As was characteristic for Sandy Cove, the day after the storm was bright and sunny, and so were the days after that, each morning sky unbroken by a single cloud. It was four days after the storm that I was staring out of my freshly opened curtains, taking in the beautiful weather from my little bedroom. I didn't want to take one day of summer for granted.
I darted back out into the kitchen when I heard my toast pop from the kitchen, sock sliding along the wooden floorboards as I did so. That was when I heard the snores from the lounge room. I tiptoed over to the wide doorway. Sure enough, my father was sprawled out on the leather sofa, a small blanket haphazardly thrown over him, covering only fragments of his body. When I was young, the sight of him sleeping on the couch surprised me. These days it was more unusual to catch him in his own bed.
I pulled the throw further over his body, careful not to wake him as he caught what little sleep he could. His weathered face was peacefully relaxed, a rarity in comparison to the tense, strained look he usually had hidden behind his friendly smile. I planted a kiss on his greying hair before leaving, closing the french doors to the living room as I did.
My hypothesis was that his bedroom, which used to be shared by him and my mother, reminded him too much of their relationship. It made me feel sick. Not in disgust, but in anger. Anger at her. I didn't understand how she could be living happily with her new husband and children when my own father couldn't even stand to sleep in his own bed.
How could love exist, when someone who claimed they loved my father could leave him like this?
Shivering from the swell of emotions induced by the thought of my mother, I remembered my toast and went to butter it before it went cold. It was often that I was left in hot flashes of anger when I thought about my mum, but they never seemed to dull. Even though she'd been gone for almost ten years.
After briskly eating breakfast I returned to my room to fetch my towel, hat, sunglasses and the book I was currently reading. As typical for the summer season, I had already changed into a bikini for the day. When I was younger, this made me self conscious, especially next to Maisie's slim figure. But it was the most comfortable and practical thing to wear when you could be travelling down to the beach at any moment. It was such usual attire that I didn't really think much of it, curvy body and all.
A I walked the few paces down to the wooden steps that lead down onto the beach, I cast my eyes over the shore. It really was a brilliant day, the sun gleaming happily over the reflective water. I smiled happily to myself. Until I noticed the two gorilla boys dotted out in the surf. They were unmistakable with their fluorescent coloured surfboards. They were beginning to show a consistent pattern of surfing in front of my favourite reading spot.
My usual little area on the sand was as soft and white as always as I shook my towel out and flattened it over the ground. Raising a pair of sunglasses over my eyes, I laid on my belly, facing out to the water as I removed the place holder in my book. I was re-reading an all time favourite today, I needed to travel to the book store in the next town over to visit their adventure section some time soon for fresh material. I'd exhausted the brief and limited range in Sandy Cove.
The sun beat down on my exposed body and the sound of the waves crashing relaxed me immensely. Paired with the distant sound of seagulls cawing and the salty smell from the sea spray, it made me nostalgic for the long summers I had spent here. I was just starting to become entranced by the first few paragraphs when I noticed a figure approaching in my peripheral vision.
I had to squint in disbelief for a few moments before I confirmed their identity. It was Alastair, on my part of the beach. As if my peace wasn't already disturbed enough with the gorillas.
YOU ARE READING
Not Another Summer Love Story
Teen FictionValerie O'Conner has a pretty good idea of how her summer will go, and it revolves around three very simple activities: sunbathing, working at the local ice-cream parlour, and daydreaming about a world where Logan Mathews doesn't get his way. What s...