This is why I love fall. Rainy bonfires on the beach, boys in sweaters, my rainboots, hauled out of the very back of the front-hall closet and passing around a bottle of whiskey in the half light like back in the old times, except now it's a forty instead of a pint. Now someone walked in and picked it up off the shelf and paid for it instead of begging Caleb's good graces. Now I still only come up to their armpits or shoulders. Now we're still thick as thieves.
My flannel shirt and jeans isn't warm enough and Lochlan sends me back for a coat just as we reach the gate. I frown and stomp back across the driveway and then break into a run, up the stairs, catching my toes and landing on my hands and knees on the top step, then picking myself up and running through the kitchen and down the hall into the foyer and grabbing the first coat I see, which is John's green carhartt jacket which is far too big and heavy but that's okay too. I shrug into it, zip up the front and run back, grabbing the rail on the way down the steps this time.
Okay.
I run across the driveway and Lochlan laughs. Ready? Think you could have found a bigger coat?
Nope.
Off we go. Down the slippery steps. I get the rail and his hand. He gets my hand and his uncanny balance. We don't need to rush. They've always kept their promise over the years. They never start without me.
