Love on the Coast

Chapter One: Laney Miller

I roll down the car window and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sea breeze. We've been traveling for over 5 hours from Hartford, Connecticut and my legs were beginning to get stiff from the journey. The car continues to drive along the beautiful cliffside of New England. It was a gorgeous day, I knew immediately the first thing I would do when I got to Gran's house was take a dip in the ocean. The sun-kissed New England coast was ablaze with the warmth of summer, the salty air infused with the sweet scent of beach roses and the distant tang of saltwater taffy.
    I could see off in the distance, the small seaside town of Willow's Creeke. I knew that at this time of year it had to be bustling with activity as tourists flocked to its picturesque beaches and quaint shops. But that is not why my palms were sweaty or butterflies in my stomach, that weird combination of nervous excitement. I felt this childlike giddiness because on this day, summer was about to begin. It didn't start for me when school ended, no, summers began when I see that New England Coast.
    We entered the charming coastal town of Willow's Creeke, a hand painted welcome sign told us so as we drove pass tourist shops and farmer markets. The Main Street's charm was amplified by the presence of stately willow trees, their leafy canopies providing a natural canopy over the quaint shops and cafes. I stick my hand out the window and motion it like a wave, just as I would do when I was a kid, imagining my hand surfing the invisible wave of the wind. The feeling of nostalgia filled me as we drove through the historic road.
    I loved the rare summers I had spent here. Although it has been quite a few years since the last time we have visited my mothers home town, each visit was a crystal clear memory. There is something about the peacefulness of the slow life in a small town that makes it so charming. Maybe its the way this town makes you feel as if time stand still. The pace of life is relaxed, unhurried, and unhustled. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, freshly baked bread, and the gentle hum of conversation. The world outside seems to move at a slower pace, allowing you to savor each moment, breathe deeply, and absorb the tranquility. It's the kind of town where generations grow old together, where everyone knows every one (or at least knows someone who knows someone). But I think what I loved most about Willow's Creeke was that its simply authentic. Willow's Creeke seemed free from the artificiality and pretension that can plague urban life. People are genuine, and their values are rooted in tradition, community, and hard work. You can smell the authenticity in the air – it's like a warm cup of coffee on a chilly morning.
    My mother hummed softly to the song on the radio, the worry lines on her brow seemed to smooth over ever so slightly, the tenseness on her shoulders were not noticeably so. It was as if the town's peaceful energy seemed to awaken something within Marie, and she felt herself relax into her true self, becoming more confident and assured in her own skin. I wonder what it was like to grow up in a small town? Why would you leave the uncomplicated small town life for a chaotic city one? Whatever the reason, I am grateful to be here now in Willow's Creeke. Just like my mother I too seem to turn like putty as soon as we passed the towns welcome sign.
    I needed this trip. I need this summer to be simply away. Just a moment to breath and forget all the baggage...even if its just for next three months.
"Hey Ma, Is that it? Is that Gran's house?" Said James, my  nine year old brother sitting behind me. He pointed at a faded white Victorian Cottage.
"Yes, that's it. Now I want you two to remember to clean up after yourselves this summer, ok? I don't want Gran to be following us around with a dust pan." My mother answered, she gave James a knowing look. James gave her a goofy smile as she parked the car. I stepped outside and stretched my arms and legs.
"Whew!! So glad to be out of this car! My legs are so stiff." I exclaimed as I walked toward the trunk of the car to begin unloading. I stopped and admire the endearing home of my grandmother. If you were to look at this house, your first impression would probably be that it looks pretty shabby. It was a large old fashion house with faded white paint and a matching picket white fence. The garden was slightly unkept but it was dotted with wild flowers and surrounded by numerous raised garden beds filled with all kinds of vegetables and herbs. An arch way of tomato vines welcomed us at the gate and a stone path led us to a wraparound porch.
There at the porch stood a rather plump woman with grey hair wrapped in a loose bun. She had round face framed with a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on her nose and a warm smile. At that very moment, James dropped his bags and ran into her arms. I followed suit and embraced my grandmother. She smelled of strawberries and lavender. She wrapped her arms around the both of us and laughed. Being around Gran was like drinking coco on Christmas. Nothing but warm and cozy feelings that made you feel safe and content.
"My, my! Are these my grandchildren? Look at you! James you've grown so much and Laney! My, My! You are so beautiful, honey!" She pressed her soft cheek against ours and planted a kiss on our cheeks. I grinned, Gran had a way of always making us feel so special.