Page 15 of The Moment Promised

Before I can hide in his embrace, warm lips slam into mine.

4

NINE YEARS AGO

Are you thirsty? We have juice, water, soda, if your parents allow you to drink it, of course.” Jill gives me a maternal smile.

“No, thank you,” I say sweetly.

“I’ll have some orange juice!” Finn says.

“You have two working legs and two working arms. Get up and get it for yourself,” she tells her son. Half-jokingly.

“How come Adeline gets special treatment?” He rolls his eyes.

“Sheisspecial.”

“Yeah, we like her better than you sometimes,” Burt says, walking into the kitchen, a rolled-up newspaper in hand. “Got anything for me today, Adeline?” He sits on a barstool, pulling a pencil from behind his ear to complete his daily crossword puzzle.

I smile. “Yes, I do.” I empty my backpack onto the center island. Seashells scatter onto the granite.

“You’ve really outdone yourself!” He nods with approval.

“Do you really need any more seashells, Burt? I think we have more in this house than the entire Gulf of Mexico,” Jill jokes.

Burt walks over to his wife, a lifetime of love still evident in his eyes. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“A man can never own too many shells, dear,” he says, picking one up to observe. “Do you know what this one’s called, Adeline?”

“Hmm. Looks like angel wings.” I smile at the way the two shells are connected together.

“It does, doesn’t it? It is called a Sunray Venus, did you know?—”

“All right, Burt, stop holding up the poor girl,” Jill interrupts the beginning of her husband’s tangent, handing me a juice box since I never got the chance to answer which drink I wanted.

I beam. It’s my favorite flavor, and we never have anything but water at our house. “Thank you.”

“We’re going to the beach.” Finn walks toward the door that leads to his garage, directing me to follow.

“By yourselves?” his mother asks.

“We are ten years old, it’s not a big deal.” He gazes down, like she’s embarrassing him.

“All right, all right. Go. Have fun guys, bring your phone, Finn!” she shouts, as Finn drags me toward the garage.

The way Jill worries about her son is nice. My parents don’t even know it’s spring break. They think I’m going to school every day, but really, I come to the Walker’s house.

Surfboards line the walls of the garage, along with a few skateboards. Burt surfs every Sunday morning, and sometimes Finn and I go with him.

The Walkers treat me as their own, and sometimes I wish his parents were mine. I know it’s selfish, and I hate myself for even thinking it.

“You can ride the one with the basket.” Finn points to the smaller of the two bikes. “Think fast!” He tosses me a helmet with a second’s notice.

I don’t catch it in time, and it clatters against the ground.

“Too slow,” Finn teases.

I roll my eyes at him like I always do.

---