The Way We Feel

Chapter 18

I knew I should talk to her.

Really talk to her. About what Mum had mentioned earlier.

But she was smiling. My girl was smiling. Still. She'd been smiling all week, thanks to Mum. And now that we had this time together—a night out, just the two of us, while Mum stayed home with Lila—the last thing I wanted to do was watch that smile disappear.

Mads hung onto my hand as she hurried ahead of me, barely giving me time to close the car door behind us.

"C'mon!" she called, tugging me toward the sound of the ocean, which had already mostly disappeared under cover of darkness.

And she was smiling still as she hurried us forward. Laughing. After a lovely, relaxed dinner together, she'd exclaimed that we should go to the beach even though it was already dark out. Even though we'd be the only people there.

"All the more reason," she'd said with a grin I could never say no to.

So, here we were. Running to the sand, breathing in the salty air, pausing only to remove our shoes, giggling like teenagers staying out after curfew all the while.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here," I murmured in the silence, having noted the sign that said the beach closed at dusk. The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore was the only other noise to be heard for a couple miles.

"We won't stay too long," Mads said back, straightening with her sandals clutched in one hand. She looked sideways at me, a smirk on her lips. "Not scared, are you?"

I grinned even though her words sent a zing of fear through me. There was only one thing I was scared of tonight.

"Course not," I said, grabbing her outstretched hand, my shoes in my other one.

Together, we stepped onto the sand, felt the cool softness of it squeeze between our toes, and hurried forward. Toward the water—an endless stretch of shimmering black crawling up the shore. You could only tell it was moving by the way the moonlight rippled off it, by the sound of those waves crashing, and the hint of white foam in the darkness, spraying up and out, then lingering on the sand as the water slithered back, back, back again to gather enough momentum before rushing forward once more.

It was quiet save for that noise. Peaceful save for the thrumming beat of my heart. Chilly save for the warmth reaching up from my hand, where my girl's warm fingers were carefully tucked in mine.

We stared at it together for a little while—long enough that my conversation with Mum came back to me, as it had several times over the course of our meal.

It was Saturday, so I'd had the day off from work, and was able to spend it with them—my family. My girls. Or most of them, anyway. Mum would be leaving early this week, so I was happy to have some time to spend with her in particular.

We'd all been sitting in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine after a late lunch, when Lila started fussing. Mads had fed her a little while before, so we all knew it was coming.

"Yep," Mads had said after a quick sniff of Lila's nappy. "It's happening."

I chuckled as I watched her stand, hauling the baby up with her as she circumvented her chair and angled toward the house.

"Want me to take her?" Mum asked.

"No, I've got it," Mads said. "You two chat. We'll be right back."

Lila had quieted a bit when her mother started moving toward the house, like on some level she knew the problem would be taken care of shortly. Or, more likely, she was just pleased with the bit of movement. And I watched the two of them disappear inside with a ridiculous amount of love in my heart.