Chapter 2

The next morning, I pulled on my black Costco leggings out of spite and paired them with Uggs, a crisp white V-neck tee and *the* Louis Vuitton Neverfull, which Justin was endlessly impressed by. I couldn't have cared less but it seemed to fit well with my basic bitch uniform and while embarking on a trip to scatter my mom's ashes, a basic bitch uniform seemed like good armor to hide behind. I tugged my blonde hair into a messy top knot and glanced at myself in the mirror. My blue eyes no longer twinkled, my skin looked dull and tired. I sighed and covered myself with an oversized pair of Ray-Bans and set off. 

I pulled my Range Rover into my dad's driveway in Seneca Falls. My parents had purchased the home, which backed into the national park, before Seneca Falls was *Seneca Falls* and though it was a simple colonial, the 8 acres of woods surrounding it were peaceful and home to many childhood forts. Justin had been yammering at my dad to sell; real estate was another investment arena he felt he had authority on for no good reason, but dad was hesitant. Scattering mom's ashes 16 years since her passing was the biggest step he'd taken since she died. 

I jumped out while Justin stayed in the car and let myself in through the garage. Mom and Dad had plans to remodel before she got sick but they had fallen by the wayside after her diagnosis and rapid decline. I was glad they had; the 60's era kitchen may have been dated but was clean and very comforting. A contractor had offered him an obscene amount of money for the large, white porcelain farmhouse style sink but dad declined. He said he had too many good memories of giving me baths in it. I'd know the blue and white linenolum pattern anywhere. 

Dad rounded the corner clad in a Hawaiian shirt. "Mom got him this on our honeymoon," he said proudly. I smiled and hugged him. For a man of his wealth, he did not give a shit about brands or appearances. He was so excited when Crocs came out that he bought a pair in every color. "They are comfortable, cleanable and can't get smelly," he reasoned. I definitely didn't marry my dad. I saw the pair dad had gifted to Justin in our last Goodwill bag. 

"I was going through a few of mom's things and found the slides she took from the Broadfoot cottage the last time we were there," he said. We were the last family to ever stay at the 126 year old oceanfront house. It was being demolished to make way for yet another characterless monstrosity and the owners told us we could take anything we'd like from the home, that they had already been through it. I had remembered taking a book about soulmates, past lives and twin flames. I was at one time a hopeless romantic. 

Dad handed me the ancient wooden box. "Check these out," he said. I used to be a hobby photographer and had quite enjoyed it but hadn't picked up a camera since before I married Justin. My collection of antique cameras remained in my bedroom here, though. "I'd guess they were 1920's, judging by the glass and the metal casings. I found a viewfinder in the basement, if you want to take a look." I took the slides from his hands. They were a neat specimen of times past, when every shot was an imperfect candid and you couldn't just snap thousands of photos to get the perfect shot. I personally felt the more spontaneous nature of the film was purer at capturing the moment.

I let my fingers linger over the slides before selecting one. I popped it in the viewfinder and a black and white image of a family running in the surf appeared before my eyes. I squinted a little bit -

"She kind of looks like you," Dad said. The family in the picture looked stunningly familiar. Two light haired, freckled children were clearly happy and laughing, kicking water at the shoreline. Their parents had their backs to the camera but were lightly holding hands as they gazed upon their children. The longer I looked, the more connected I felt to this mystery family that existed over a century ago. They made me feel homesick, despite standing in my childhood home.

"HONK!"

"Is your husband seriously fucking honking for us to hurry up?" Dad never liked Justin that much. I rolled my eyes and set the slides and viewfinder on the dining room table. 

"I'm sorry. Are you all set?" I asked.

"You can still come home, you know," Dad said. I grimaced a smile that probably made me look constipated.

The ride down was uneventful. Justin insisted on driving my car but I was content to sit in the back and browse skoolies on P*******t and daydream about a different life. Justin and I’s union lacked passion and even friendship. I wanted to make it work because I felt like it was something I should do but I knew I had to stop shoulding myself. My entire existence was craving the freedom to find a connection I needed on a primal level.

We pulled into the hotel just before sunset. I went to fetch our bags for check-in but dad stopped me.

"I want to get this over with," he said, gesturing to mom's urn, which we had seatbelted next to me in the back. I nodded.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," I assured him. Justin groaned. I knew he had wanted to catch a basketball game when we got in. "Why don't you stay here," I said curtly to him, “We’ll make this a family thing.” He was too dense to notice that one. "The reservation is under my name," and I tossed my card to him. 

Dad seemed to visibly relax as we walked towards Masonborough Island. "I don't understand what you see in him," he said.

"We used to have fun," I had given this some thought. "But I’ve never felt a sense of belonging when I’m with him." I didn't want to tell my dad about my tragically lackluster bedroom life. "Mom liked him, though."

"She liked the idea of him,” he said. “Mom had terrible taste in men, anyway." We both laughed as we made our way to the water. "You know she once saw a psychic down here who told her that we were soulmates from a past life?" I hadn't. Psychics didn't really seem like mom's style. "She happened into a tiny storefront while shopping in Wilmington and a woman grabbed her hand and explained to her that she was exactly where she needed to be, at that point in time. We were both adrift, reconnecting every so often. I’m glad our paths crossed when they did. Sometimes, one small, seemingly insignificant moment can change your entire destiny.”

"Did she hire a sorcerer to cast a spell on you?" I giggled at the thought because it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for my mom. 

"Maybe!" Dad looked down at the urn and smiled sadly. "She always gave me a sense of belonging.”