Because of Haven Beach

8 | querencia

querencia (n.)

a place from which one's strength is drawn; where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

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FRIDAY night, Aunt Kelli insisted on going out to dinner as a family to celebrate our long-awaited return. She made reservations for six at Johnson's American Bar & Grill, a restaurant that was a local favorite.

As we walked in the door, I took an instant liking to the furnishings. The restaurant had a brown and tan color scheme going on. There were tables littered in the middle of the open dining area, surrounded by booths on the outskirts. The walls were lined with TVs and New England sports photos and jerseys.

"How was your first week of school, Charlotte?" Uncle Ricky asked as we were seated at a booth in the corner.

"Pretty good. Everyone's really nice." I said, absentmindedly scanning the menu. The picture and description of the five-cheese mac and cheese instantly caught my eye. It was definitely unhealthy but sounded so freaking good. Maybe I could get that and a salad. Maybe a Caesar Salad?

My mom nudged me.

"What?" I whispered, discreetly covering my mouth with the menu.

"You don't have anything else to say?"

I swiveled to address Uncle Ricky, "Sorry, I got distracted... Uh, my teachers all seem great. Except for my Environmental one, but that's a whole other story. And, um, I'm starting to learn my way around the building, so that's good, I guess."

Eli and Ben stayed after school with me earlier that day to give me a real tour. It helped tremendously.

"That's great to hear," he smiled at me. "And, Michelle, how is your job search going?"

She politely set her menu down. "It's great so far. I have an interview at Haven Beach Elementary soon for their open secretary position. They actually called me back this morning."

I had no clue. "That's great, mom!" I smiled warmly at her, genuinely happy she found a job. I knew she was feeling anxious since she hasn't worked since college.

"Yeah. Hopefully it goes well... The sooner I get a job, the sooner we can get out of your hair."

"Stick around as long as you need to. I missed having my baby sister around." Ricky reached over to ruffle her hair as you would a child.

"Such a difference from when we were kids," my mom laughed as she smoothed her hair back into place. "You hated me."

"Remember the time we locked her out of your parent's house?" Kelli chuckled.

"Of course. She broke my arm while getting revenge the next day," he shuddered, rubbing his elbow. "I still have the scars."

"You deserved it," my mom sang. "I had to sleep in the garage that night and nearly froze to death."

"Nobody deserves getting pushed down a staircase," he shot back.

"Touché," she chuckled.