How She Came Home

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was dusk, on their last night in Midvale, and Becca was stretched out on her back on a plaid blanket covering a damp patch of grass. Freen was beside her, warm and thoughtful with her arms folded behind her head, listening to the sounds of rolling waves a dozen feet away from them. 

The tall grasses of the dunes and the canopy overhead rustled, a harmonising sigh with the singing cicadas, as they watched the sky slowly darken. It was dark enough that the first stars had started to appear, tiny pinpricks of silver against the velvety backdrop of approaching night.

"I've always liked the stars," Becca murmured, "maybe it's because I've never lived anywhere where you could see them that well, never really been anywhere you could see them. L.A., London, Hong Kong. They're so polluted that it almost became a novelty for me; it was always the best part about skiing trips, getting to see the stars from the lodge at the top of the mountain."

"Mm, it's one of the good things about this place. It's not so busy, I feel like ... I didn't appreciate that when I was younger. It was one of the things that made me want to leave, but now ... I wish I could come back more often."

"We can come here more often when you get back," Becca whispered, brushing aside the intrusive 'if ' that tried so hard to sow seeds of doubt in her mind. "I can't remember the last time I've ever felt so relaxed."

"Shocking," Freen mockingly gasped, laughing as Becca ribbed her. "You always seem like the absolute pinnacle of calm, what with you running a multi-billion-dollar company and literally never leaving your office. I'm surprised I haven't caught you sneaking off texts to Irin to ask for meeting updates."

Becca softly laughed, closing her eyes as her cheeks dimpled. 

"Ah, well, just because you didn't catch me, it doesn't mean I wasn't . Seriously, though, it's been nice to just ... not think for a few days."

"Mm. And back to reality tomorrow. And then ... one week."

A lump lodged itself in Becca's throat as Freen spoke, and she couldn't even form a reply, letting the silence stretch on between them as she swallowed three times, trying to force it down. 

It was painful, it made it hurt to breathe, and Becca gouged half moons into her palms as she curled her hands into fists and clenched her teeth to stop her bottom lip from wobbling.

They stayed there for another hour, stargazing and listening to the sea, while the night grew colder and they huddled up next to each other for warmth. 

She didn't want the moment to end, but of course it had to, and it was with bitter regret that Becca folded the sandy blanket, slightly damp, while Freen packed up her camera and the stack of polaroids and slipped the thermos of hot coffee into her backpack. 

Brushing blades of grass and little burls off the back of her sweater, Becca followed her down the sandy path to the beach and followed the coastline home to the house.

It was a quiet night, a certain air of solemnity to it, finality , even though none of them wanted to admit it. 

They sat outside on the porch, Mind grilling steaks and burgers and ears of corn while Nam mixed Sangria and they listened to the radio. Nun had the night off and joined them, amused by their antics and bickering, everyone laughing and trying to make the most of their dwindling time left in Midvale.

After devouring a Boston cream pie and tidying up the condiments and stacking the plates in the dishwasher, they all turned in relatively early, knowing there would be a lot to do in the morning.

Becca rose first, quietly laying out her clothes and packing away the smattering of perfumes and lipsticks and lotions that had been strewn throughout Freen's bedroom over the week, before she made her way downstairs.