This Is What Happy Looks Like(70)
Author: Jennifer E. Smith

Graham grinned. “I’ve always wanted to steal a swan boat.”

“And we’ll write,” Ellie said, without looking over at him.

“And we’ll write,” he agreed.

“Just don’t screw up my e-mail address.”

“That,” he said, still smiling, “doesn’t sound like me at all.”

They continued to walk, passing place after familiar place as if to rewind the past weeks: the spot near the gazebo where they’d stood after Graham chased her in only his swim trunks, the shuttered window of the deli where she’d spilled the candy, the place where she’d seen him on that very first day, looking distant and surprisingly sad, a sorrow so deep that it seemed to hold her there, just watching him.

That was gone now, that look in his eyes.

It had been replaced by something lighter, something more peaceful.

Their destination was never discussed, but even so, there was an understanding between them, no less certain for being unspoken, and when they reached the grove of trees that led down to the beach—not just any beach, but their beach—they veered toward it together. At the entrance, Graham hesitated. But only for a moment, and then Ellie tugged gently on his hand, leading him across the threshold where the road turned to trees, and then the trees to stones, and then, finally, the stones disappeared into the water.

Ellie felt her heart swell at the sight of the ocean, the reflection of the moon streaked across it like the wake of a boat. The wind carried the scent of it, briny and thick, and the stars were bright overhead. They kicked off their sandals and walked down to the water, standing at the edge of the surf, which was black as the sky.

“I love this,” Ellie said, wiggling her toes, and Graham smiled.

“I know,” he said. “It was on your list.”

In the dark, it was hard to find the rock where they’d sat the other day, the one that jutted out over the water, flat and wide and level, as if it were meant for this alone. They dangled their legs over the side, the bottoms of their feet catching the spray from the waves, looking out over the moon and the navy expanse of water, the wash of stars in the ink-stained sky.

“So what now?” Ellie asked, and Graham looked over at her. She held her breath, waiting for him to say what they both knew to be true: that he would leave tomorrow. That they would have to say good-bye.

“Now,” he said, taking her hand. “Now, we wait.”

“For what?”

“Tomorrow.”

She gave him a sideways glance, and he grinned.

“It’s not as scary if you see it coming.”

“That’s true,” Ellie said with a smile. They fell silent again, and after a moment, she turned to look at him. “Are we really waiting here till tomorrow?”

Graham didn’t shift his gaze from the water. He looked completely untroubled, sitting there with the breeze ruffling the hair on his forehead.

“You said you always sleep through the sunrises,” he told her. “This way, there’s no chance you’ll miss it.”

She laughed. “You’re serious?”

He nodded.

“But you have to work in the morning.”

“So do you,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to look pretty.”

“You’ll look pretty anyway,” he said, pulling her over to him. There was a chill in the air, and she was grateful to be in his arms, listening to his steady breaths.

“It’s a long time,” she said, “till the sun comes up.”

“About eight hours.”

“I guess when you put it that way, it almost doesn’t seem like long enough.”

“Think you can stay awake?”

She nodded against his chest. “You?”

“Yes,” he promised.

But already her eyelids felt heavy, the waves a kind of lullaby. She blinked a few times, thinking of the hours ahead of them on this rock that felt like an island, small enough for only the two of them, but large enough to keep the rest of the world at bay.

When she yawned, Graham gave her a little nudge so that her eyes flickered open again. “I’m awake,” she murmured, though she wasn’t, not really.

Together, they waited for the sky to flip over like the turning of a page, the bone-colored moon giving way to a brilliant sun, the promise of a new day, and Ellie was surprised to find herself thinking of the little town in France, the one with all the miracles. She could only hope that in a place filled with so many wonders, it would have still been possible to appreciate something as remarkable and ordinary as all this.

“Salutations,” he said, and she smiled.

“Good morning.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It really is.”