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“These sunsets will never get old to me,” I say after a moment of watching the sun's rays sparkle against the horizon.
“Same. This is probably what I miss the most when I'm away from here.”
“Then what are we still doing cooped up in here? Let's get to the beach and experience it up close.”
She's out by the time I walk over to open her door. We set off for the water’s edge, and the sand swallows our feet as soon as we hit it.
“I guess this is the part where we kick these off.” I gesture with my hand to her heels, and she’s already beaten me to it. My shoes come off, too. I lean over to pick both pairs up and carry them, one pair in each hand.
She looks over and smiles.
We walk along the beach in silence, admiring the sunset’s pinks, lavenders, and golds. After a long stretch of silence, Ellie stops to turn around.
“I've always loved footsteps in the sand.”
I throw a look over my shoulder at the long stretch of our matching footprints behind us. “Why is that?”
She turns forward again, and we continue walking along.
“Reminds me of a 19th century poem I read a long time ago, but it’s stuck with me. I'll show you when we get home, but I can give you the gist.”
My head jerks toward her. The way she says ‘home’ causes my heart to skip a beat, since she views my home as hers now.
“Why do you love the poem?”
“It talks about leaving your mark on the world. It makes you think about your own place in it and how small we all are. Am I doing it right? Am I even doing what I'm supposed to do?”
“For you, it’s hard to imagine you not doing anything right. I can’t imagine someone being more accomplished.”
“Thank you, but I could always do more. Any time I feel overwhelmed, I think of the poem. And I remember that every trial, every up and down is a part of me leaving my mark on the world.”
She glances at me, golden eyes sparkling.
I smile with a nod of understanding. “I think of my legacy, too, sometimes. Although I’m not as philosophical as you.”
She laughs a little, and I continue. “If I turn old and gray, and all I did was go on medical missions to benefit mankind, that'll be a life well lived. I think about that when I feel pressure from my father to glorify our nation in some way or another. It’s not as important as actual lives.”
She nods, thinking. “And children, too. That’s a huge part of anyone’s legacy.”
Her tone is soft, and she ducks her head when I turn mine over to look at her.
We reach a secluded spot overlooking the ocean, surrounded by a rocky ledge. I grip her elbow, and her eyes widen at me.
“Why don't we rest over here? Let me set it up first.” I throw our shoes to the ground and slide the backpack off my shoulders.
“I was wondering why you were carrying that huge thing.”
“If you asked, I could have told you.” I bend over to unbuckle and unzip as I speak. “I know you hate surprises.”
“I’m starting to like them a little better.”
“Good. The bag is huge for a good reason.”
I whip out a blanket from the pack and spread it on the sand near the rock wall. I motion to her. “Sit, sit.”
She joins me on the blanket, and I refuse to let her help as I pull out cartons of various sizes and arrange them. My hands reach deep into the bag and feel for the candles in their glass holders. I bury them in the sand to keep them stable and then fish out some plates, glasses, and a few beverage bottles.
“Cedrick, what's all this?”
