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“We should bring back the tea party,” Eloise suggested. “Do the ladies still live in town?” The ladies being the group of women who were friends with Eloise’s grandmother. They would bring their daughters and granddaughters.
“Some of them. Most have passed away. We stay connected mostly by email, which is stupid since most of us live within a mile or two, but everyone is so busy these days. I like the idea though. I’ll reach out and see when people have time.”
Margaux unlocked the door to the shed, turned studio, turned apartment and flipped the light on. “I did most of the work here. The contractor added the electricity and plumbing. It’s a far cry from what my dad had in here. I’ve thought about renting it out but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not sure I’d like seeing someone live in his space. Other than you, that is.”
Eloise stepped into the space she planned to live in during the summer and gasped again at the changes her aunt had made. A place that used to be drab was now bright and cheery, with light gray flooring, and a white kitchen and bathroom. All were accented with navy blue, giving the space a nautical feel.
“Is the roof still open?”
“It is.”
Eloise climbed the spiral stairs to the top and sighed when she stepped into the loft space. In one corner was a bed, bedside table, and a lamp. In the other, two easels stood, ready for use. She walked to the door and turned the knob, stepping out into the sunlight. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, taking in the sun. After a moment, she looked around the space and could easily picture herself painting there as the sun rose and set. Eloise couldn’t wait to capture the beauty of Seaport.
She ran to her aunt, who waited for her in the bedroom and fell into her arms. Eloise lost control of her emotions and wept. She had missed her aunt more than anything and couldn’t believe she was finally home. Margaux hugged Eloise and told her everything was perfect now.
“My home is yours now, Eloise, for as long as you want to stay here.” Margaux tightened her hold on her niece. “This is a safe space for you, to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
Eloise held on, not wanting to let go. Years ago, when her parents divorced, she should’ve pushed to stay with aunt, to finish her education with the kids she’d grown up with. In her opinion, her parents were selfish and used her as a pawn to hurt each other. In the end, the only one hurting was Eloise. Right then, she could easily tell Margaux she was going to stay. But then, she also knew she’d do herself a disservice if she didn’t explore her options when it came to art school.
For now, she’d enjoy spending time with her aunt, her loft, and the long summer days ahead where she planned to sit at the beach and paint.
two
Kiel shut the back of his parent’s Escalade, a monster SUV his parents no longer needed, and then climbed into the backseat with his sisters. There wasn’t anything ideal about three adults cramming together in the backseat. Yet, the siblings packed themselves in like sardines with a smile on their faces despite wanting to elbow each other and maybe pull each other’s hair. It didn't matter how old they were—the drama that came with “he's touching me” or whining about space never stopped.
It had been years since the Collier family took a vacation all together. In fact, Kiel couldn’t remember if he was a junior or senior in high school when they last took one. Their schedules rarely matched where everyone had the same time off. While his mother, Leona, taught third grade, it was his father, Emmett, who didn’t have the time to take off. Being in the Navy kept him busy. Vacations were from a lack of trying. It just seemed the government always came first in the Collier household. When Leona and Emmett asked—well sort of demanded—their kids not plan anything for the summer, Kiel, along with his twin sisters Skyla and Ciara thought something was wrong. Surely, they were moving again or one of their parents was sick. The latter would be worse, while the former would definitely put a wrench in Kiel’s grad school plans. The three of them didn’t know what to think when they found out they would be spending the summer in the coastal town of Seaport.
Kiel rested his head against the window and closed his eyes as his father pulled out of the driveway. The drive to Seaport would be just shy of three hours without traffic. Honestly, it didn’t matter when they left, they’d hit every possible traffic jam on the interstate. It never failed. Someone would undoubtedly go under the speed limit and create a bottlenecking issue, backing traffic up for miles and miles, which Kiel's parents would then discuss for most of the trip.
He loved his parents more than anything except their fuddy, duddy ways. Emmett and Leona weren't even that old, especially when compared to some of Kiel's friends’ parents. It was like they flipped a switch after the twins started their junior year of high school. Over the past handful of months, his parent’s habits have gotten progressively worse, like Emmett going to bed at seven thirty or his mom switching her reading habits from her favorite romance novels to non-fiction and taking the author's word as gospel. If Kiel had to hear, “well so and so said,” all summer long he was going to buy earplugs.
