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Sarah is shaking her knees, bobbing up and down, trying to get warm. She's shivering right in her core. She pulls her jacket closer around her, puts her hands under her arms to warm them up. She should have brought gloves. Helena had told her to bring gloves.
She kicks a pebble in front of her. It lands with a soft thud in the sand, leaving a little dent. She tracks her eyes up from her boots, taking in the scenery in the dark. Pebbles to sand to water to trees to sky.
The trees loom out of the ground, big and tall and threatening. The water hushes in between her and them. Shushing in and out, in and out. Shhh. Shhh. It's going to be okay.
She can hear Helena in the truck on the grass behind her. She's talking to herself. The sing-song words she's saying sound like a speech she's heard and told a thousand times. Sarah kicks another pebble. It plops at the edge of the water. She keeps her eyes glued to it in the cold dark. The water brushes it over and over.
A crash comes from the truck, Sarah looks over. Helena is tumbling her way out of the truck and over to the waterfront.
When Sarah looks back she can't see her pebble anymore. It's lost in the crowd of other rocks. It's not special enough to pick out.
Helena has made her way over and is standing next to Sarah. She's holding what looks like half a sandwich. It must be the one packed for Sarah because Helena had finished both of hers on the ride here.
"Are you not cold?" Sarah asks.
Helena holds out her sandwich as if that's an answer. Sarah rolls her eyes as she faces the water again, but her expression stays soft.
Through a mouthful of sandwich Helena asks, "Do you have to be a good mother to make a sandwich?"
Sarah blinks at the question. It came out of nowhere. She tries to answer in a way that doesn't let up that she has no idea.
"I guess it helps."
Helena nods. She swallows her mouthful, takes another bite. "Missus S makes good sandwiches." She says.
Sarah relocates her feet on the pebbles, they crunch under her. "Yeah." she says. Then, "I make shit sandwiches."
She doesn't say it but Helena knows what she means. Helena doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know how to make Sarah feel better.
Quiet fills the dark. The only sound is Helena chewing. The words curl themselves around Sarah's knees, spiky and cold. She's shivering again, rocking her knees to try and dislodge the words. Helena, now finished eating, takes a step over to Sarah. Puts her head on Sarah's shoulder. Sarah's shoulder is warm under Helena's head. She can feel Helena's breathing on her cheek, warming it up. Sarah is still bobbing up and down, Helena moves her head with Sarah.
A hopeful ball of heat is filling up Sarah's chest behind her ribs, nudging it's way over to Helena.
"Sarah" Helena says, "be still." And Sarah's still, just like that. She stops shivering. The water sloshes in front of them.
Shhh. Shhh. It's okay.