andhiswife: (smile - fond)
They take the bus down to the boardwalk. Normally, Greta avoids modern means of conveyance as much as possible, and the walk from Dimera to the beach is nothing by her standards. But she doesn't want Saoirse to get tired or bored before they even reach their destination, so the bus it is.

Part of her wonders if she's making a mistake - if it might be foolish or even cruel to bring the girl to the seaside when she's still... as she is. Can she truly enjoy it? Or would it be worse not to take her, when it might be something of a second home to her? Granted, it's much too cold to go for a paddle or anything, but at least being on the beach might provide some comfort. It might even help with the vague illness she's been saddled with in her sealskin coat's absence.

Pitiable as Saoirse's condition might be, Greta can't help a stab of apprehension at the thought of what will happen if she actually finds her coat. She's heard enough stories about selkies to know that that's when they leave you -- and, selfishly, she doesn't want the girl going anywhere. She's grown terribly fond of her already.

"Now," she starts, holding Saoirse's hand as they cross the road and head over to the boardwalk, "it's too cold to go into the water, but I bet we could find some shells if we looked. Or there are all these shops along the boardwalk. There's a lot to see." She drops down to Saoirse's level and brushes some of the girl's hair out of her eyes -- it's rather blustery out, though at least the sun is warm. "What would you like to do first?"
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The Baker's Wife

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