He doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no. And while he should probably go inside and sit down as close to one of the floor vents as possible, he doesn't move from the place he's standing. The best she can do is work at the other end, in hopes of meeting him in the middle.

Or close to the front, probably.

Beth starts moving the snow from the walk to the yard. Every armful's heavier than it feels like it ought to be - a surprise of northern winters - but the effort feels good. Being outside again still feels novel, after too much time trapped in the dark halls of a hospital. If it weren't so cold, she'd probably be out in the fresh air all day, every day.

She looks up at the offer, mid-shovel. "If you wanna. What are you having?"