“You’ve really used this,” I say, pausing on a note that reads,Less of me, more of Himand another that readsOof.
His grin turns gentle, rocking his side into mine softly. “I finally figured out I couldn’t do things on my own. Took me a while, though.”
“You could have bought a newer Bible.”
“Well, you know me and my memories,” he muses. “I’m pretty fond of this one.”
“So, this is church?” I ask.
“A form of it. God’s not contained by a building. Besides, I think He’d be okay with this spot right here.” His gaze goes back to the ocean.
We sit in silence and I’m thankful for it. The walk down to the beach was more difficult than I thought it would be. My head is starting to feel tight and too small again. I close my eyes and take long, slow breaths.
After a while I stand, walking closer to the ocean, letting the water wash over my feet before the tide pulls it back. I let my head tilt to the sky, closing my eyes, my face meeting the sun’s rays.
I can feel Milo watching me.
It’s been a long time since I’ve missed church back at home. In fact, I’ve never missed a Sunday. But I have missed the message many times, Pastor Jeff’s voice turning into a hum as my eyes glaze over or my mind begins to make lists of all the things I need to get done that day.
Milo’s Bible shows something much different than my current faith, which feels a little shaky or simply practiced.
I’ve been living a life of going through the motions. Church is on my checklist.
The note in the margins of his Bible that saysOofhits me right now.
I look back down at my feet being cleansed repeatedly, as if even the ocean is trying to give me grace.
I turn and walk back to Milo, who’s still sitting where I left him.
He looks up at me and asks, “How long do you want this trip to last, Sadie?”
I draw in a breath.
Truthfully, I haven’t really thought too much about it. I just can’t be in Dusty Hollow right now. Not with my dad waiting for an answer I’m not ready to give.
But Milo also has his life. Football training will be starting up soon. He probably has preparations for his classroom. Then there’s that text from Caleb . . .
“I mean, we can go back,” I reply reluctantly.
Milo stands and closes the space between us in one step before he says gently, “That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t want to take up all your time.” My eyes begin to dart around. “I know you have your own life?—”
“Sadie.” His warm hands wrap around my face, forcing me to look at him. He grins at me. “Can I take you somewhere? It’s quite a drive from here. Over ten hours.”
I start to argue, but I bite my tongue—my heart already sighing with relief. I’m not ready for this trip with no plans to end.
I match his smile. “As long as there’s lemon ice cream on the way. I think you owe me.”
“Sadie Summers, I take my bets very seriously.” He tilts his head, grin lingering. “Haven’t I always paid up?”
36
SADIE
We packup our things and drive north, windows down as the coastline plays peekaboo. I lean back in the seat, thankful the quiet with Milo feels so easy that I can just melt into it. After a few hours, we stop for fuel and food. When we get back in the cab, I make use of the best part about a bench seat and slide over next to Milo.
He glances at me, his blue eyes softening as he reaches for his seatbelt, a hint of a smile already forming before I ask, “Is this okay?”
