The cottage was one of dozens that dotted the sand between the ocean and the street. But it was the only one inhabited in the middle of December.
“This is like a honeymoon,” she said, moving closer to the fire Cole had built in the stone fireplace. The tiny living room glowed warmly from the blaze.
“A premarital honeymoon.” He sat on the dumpy sofa, sipping his cocoa and watching her.
“I’ve almost adjusted to the quiet,” she said. It was odd to be without the others. Only Rennie had trouble understanding that they needed some time away alone now. That it couldn’t wait until after the wedding.
“I like having you all to myself.” He put his feet on the hassock. “This has been a wonderful uncomplicated day.” She leaned forward to stir the fire and made a face at the pain in her legs.
“Stiff?”
“I hurt even more than I did last time.”
“You ran harder.”
“Wait till you see me in Boston.”
“I hope to.” He stood up and walked into the little kitchen for more cocoa. “Oh wow,” she heard him say. “The sky is full of stars. You want to bundle up and go out to the beach?”
She smiled to herself and stood up. He was already holding her jacket and mittens out to her. He pulled her ski cap down over her ears and picked up a couple of blankets from the table.
The beach was right outside their front door. Janni had made an excellent choice. She’d handed Kit the keys to the cottage when she met her plane from Miami. “This is your early Christmas present,” she’d said. “Three days for you and Cole, away from the house. I figure you both need it after this weekend.”
The air was cool but not cold, and it smelled of the smoke from their fire. They spread one of the blankets on the hard sand and pulled the second over them as they stretched out under the glittering sky.
“I see Orion,” she said, pointing to the three stars of Orion’s sash.
“Very good!” He sounded impressed. “Now find the scorpion.”
She smiled in the darkness. “You can’t fool me. They’re never in the sky at the same time.” How long ago had they had that conversation? It was so fresh in her mind. “Orion’s the victor this time around.”
They were quiet for a few minutes and the familiar churning of the ocean was all she could hear. Summer or winter, the sea sounded the same.
Cole broke the silence with a sigh. “Sometimes I wish she’d died,” he said.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
“So I’d be free of her.” He rolled onto his side to look at her. “I’m responsible for her now, you understand that, don’t you? I mean . . . her family’s worthless.”
“I understand that you’ll do whatever you have to do to be at peace with yourself,” she said.
“I want to be certain she gets the right kind of care. And I’ll want to visit her sometimes, if they think that will help.”
She felt him searching her face for some objection that wasn’t there. “It’s all right,” she said. “I don’t need to hold on to you that tightly.”
He rolled onto his back again and put his arm under her head. She looked up at the stars and thought of the house on the bay, waiting to be filled with love and tradition. In a few weeks they would set their furniture inside it, hang curtains at the windows, and make it theirs. They would watch these same stars from their own solid wooden beach chairs.
Their names would be carved beneath the seats.