Daughter of a Witch

Summer Homecoming

The car rolled up the driveway, its tires crunching on the gravel, the sound mingling with the soft rustle of trees swaying in the evening breeze. Y/n practically flew out of the car before it had fully stopped, her duffle bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder and a bright grin lighting up her suntanned face. Her hair was lighter from the sun, streaked with gold highlights that seemed to glow in the fading light, and her skin bore the telltale signs of a summer well spent: freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, and the sharp, ridiculous outline of her Chaco sandals stark against the tan on her feet.

"Home!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the quiet house as she flung open the front door. "I'm home!"

No response. The house was unusually still, its usual hum of life absent, but Y/n's excitement didn't waver. She dropped her bag with a thud by the door, kicked off her sneakers, and padded through the familiar halls. Each step brought a rush of memories: the creak of the third stair, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air, and the way the sunlight filtered through the stained glass panel by the front window, casting colorful patterns on the walls.

The living room was empty, the cushions on the couch perfectly arranged, and the kitchen was still, save for a few mugs drying on the counter. A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she caught sight of the open sliding door leading to the backyard.

"They're outside," she whispered to herself, her tone carrying a hint of fondness.

She stepped onto the patio, the warm evening breeze wrapping around her like a familiar hug, carrying with it the earthy scent of freshly turned soil. Sure enough, there they were: Agatha lounged in a chair with a book, her legs tucked under her, while Rio knelt by her garden, carefully pruning the tomato plants. The scene was so quintessentially them that Y/n's heart swelled with affection.

"Mami! Mama!" she called, her voice bright and full of joy.

Rio turned first, her expression lighting up as she saw her daughter. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, dropping her shears and bounding over in a near sprint. The speed surprised Y/n, who barely had time to brace herself before she was enveloped in a tight, warm hug.

"Look at you!" Rio said, pulling back to take her in, her hands resting firmly on Y/n's shoulders as if to confirm she was really there. "You're so tan! And—what is that?" She pointed to Y/n's feet, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Is that the world's worst sandal tan?"

Y/n laughed, kicking her foot out to show it off with exaggerated pride. "It's a Chaco tan, Mami. A badge of honor."

Rio rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "A badge of something, all right. Did you spend the whole summer chasing the sun?"

"Pretty much," Y/n replied cheekily, reaching out to brush a stray leaf off Rio's shirt. "You've been busy, too, huh?" She gestured toward the garden.

"Always," Rio said with a wink. "These tomatoes won't grow themselves."

Agatha joined them then, her book forgotten on the chair as she rose with a grace that belied her casual demeanor. Her arms opened, and Y/n stepped into the embrace without hesitation. Her heart settled as she felt her mother's familiar warmth. One of her hands cradled the back of Y/n's head, and the other rested on her back, her lips pressing softly to her daughter's temple.

"Welcome home, darling," Agatha murmured, her voice low and full of emotion. "We missed you."

"I missed you, too," Y/n said, her voice muffled against Agatha's shoulder. "So much."

Dinner that night was a feast of all of Y/n's favorites: a big pot of spaghetti with rich marinara sauce, garlic bread fresh from the oven, a crisp Caesar salad, and a triple chocolate cake Agatha had baked earlier that day.