For the Summer | Chan

1

I sat on the ferry's deck, holding a cup of coffee. The waves rocked us gently as we approached the shore, revealing the sandy beaches and wooden pier—the familiar sights of my childhood summers. It had been years since I last saw my grandparents and even longer since I set foot on the island.

They had decided to retire here a few years ago when I was starting my senior year of college. I had been such a good student and did nothing but study. Once I graduated, I was fully immersed in my career at a tech startup on the West Coast—long hours, minimal time off, terrible benefits...but great pay. I gave up my social life, other offers, and many vacations to prove myself to that company. But it hadn't mattered. The layoffs came, and I found myself out of work with a small severance package and a non-compete agreement.

With no job prospects in sight, I realized it was time to prioritize things I had been putting off—like visiting family. My grandparents were thrilled when I had suggested spending the summer with them. They had even prepared a room for me and offered to pick up anything I needed from the store to be more comfortable. Despite their generosity, I declined their offer to help with my flight. It had been so long since I'd accepted any financial help, and I didn't feel comfortable starting now. They seemed disappointed but I reassured them how excited I was to visit, which lifted their spirits.

As the boat neared the dock, a wave of nerves washed over me. What if being here caused me to miss out on job interviews? Unlike before, I couldn't just hop in the car and drive to the Bay. I was now several flights away from my home base. My belongings were packed away in a storage unit, and I felt like I was in the purgatory of my life—neither here nor there, unsure of what would come next. The future was unclear, and it filled me with a lot of anxiety. I hoped to find some clarity on the island.

I made my way to the ramp to disembark the ferry. I felt strange among the daily tourists with their kids and their strollers. I trudged along with a suitcase as heavy as the airline would allow and a bag heavy on my shoulder filled with necessities in case my checked bag had gotten lost. While I hadn't stepped foot here in a long time, the island was still mine in a lot of ways. It held pieces of me that LA would never see.

I inched forward slowly on the ramp behind a mom struggling to carry her toddler who whined and cried that he didn't want to leave the boat. He turned to face me since I was blocking his view, and I stuck my tongue out. It seemed to surprise him because he stopped crying to stare at me in surprise. The mom glanced back to see what had caught her child's attention, and I flashed her a friendly smile, as if I hadn't just teased her little one.

"Cute kid," I remarked politely before swiftly making my way towards the rows of parked cars.

"Emma!" I heard someone shout in the opposite direction, and I turned to see my grandad rushing towards me with his arms extended.

"Pampa, hey!" I grinned, and he enveloped me in a tight hug.

"You've gotten so big," he noticed and squeezed me once more. "I remember when you were barely up to here," he joked, holding his hand out at the height of a child.

"I'm sorry it's been so long," I told him again. He slung his arm around me and took my suitcase as he guided me to the car.

"We're just glad you're here now," he grinned and kissed the top of my forehead.

I looked around for my grandma, but she was nowhere in sight. "Where's Mema?"

"At the house. She wanted to make sure she had lunch ready for you when you got in."

My stomach grumbled at the mention of food. I'd taken a red-eye from LA to Boston, then a car from Boston to Hyannis where the ferry left from. All in all, I'd been traveling for nearly half a day with nothing to eat except the airplane pretzels and a sub-par coffee on the boat.