Another Wave of You ✓

Epilogue, Part II

P A R T   T W O

A small town in Miami-Date County, Florida

     Four months had passed since she last saw him.

     During a crisp day of autumn, she strode to a rare sight of an almost vacant Bond Beach. Predictable, since her sweater was billowing over the place and her short hair had already escaped its tiny ponytail. She rubbed her hands together in hopes of warmth.

     Summer was her favourite season, but there was no doubt there was something else in the autumn air. A drop of nostalgia; the cool sensation of the ocean breeze; the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet.

     She liked the colours; it was like the sun painted itself over them.

    "Well, if it isn't my favourite patron," Wanda smirked, leaning her arms on the table as she looked at the girl from the other side of the counter.

     El gave her a cheeky grin. "It is the best shack in the world, is it not?"

     Visiting Anchor's as a customer for the first time was one of the oddest things she'd experienced in her life. She gave it up on the last week of summer, and straight away chose Wanda to be in charge: she was kind, committed, rigorous, but above all, nurturing. And that was what the crew was about. Jeff complained about not having the proper appreciation he deserved, and El responded with a kiss on the cheek.

    "I swear, if you keep saying that..." Jeff appeared from the back, shaking his head at her. "I'm going to have to get a restraining order."

    "You'll regret that as soon as I — wait, is that stubble I see?" El stood on her toes and grabbed the boy's chin in her hands, turning his head to the side. "You dyed your hair brown again and you're turning into a man? Jeffrey Jones, I don't recognise you anymore."

     He slapped her hand away with his own. "When will you ever stop embarrassing me?"

    "When you become less easy to embarrass."

     Jeff flipped her the middle finger.

    "Hey!" Wanda scolded. "No-tolerance policy here!"

     El stuck out her tongue, and the boy mirrored her. Some things hadn't changed.

     One noticeable thing did, though. Anchor's was not just an old wooden shack anymore — when Wanda took charge, she also advocated for a little renovation. El trusted her wholeheartedly, so the dark-skinned woman called over a few painters and coloured the shack in all shades of blue. Sky blue, navy blue, ocean blue...

     Reminding her of something she longed for.

     It didn't look like its origins at all, the one her parents had designed and sketched over quilted paper, but that was okay. She was learning that letting go was not inherently weak nor spineless; sometimes, letting go was like saying goodbye to a chapter only to start a new one.

     Because that was what autumn felt like: the end of the beginning.

***

     Eleanor developed a habit for sewing.

     It came out of random luck — she was helping her grandmother clean one of their spare rooms used for storage space, and an old sewing machine was just sitting there. El's head tipped in curiosity blowing the dust and scraping the cobwebs away, before taking it up to her room.