“It really was,” she tells me. “I had this house right on the beach, and I would get up every morning.” She moves her hands the whole time. “I mean, I didn’t really sleep, but I would grab a cup of coffee and sit on the beach and watch the sky turn from dark to a light pink to a blue. The whole time I did that, I wanted you next to me. I didn’t even care if the neighbors would come out and wave to me before they left for work. Then I spent time walking around the town, and not one person said anything to me. Not one person cared or looked my way, not a sneer, not a leer, and not even any words under their breath. I smiled at a couple of them, and they nodded politely, but that was it.”

I get up now, tossing the sheet to the side. “Will you come with me?” I ask, putting on my own shirt. “I mean, after you put pants on. Will you come with me?”

“Where?” she asks, and I look at her.

“It’s a surprise,” I say, and she just looks at me. I walk to her, taking her cheek in the palm of my hand. She tilts her head to the side, pushing into it. “But it’s a good one.”

“Okay,” she whispers. After she puts on shorts, we walk to the truck. She climbs in, and I turn to her before I start the truck.

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask, and she looks over at me. “Can you close your eyes? I want you to see it when it’s time.”

“I hate surprises,” she tells me, leaning back and closing her eyes. “Like I hate it more than coriander.” I laugh because she really hates surprises. One time, I wanted to throw her a surprise party, and she didn’t even show up. I had to go and get her at home.

“I know but trust me,” I say, “you’ll love this one.” I make my way over to the place where I’ve spent the past seven days. The number of splinters that I had removed this week has to surpass one hundred. I pull up and finally see it in the sunlight. I get out and walk over to her side of the truck, opening the door and grabbing her hand. “Keep your eyes closed,” I say, and she walks slowly with me. “Almost there,” I say, and when we are finally in the right spot. “Okay,” I tell her, watching her face. “You can open your eyes.”

Her eyes flicker open, and I see them take in the building that everyone has spent the whole week working on. “What in the world?” She looks at what she last saw as a pile of rubble. “How did you …?” She looks at her bar in shock.