Andi narrows her eyes, unconvinced. She hops off the bed and runs off down the hall. I hear the sound of something tumbling, probably one of the moving boxes she insisted on labeling, the words in black sharpie indecipherable. She’ll be starting second grade this year once the summer is over and we’re settled… somewhere.
I lie back for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The apartment feels different now that it’s mostly empty—bare walls, packed boxes, goodbye already wafting in the air. The gulls outside sound closer, sharper. The scent of salt and seaweed drifts through the opening of the window. In just a few days Chatham will be swollen with tourists, the roads clogged and impossible to navigate.
Chatham has been home for nearly six years. A quiet stretch of coastline for most of the year. It’s where I rebuilt myself after realizing I was pregnant, pushing through college, getting a job with the DEEP that barely pays the rent. Where Andi learned to walk, to swim, to laugh without worry. I thought I’d stay forever.
But lately, there’s been this pull in my chest—soft, insistent.
A feeling like something’s waiting just beyond the horizon.
Going back to Massachusetts feels strange, almost like stepping backward in time. Kat and David’s place in Cambridge is too polished, too perfect, but Mom’s there and that makes it home.
And Mom isn’t getting any younger. It would feel wrong not to spend time with her this summer.
Andi deserves to know her family. Even if it means I’ll have to see Kat and put up with her snarky remarks.
I push the thought aside and swing my legs out of bed. The hardwood floor is cold and grounding. The clock on the nightstand reads 6:42 a.m.
The mirror across the room catches my reflection as I stand. My hair’s a tangle of dark curls, my eyes still heavy from the dream. The baby weight never really went away, but I don’t hate it the way I did in my early twenties. I look older, maybe stronger, but also… changed.
I pull on jeans and a t-shirt, tie my hair back, and turn on the coffee. The scent fills the kitchen, rich and familiar. It mixes with the ocean air sneaking in through the window.
We finish breakfast, load the last of the boxes into the car, and stand for a moment on the porch. The sea wind tugs at my sweater, finding us even though the coast is miles away, whipping my hair around my face.
Goodbye, Chatham.I whisper it in my head, not quite ready to say it out loud.
This place saved me once. It gave me peace when everything else fell apart. Maybe peace isn’t meant to last forever?
“Ready, bug?”
Andi nods enthusiastically, climbing into the back seat. “I’m gonna count all the bridges!”
“Good plan.”
Kat and David’s townhouse rises above the others, all opulence and pretension with beige and white “Welcome!” decorations on the little porch. Andi jumps out of the SUV before it’s even parked and I shout her name, but she’s already running to the door, and my mom is already there—her arms open, a smile on her face that makes my heart ache.
It’s been a long time since Dad passed, but it’s still strange to see herhereand not in our childhood home. Of course, Kat and David were there to save her. But, mom has always seemed unbalanced by the busy social scene and impeccably dressed people of Cambridge.
David marches past me as I tug a duffle out of the back seat, giving me a quick air kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you, Rox. See you for dinner.”
He slips into the sleek black Tesla waiting on the street and disappears. I look back up at the house where Kat is glowering through the window. I have no idea if I am the target of that look, or if it’s her husband.
When I make it inside, Andi is already bothering Peter, Kat’s ten-year-old son, who has headphones on and is ignoring her. Mom envelops me in a hug, and Kat gives me a tight nod. We chat about the drive, how tightly the car is packed, and the storage unit where all my things are until I find somewhere to live.
“Sooner rather than later, right?” Kat asks as she makes another coffee. Her third, Mom whispered to me.
“Um, I thought you said we could stay awhile?”
“There are more than enough bedrooms, Katherine,” Mom chides.
There aresixbedrooms here, all with their own bathrooms. Kat doesn’t look at us. “Yes, but you know, I don’t want anything interrupting our day-to-day life. David is so busy, he can’t be distracted.”
That’s how she sees me: not as her sister, but as adistraction.Kat glances from my head to my toes, and I wonder what exactly she thinks he’ll be distracted by. Kat has always been beautiful—slim and dark-haired, even after having Peter. But that sour twist on her face makes her ugly. If only she’d learn to be happy.
“David went to work,” Mom says in a low voice, giving me a meaningful look.
My brows raise. “It’s Saturday.”
Kat stomps over, finally sitting at the island with us. She’s perfectly poised as she says: “I have a solution for you. A job.”
