I step out of the car and pop my trunk, noting the gorgeous bay window overlooking the small, wooded area to the left side of the house. To the right side of the house, there’s a second bay window overlooking the harbor. I remember sitting at the one on the right-hand side many times, just daydreaming of sailing out to sea. That is something I’ve promised myself to do before the summer is over, even if it only amounts to a day trip to one of the nearby lighthouses for a picnic and back. This place will be wonderful. Just what I need.
“Thank you, Nana,” I whisper aloud, hoping that she can hear me.
I find the key exactly where Mom and the estate executor said it would be, and without any trouble, I get my belongings into the house. There will be more to unpack, but the moving truck won’t be here until tomorrow. Mom came by herself a few weeks ago after Nana’s cremation to retrieve her ashes and deal with some paperwork.
Nana was never keen on having a huge funeral. She wanted zero fuss. She was even great about having all of her affairs in order. That was beyond wonderful, because some of the horror stories I’ve heard from friends that have lost grandparents, or sadly their own parents, early that had not had things in order, had me nervous. Even though the idea of burning her body absolutely drove Mom crazy, she followed her wishes. I just try to imagine it like the old days when Vikings had honored their fallen with a beautiful pyre to help send off theirsouls to Valhalla. It helps a little. Nana sure would’ve loved that idea. She likely would have said it was a proper “send off” to God.
Since there’s not a whole lot for me to get started with unpacking yet, I have time to look around at what might need immediate attention before I get settled in. The living room looks so cozy with Nana’s crocheted blankets and homemade quilts resting on-top of the sofa and rocking chair. The view from the bay window bench is even more spectacular than I remember as a child. I look forward to resting on the cushioned bench reading a… No, scratch that,writingthat book I’ve dreamt of writing so much… during a snowy winter day. The fireplace on the wall to the right of the window is still in great condition, only needing a good mantel dusting. A cleaning will be a must before the cold weather comes. Nana must have been working on something new because there is a pattern book open with the yarn and needle set out next to it on the end table. I check the dining room, bathroom, guest bedroom, laundry room, and library, noting that everything downstairs is perfect with the exception of a leaky faucet in the kitchen. Surely I can figure that out.
As I climb up the steps, I smirk, remembering all the times I got scolded for trying to slide down the banister I now run my hand across. At the top of the stairs, there is a vase on a small table that needs some fresh flowers. There are two guest bedrooms, a small bathroom to the right of the house, and a master bath connected to the master bedroom on the left. Thankfully, there’s no leaks in either bathroom. The master bedroom holds a gracious amount of space and has a breathtaking view of the ocean through a set of French doors that open up to a small balcony. I’m going to need a small chair and side table out there for coffee. Waking up to this view, plus the heavenly sound of the waves crashing along the little strip of shoreline, will be wonderful. There is absolutely no way thatanyone could look out across that water and think that all of this beauty was created by some big bang. It looks so flawless, it could only have been orchestrated by God, Himself.
The vanity across the room still has Nana’s perfumes and lotions set out. I walk over and skim the bottles with my fingertips. I pick up the bottle of perfume and spritz it into the air. It smells like lilacs. It’s so Mabel that it brings tears to my eyes. Opening the French doors, I step out onto the balcony, taking in the beauty of the sea. A breeze lifts the hair off of my shoulders, and I inhale the salty air, suddenly feeling more at ease.Is that you, Nana? I wonder as a waft of the perfume and sea overwhelm me. Man, I missed this. I love the smell of the sea, and deep down, I know Nana is with me.
I step back inside, looking over at the beautiful, dark wood sleigh bed, and just know this is the room I'll live in. It doesn’t weird me out that this is where they found her. It was Nana. The executor said that her bed had been covered in a waterproof mattress cover, so the mattress had been spared. I’ll get a new one anyway since this one has had many years of use, but it will do for now. So I gather the bed sheets that Mom slept on when she was here, taking them down to the small laundry room for a good wash.
