Summer Child

It all started with a social media post:

'Hey Pebble Point, I’m down for the day! HMU.'

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It wasn’t often Aiden came home anymore.

In the handful of years following her graduation from college, many of her friends had scattered from their tiny seaside town and onto brand-new paths. She’d certainly done the same after her Nan had passed away, only too eager to escape that heartbreak and dive into adulthood and adventure in the heart of her favorite City. Nan had raised her since toddlerhood after she lost her parents and, though her roots were and always would be there in Pebble Point, all sense of ‘home’ seemed muted, fading, the longer she spent away. Gone into the ground with those she loved best, and into the wind with everyone and everything she missed most. It was that much easier to justify being away when her life and career were taking off, leading to all the new experiences she’d craved throughout her teenage years.

Still, despite getting away from her tiny hometown, not all ties had frayed and snapped - those that remained were well and permanently tethered. She made it back for the odd holiday dinner with her best friend's family, and she stayed in close touch with more than a few of her and Nan’s old friends, too. And then there was the cottage; just a stone’s throw from the beach, the beautiful little home that had been in her family for generations belonged to her now.

Though she had trusted friends keeping an eye on things and a management company handling the care of the property, nothing beat coming down to check in herself and make sure everything was still in place and in good shape. Plus it was a nice summer break from the City and, at first, it had been a great way to recharge and reconnect with friends who hadn’t yet left home. But work and life had kept her hands fuller than ever in recent years and, without realizing it, she was starting to go longer than she’d planned between those soothing visits. This time, she hadn’t come back to her childhood home in over a year.

A pang of guilt socked her right in the gut and she tried to push it down as quickly as it made itself known, in favor of a deep breath of ocean-soaked air. Even if Nan would have insisted she live her life as she wished, and even if the pandemic hadn't been an even more convenient excuse to stay put, a strange and out of place homesickness had been sticking in the back of her mind, prickling at her consciousness and creeping over her even while in the thick of the most intense work project she’d directed yet. The guilt of staying away, along with a heavy sense of responsibility, had begun weighing on her until the feeling became unbearable. So when the project had concluded and with all the social distancing and masking finally calming down, she’d made the decision to head home at last in an attempt to quell the nagging feeling that she was long overdue for even a short visit.

Now that she was here, she wondered why she’d stayed away as long as she had in the first place. The sun was shining brightly, kissing the whitewashed walls of the cottage with warm light as she finished her post and sat back, not really expecting anything to come of the obligatory social media reach-out. It had been ages, and even though she tried to keep in touch with everyone, it was inevitable that friends and events slipped through the cracks as people moved away, got married, had kids, got divorced, and rinsed and repeated. But it didn’t matter if no one was around; it was going to be a gorgeous day and she planned to spend most of it in the sand.

She’d gotten on the road hours before, while it was still pitch black, in order to make the most of the trip, the single day out of her banked vacation time she’d allotted herself. The four hours in the snappy, vintage-blue Thunderbird that saw more garage than road time had gone by quickly, accompanied by summery tunes, strong coffee, and some good old on-the-go, NYC-style breakfast. The only stop Aiden had made was to put the top down as the sun finally broke over the horizon and warmed the air, when she was less than an hour from her destination. It had been a glorious sight and even though the breeze hadn’t yet turned salty-fresh and beachy-clean, it still felt amazing to be out of the City for a bit.

With her sunglasses slipped up to rest on top of her head, the light wind tickling the ends of long, sandy brown locks, she opened the car door and stepped out, grabbed her purse and beach bag, and put the top up and locked up before heading up the sun-bleached steps to the front door. It was as cute and quaint as she remembered, and a pang of nostalgia washed over her as she opened the front door and took in her first big breath of home in far too long. Warm notes of almond polish greeted her nose, faint but as familiar as the scent of the ocean. She’d kept the same cleaner in the house Nan had, and the housekeeper made sure to use it during her once a month visits. The bells on the doorknob jingled in time with the beach-glass wind chimes, and she at last stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed with a peaceful joy.

Perhaps the only thing that could dull the moment was knowing no one was home to welcome her with open arms, no immediate sight to greet her of Adelaide pottering around the big open kitchen, the butcher block counters littered with pots and pans in anticipation of one of her famous clambakes or lobster boils. Aiden plopped her bags down inside the door with a sigh and dropped her keys in the dish on the sideboard table, as she ever had, before heading over to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way through the open-plan first story, her gaze caught all the little details she’d always loved, but hadn’t really learned to appreciate until she was away. The seaside decor her Nan had so carefully picked out over the years, like the shelf full of interesting-looking shells, some of which they’d collected together, or had been gifted. The whimsical touches, like the old, funky driftwood sculptures, or the insanely cool octopus teacup holder on the freshly waxed counter. The way the wall hangings were positioned just so to capture different parts of the daylight, and later, the moonlight, through the walls of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the ocean.

Her Grandad had passed just before Aiden was born, and after she’d grieved for a bit, Nan had sold everything she owned further inland to focus on making the little cottage into a year-round home. She’d spent the better part of twenty five years making it truly hers and that alone made it something Aiden refused to part with. Well-meaning friends sometimes tried to convince her to sell it and use the money to buy a place of her own, or to bankroll the event planning business she vaguely considered opening one day, but even that lofty goal wasn’t reason enough to part with it, no matter how hot the market was. She loved her job and made enough to live comfortably and to maintain the cottage, so there was no real reason to let it go. Losing the hundred-something-year-old place would feel like losing a limb, she was sure of it, no matter how long she was away.

She was just polishing off her glass and about to set it in the sink when the back door’s bells tinkled, startling her into dropping it instead. No one was supposed to be there besides her that day. Without thinking, she made a grab for it just as it hit the enameled sink and shattered, and a hiss of pain sucked through her teeth as she felt a jagged piece slice deep.