Eternal Summer

Summer Plans

The morning sun slips through the large windows, casting a warm, gentle glow, that wakes me. With a stretch, I rub the sleep from my eyes and take in the peacefulness of the room.

As I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and touch the cool floor beneath my feet, I feel a sense of urgency wash over me. Glancing at the nightstand, I realize I had overslept.

As I rush down the hallway towards the kitchen, the smell of pancakes gets stronger with each step, drawing me in with its aroma.

Grace tends to the breakfast by the stove, her back facing the room.

"Morning, Grace," I greet her, my voice still thick with sleep, a yawn escaping as I shuffle into the kitchen.

"You slept well," she remarks, delicately placing a large pancake onto a plate. 

"Yeah, a little too well," I respond with a laugh, sinking into my seat at the table. "Your guest bed is surprisingly comfy."

Grace emits a soft hum, "You must've needed it after your long flight."  

"Maple syrup?" she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she holds out the warm plate of pancakes. 

"Yeah, that would be great," I say, my stomach growling in agreement.

Grace reaches for the bottle, giving it a slight tilt as the syrup lazily streams out, coating the pancakes in sweetness before gently setting the plate before me. 

"Hey, before summer ends, is there anything you've been wanting to do?" she asks curiously. 

"I was actually thinking you should show me everything Florida has to offer, since you've lived here your whole life," I suggest, taking a bite out of my pancake.

"I know some places you'd love. How about we visit the village shops? They've got some cute handcrafted jewelry," she exclaims.

"That sounds perfect," I say with a smile. 

Interrupting our conversation, the sound of footsteps redirects my focus to the back doorway. 

Standing there, framed by the morning sunlight, is a tall figure I don't recognize—a guy with messy dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. 

For a moment, silence falls over the room, our eyes meeting briefly. 

Then, as if suddenly remembering himself, he clears his throat.

"Hey, Grace, do you have an extra hose lying around?" he asks, running his hands through his hair.

"Yeah, come in Tristan. There should be one by the front porch. Let me just go and check real quick," Grace says casually as she steps out of the room, leaving me.

Tristan, so that's his name. I watch as he makes his way into the kitchen.

I can feel the embarrassment washing over me as I sit in my pajamas with unkempt hair, completely unaware that Grace had company over.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Tristan says sincerely. 

"Oh, don't worry about it," I assure him, waving my hand. 

"So, you're doing yard work for Grace?" I ask, my voice laced with curiosity. 

Tristan nods, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, just helping her out with some landscaping stuff. Nothing too major."

"How long have you been working for her?" I ask. 

"It's been a few months already. Just a temporary summer job, you know?" he mentions casually.

"It must be nice having a summer job. What do you do when you're not helping out around here?" I question, wanting to know more. 

"Nothing exciting really, I'm mostly always working. Gotta pay for college somehow," he laughs with a slight grin. 

I nod, in understanding. 

Tristan glances around the room, then back at me.

"So, what about you? What do you do for fun?" he asks. 

"Well, I like to write, and I'm wanting to explore Florida now that I'm here this summer," I tell him with a sense of excitement. 

Tristan's eyes spark with interest.

"Exploring, huh? Maybe I could show you around sometime," he suggests with a smile. 

"Yeah, that would be great," I nod.

I can't help but notice the confidence in Tristan's demeanor. He seems comfortable, a notable difference to my own shyness.

Grace returns, holding the equipment, her smile radiant as ever.

"Tristan, here's the hose," she says, as she passes it to him. "Hope this helps."

"Thanks, Grace. I really appreciate it," he replies. "I should get back to work then."

Grace occupies herself with cleaning up the breakfast dishes, her movements efficient. I offer to help, but she insists I relax and enjoy my morning.

With nothing else to do, I find myself drawn to the window overlooking the backyard. Tristan's there, focused on getting his work done.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice when Grace finishes cleaning up and joins me by the window.

"He's a nice guy, isn't he?" she remarks, following my gaze to where Tristan is working.

"Yeah, he seems nice," I respond casually. 

"He's been a big help around here," Grace continues, "I guess I should've mentioned he'd be around."

"Oh, don't worry about it Grace, it's fine," I tell her, placing my hand on her shoulder. 

There's a part of me that wants to ask more about Tristan, about who he is, where he comes from, but I can't shake the feeling that it would be too invasive. 

Grace nudges my shoulder with a slight grin. 

"Come on Summer, go get dressed so we can do something fun," she urges.

"Alright, fine," I respond, laughing as I begin to head towards my room.