After getting the bed remade and unpacking the little bit of clothes I brought with me, it’s almost mid- afternoon. Time for a break… Maybe I’ll even take a quick dip in the water. I decide on my red triangle bikini. Nana always loved the color red on me. I assess myself in the full-length antique mirror. Gorgeous, long, natural, light golden brown hair gleams back at me, one of my favorite attributes next to my bright green eyes. My peaches and cream complexion compliments a heart-shaped face and a set of pearly whites behind full lips. I’d thankfully been blessed with a good metabolism, but I still work hard to keep my body lean and toned. I refuse to deny myself some goodfood though. I took up jogging after high school since my source of sports was gone. I didn’t care a lot for it in the beginning, but now jogging is one of my favorite parts of my mornings. As I view myself, I try to appreciate what I’ve been given, but still only see a plain Jane. I sigh and throw my tousled hair up into a messy bun, grab my sunscreen and a towel, and walk out to the patio. I follow a landscaped path that leads down to the private beach at the rear of the house.
The small beach is perfect for relaxing. I will lay out on my towel at least for today, at least until I can find a cute lounger with a small, portable table. Another thing I would like to have for the house would be a hammock for the patio. I take in the scenery and quickly realize it isn't as private as I remembered. I forgot that I have neighbors to my right, less than a thousand feet away. I wonder who lives there now. It is a smaller house than this one, but it still has amazing New England architecture and a small widow’s walk too. Many of the older, shore-side homes do. They were known better in the early 1900’s for the wives of seamen who would go up to watch for their husband’s boat to return to port. It wasn’t unusual for fishermen to be lost to the sea back then, rendering many a widow. Like how my Grandpa left Nana Mabel. Decades later, and the sea still takes them from us. The lighthouses at least lessened the rate of shipwrecks when fishermen couldn’t clearly see the shoreline upon return.
I make a mental list of groceries and to-do’s, with looking for a job being toward the top of the list. I’ve already been scanning for any openings at the middle or high school for an English teaching position, but I don’t really love that idea yet. I really just want to write, which is why I pursued my B.A. in Literature. Now I’m wondering if that was a mistake, seeing as I don’t really want to teach. I’ll have to find something small in the mean-time.
My student loans were almost taken care of, since I mostly rode through on scholarships, so money wasn’t that big of an issue. I still have a decent amount saved up, plus a gracious portion left from Nana. Bless her soul. The house is paid off, so I have time to settle in. Thinking of all this makes me feel pretty blessed. With the current economy, there’s so many people much worse off. The only other immediate thing I need to do today is go into town to get some groceries for the week.
Down the beach near the water, I hear a dog barking impatiently. Raising a hand to block the sun, I peer hard and see a man bringing his boat up to the dock.Interesting…Observing, I see the stranger throw something into the water, and the dog jumps exuberantly off the side of the boat to swim and retrieve it. I wish I were closer to see them better, but then, he’d see me watching. It’s at that moment that I know I want a companion, so a pet gets pushed to the very top of my list. A cat wouldn’t make much fuss compared to a dog, and I’d always loved having one curled up next to me purring when I was little.
???
Colin
I love days like this. Getting the chance to go out on my boat and having Amy curled up beside me while watching the waves roll by always makes it even better. Amy has always had me wrapped around her little paws, ever since the day Jenna found her lying in a cold box with her litter mates on the side of theroad. She had come sweeping into the veterinary clinic, where I was training to take over for the owner, with a mission that day. We had been able to save three of the little labs while two others struggled for several days before passing. The three pups left had been two black male labs and Amy, the runt, this little brown bundle of fur. She sure was a little fighter and didn’t take any flack from her brothers. The two males were adopted shortly after, and Jenna hadn’t had to do much persuading to bring that puppy home.
