With No Warning (Romance/Inspirational)(Complete)

CHAPTER 12: Home For The Holidays

CHAPTER 12: Home For The Holidays

As the road stripes were eaten up one by one by her car, Dakota’s thoughts tumbled around in her head, like her luggage in the trunk, every time she made a turn. Luggage in the trunk is what some aspects of going home felt like. For four months, she had carved out her new life with new friends and a wonderful job, yet somewhere in the deep, dark, locked recesses of her mind, was old luggage. The best friend that had betrayed her, the fiancee that had broken her heart, the legal uproar that had wrecked her peaceful life. When she reached her hometown, she would have to unlock the trunk, and there would be her luggage.

       The interstate was grassy and lined with trees on the outer edges, but she knew that only a few miles beyond, on her right side, was the ocean. And only a few miles ahead, was her destination. Long Pass was a coastal town, less than an hour from Pensacola. Her family home was only a few blocks from Powder Beach, a low density area, highly sought after by the snowbirds in the winter, and family vacationers in the summer.

       Scenic route next exit, the overhead interstate sign read, and even though the exit that she was waiting for, was hours yet down the way, she eased into the specified lane, hungry for a look at the sea. In a couple of short minutes, she was breathing salty air, and her eyes were skimming over the familiar trappings of the gulf. Choppy gray waters breaking on gray sand, dotted with white gulls. Long piers jutting into the water cris crossed with occupied boat stalls.

The tiny town of Pass Christian gradually gave way to Long Beach, then Gulfport, then Biloxi. Sandy shoreline turned sugary white, somewhere in the transition from town to town. Closer to her hometown, the sand, which consisted of small quartz particles, would be even softer and whiter, among the whitest in the world. Historic buildings and a majestic plantation or two to the left, grand, flashy casinos to the right, her eyes hungrily took it all in. Easing back onto the intrastate, she drove until she crossed the state line of Alabama. Shortly from there, she finally made the exit that would lead her to her tiny coastal hometown, and her family for the holidays.

The long driveway of the familiar two story structure, of much of her childhood and all of her adulthood, was occupied by several vehicles already. And weaving in and out amongst the bumpers, were her three nieces and one nephew, each navigating their own set of wheels. Dakota shook her head, with a smile as she parked, when her sandy haired nephew scraped the side of his mother’s SUV with the handlebars of his bike. Her nieces were on scooters, which fell to the wayside, as the eager children raced toward her car. They converged on her, just as she pushed her door open, and she emerged encircling them all in an excited hug.

“Aunt Codi!!!” They screeched, keeping up a nonstop barrage of questions as they escorted her to the house. She had a small present for each, and she fished these from her large purse, passing them out, as they crossed the manicured lawn, her father’s hobby. The shrubs were perfectly pruned, and a flower, or two, even bloomed in the beds, despite the season. The front door to the house was flung open, and her middle sister stood beneath the arbor and vines that covered the porch, beaming. “Codi!!”

A full half hour, or so, passed, before things settled down. Dakota, her mother, father and sister drank coffee at the tiled kitchen bar. Her other sister, Randi, had worked that day, and was not yet there, and her brothers were scattered about, but a pot of homemade soup simmered on the stove for the evening's meal, when they would all be reunited from their various obligations. The savory aroma caused Dakota to reach for another of her mother’s blueberry muffins. Enthusiastically, she answered their questions about her school, her friends, and caught up on the family happenings.

A tow headed moppet sat in her grandmother's lap, her hands occupied with the souvenir that Dakota had given her. Similar to a snow-globe, it was water and suds, and when twisted and shaken just right, created a whirlpool. Tornado phases, from F1 to F6, were printed on the back. Dakota had lingered over the informative toys in a shop, trying to decipher if it would be in questionable taste to buy them, considering the circumstances, but in the end, had purchased them for each child. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t still add thanks in her prayers that she had come through the ordeal unharmed. Maybe by having those toys around, the miracle would not be lost on the children either.