He wouldn't, though. If he had learned anything from his four-year stint away from home—he had amazing parents. Kiel had listened to one too many stories from his friends at school about how their parents didn’t care. He saw the hurt in his friends’ expressions when they didn’t get care packages or when Kiel would fly home for the holidays. Last year, Kiel rented a car, which cost him dearly because he wasn’t twenty-five, and took three friends home with him for Thanksgiving. His parents treated them all like family, and the guys didn’t want to return to school. At Christmas, Leona had sent those boys care packages, and gave each of them a gift at graduation.
As much as he didn’t care to hear how an actor overcame some obstacle while earning millions, Kiel missed his mom telling him about the romantic things her favorite characters did and how he should do them for his dates. He was a mama’s boy. Proud of it and never afraid to admit it.
Kiel opened his eyes and studied the back of his mom’s head. She talked animatedly. Her head and hands were always moving, even if the story didn’t call for dramatic storytelling. A couple of years ago, her sister had died, and Kiel tried to imagine life without his mom, the way his cousins lived now. He couldn’t. Kiel wanted his children—when he had them—to grow up with his parents. Emmett and Leona would make amazing grandparents.
His thoughts drifted back to weeks ago, when he returned from school. He finished his degree, graduated, and had a pile of acceptance letters for grad school. Kiel had gone back and forth between the medical field and business, and though he settled on working in hospital administration, he also liked the thought of owning his own business. What that business was, he didn’t know. Undergrad was supposed to prepare him for his future, at least all the brochures for college had said this. He was as conflicted today on his future as he was at the beginning of the year and in May when he graduated. The only thing he knew was he needed a job, something to bring money in because depending on his parents wasn’t an option.
All thoughts of finding a job went out the window the day after the twins got out of school. When he saw his parents join hands, he prepared himself for bad news. He recalled looking between them, trying to figure out which one had some incurable illness.
“We’re going on vacation,” Emmett had said proudly to a stunned Kiel. The twins didn’t seem to care until their father said it would be all summer long. Then there was drama. Skyla had plans with her friends to do this or that while Ciara wanted to volunteer at summer camp. Kiel brought up work and then grad school which, according to his mom, he could figure out while his toes were in the sand and his hand held a fruity cocktail with an umbrella. Of course, when she said that, Skyla instantly perked up and thought they were going to some tropical resort for the summer. No such luck. New England it was. Kiel didn’t have the heart to tell his mom most public beaches didn’t allow drinking.
He turned his focus to the road, already bored with the trip. According to his watch, they still had two hours before they’d be to their beach rental. Next to him, Skyla told some ridiculous story about how her and Ciara fooled two of their teachers this year. It was a tried-and-true trick that most identical twins did, especially on any unsuspecting person. The twins had tried to pull pranks on him in the past, but he could always tell. The girls kept their pin straight blonde hair the same length all their lives, making it near impossible to tell them apart when they aren’t together, but Skyla had a small freckle at the end of her left eyebrow. You had to get exceptionally close to her face to notice. Which, of course, her family knew about.
Ciara, who was older than Skyla by five minutes, was quiet and enjoyed being low key. While Skyla was the life of the party. Kiel fell somewhere in the middle. If he wanted to sit at home and watch a movie, Ciara was his partner. If he needed to hit the mall or a party—not that he’d ever admit to having his sister on campus—Skyla was the one he’d call.
Kiel leaned against the window again and closed his eyes. He wasn’t a great passenger and preferred to drive. If he paid attention to the outside or played on his phone, he’d get queasy. Not his mom though. She’d read book after book while sitting in the car, and then promptly tell everyone about the last chapter or the entire novel or life story.
The rancid smell of rotten eggs had his eyes opening and his finger fumbling with the automatic window leveler, only to find his window was up.
“Gross what is that smell?” Skyla asked before he could.
Kiel’s nose scrunched. The air smelled and not in the way the sand smelled after it baked in the sun all day or the aroma of salt water and suntan lotion in the air.
“Seaweed,” he finally said when no one else spoke up.
“Actually, it’s kelp,” Ciara told them. “Seaweed describes the species. Kelp is what washes ashore and what people eat.”