Jenna…
A pang of longing slashes through my heart every time she enters my mind… Damn, I miss her still, even after five long years. Some days it feels fresh, like I just lost her yesterday, and other days it feels like the years it actually has been. I’ll never forget the night the sheriff showed up on our doorstep to inform me that she had been in a fatal accident on her way home on our third wedding anniversary. While I had been cooking a nice dinner and lighting candles to set the mood for a surprise, she had been pinned in her car, bleeding to death, because of a stupid, drunk teenager who decided to get behind the wheel.
He had just been released earlier this spring on parole for good behavior after serving five good, long years. The kid had only been nineteen at the time of the accident. I could only hope the boy would never pick up another drink. He should live with that awful mistake forever in the back of his mind.
Amy’s impatient barking brings me back to reality. We’re almost to the private dock, so I pick up and launch her ball out into the water just to watch her enthusiastically leap out of the boat and swim to get it. I jump out to secure the boat’s ropes. Amy swims to the shoreline only to come bounding back at full speed to show me her prize.
“Good girl, Amy!” I praise, rubbing her soggy head. She shows her joy by shaking all of that salty water on me beforerunning toward the back deck leading up to our humble abode. If you could call it that. It’s neither too large nor too small. It’s an old original that Jenna and I worked hard to fix up. She had been so excited to paint and had sent me into town on errands with instructions to bring back sample swatches in every color under the sun. I had grumbled, but I did it anyway, just to see the smile on her face when I returned. She had a killer smile, that one, and it had been the first of many attributes to reel me in. I sigh, shaking the thoughts from my head. I have to stop thinking like this. At this rate, I will never find happiness again, if it even exists, and I sure as hell can’t bring her back, so there’s that.
Five long years… I think, strolling into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge. Five years since I’ve touched a woman or felt the comfort of soft skin next to mine in the morning. Nobody to drink coffee with and make small talk. Thankfully, my two best friends, Trystan and Mark, are still around to kick back and relax with. They have tried time and time again, to no avail, to set me up on a date over the past couple of years. Only recently though have I started to contemplate the idea of dinner with a new woman. It’s not that I don’t want to get back out there. I really do. I just don’t know if I could ever love anyone again the way that I loved Jenna.
Face it,I throw back the last of my sweet-tasting brew,you’re scared shitless.
Pretty much.
Chapter 2
Sydney
“You can put the last of the boxes by the staircase. Thank you!” I call out to the movers, hurrying to the kitchen to stop the annoying buzzer that is set for the cookies in the oven.
There is nothing better than hot peanut butter cookies with a cold glass of milk. I will need all the sugar I can get when I begin to unpack the daunting amount of boxes in the foyer and living room. I have no idea where to put everything, seeing as Nana’s things haven’t been packed up yet. It shouldn’t be too hard, as long as I do a few boxes a night. At that pace, I could be done by the end of the week with my things. Nana’s stuff? That might be a different story.
By early afternoon, I’ve managed to get all of my clothes hung up or put away. I pack up Nana’s clothes and some other belongings I want to keep and shove them up in the attic to go through later. I have another box for the things I want to donate ready as well. Not wanting to put all of the boxes in the attic due to its small space, I decide I should take some to the roomabove the garage. It will be mostly empty and a perfect space for separating everything for when Mom comes back to help me sort through what else needs to be kept or taken to the Goodwill store in town. That won’t be for several months though, and this way, I won’t have to deal with all the clutter. I have more than enough of my own clutter to sift through.
On my way out of the garage door, I hear something rustling around by the empty garbage cans. I stop and grab a broom hanging by the door, just in case it happens to be an opossum or who knows what kind of creature with rabies. Quietly, I tiptoe toward the side of the can with the broom raised high so as not to scare it. When I get closer, I notice the sounds of not just one animal but many little mews from what could only be kittens. Slowly, I pull the trash can away, trying not to cause them to scatter in fright. Four little ones crawl around all over each other, obviously searching for their mother who is nowhere to be seen. There are two orange ones, one all white, and a runt that is white with a few orange patches.
