Another Door Opens

6. A drop in the ocean.

- EDEN -

Penn had followed Piper outside when he saw her rushing after me in my storm out, so was integral in helping me console her and get her back inside. He took her out of my arms and into his, asked me if I was okay and if I wanted him to drive me back to Luna and Wolfe’s.

I considered it for a brief second before I caught my sister’s eye behind him and realised how mad I still was. I needed to calm down before I dragged my now-negative energy into my time with my friends later on, so decided that a long ass walk back to Luna’s was the best option. My feet, currently adorned with Doc Martens which were very likely to generate blisters that would last days considering the hike I was about to embark on, were already crying at me.

“How do you feel about breakfast tomorrow morning, post-eleven a.m. considering I know the amount of vino Luna keeps in her house?” Penn chuckled to himself as I bent down to re-tie my shoelaces, causing me to laugh and lose my balance a fraction.

“Can I come to breakfast, too?” Piper asked, jumping down from Penn’s arms and bolting back to the front door where Elodie was standing, watching. “Mummy, Great Uncle Penn and Aunty Eden are taking me to breakfast with them tomorrow!”

I sighed, presuming there was no hope of convincing Elodie to let me spend some extra time with Piper after the argument we had.

"I'll work on your crazy sister, Eden," said Penn, “and we'll both see you in the morning."

I thanked my uncle and blew a kiss to my niece before I turned around and began walking. I know the area well, having lived here all my childhood and spent a considerable amount of time at my grandparents’ house when I was younger, and I’m expecting the walk will take me a solid couple hours, made longer by my very real, emotional need to take a detour along the ocean.

I remember having a conversation with Luna once many years ago after she came back from a trip with her friend Dalen to Uluru in the centre of Australia. She said it was beautiful and that she was glad she was able to go and see it, but that she missed the ocean. That she felt like she was drowning being away from it for so long. Back then I could appreciate what she was saying, but I never really understood what she meant until I moved to Melbourne to live in the city with Trey. The salt and sand and sun of Byron runs in my veins as much as blood and oxygen. It keeps me connected to my home, even when I’m thousands of kilometres away.

The beaches here are nothing like the ones in Melbourne. Melbourne beaches, at least the ones in the bay near the city where I live, are very often motionless unless there’s a lot of wind around. Even then, they still lack the life and sparkle of the ocean beaches I grew up with here.

I felt myself instinctively inhaling the salt on the air when I got close enough to the ocean to recognise that familiar smell I know so well. There’s a brightness in it that bleeds into your pores, your eyes, your smile, which spread so naturally over my face upon that recognition that no one walking nearby glancing a look at me would ever know I effectively just excommunicated myself from my own family, or that I’m processing the loss of a love I once held for almost a decade.

The smell of the ocean alone almost made me forget it all myself. 

I took my shoes off when I got close enough to the beach to avoid the discomfort of sand in my socks, and kept on walking until I reached the water, hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder to avoid getting it wet when I waded in to my knees.

Seeing as it’s the beginning of summer, it’s unsurprising that there are so many people about. Some locals, some visitors travelling through. I guess I myself am a mixture of both these days.