As the plane touches down at Norfolk International Airport, my typical excitement is overshadowed by a heavy heart.
Under normal circumstances, I'd be over the moon about visiting the Outer Banks for an extra week. However, these are not normal circumstances.
My mom, the ever bubbly second grade teacher at Stoneybrooke Elementary who never missed a day of work ever, had had to arrange for a substitute teacher the last week of school. I had arranged, with her help, to take my final exams early. We had packed our suitcases to the brim that Friday evening, after a trying week, and early Saturday morning we drug ourselves out of bed to catch an 8:00 am flight out of Pittsburgh.
During the flight, I was able to let my mind wander to happier times. Times when I felt carefree and utterly oblivious to life's pains. As the flight attendant announces we can deplane, though, it all comes flooding back.
**********
Last Thursday, just a little over a week ago, I had been on the couch working on my English essay while mom graded papers at the kitchen table. Her phone had rang, and the caller ID indicated it was Grandma. It wasn't unusual for her to call in the evenings a few times a week, so she had answered cheerfully.
"Hey, mom, how are ya?"
I couldn't make out what Grandma was saying, and I wasn't really trying, but I could tell she's speaking fast.
"What? Slow down, slow down. What happened?" Panic rises in Mom's voice and I perk up.
She gasps. "No, no, no, no, no..." she repeats the word over and over. I quickly put my notebook and pen on the coffee table and rush to her side.
"Mom?" I say weakly, scared to hear what is making her react that way.
She ignores me and keeps listening. Silent tears roll down her cheeks and a rock forms in my stomach. I try to listen harder to hear Grandma but my heartbeat in my ears overpowers anything I can pick up through the phone.
"Yes. Yes. We've both got some arrangements to make but we can come next weekend. I'll book the flight now. I love you, bye." She hangs up the phone and looks up at me. Her expression is so full of anguish that tears well up in my eyes without even knowing what's going on. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "It's Big John," she starts shakily, using the nickname everyone on Kildare Island used for him. "Th-they found him. His body. Washed ashore."
It's my turn to gasp. "Uncle John!" I cried out before throwing my arms around my mothers neck and sobbing into her hair.
"His funeral will be next Saturday on the island," she says between sniffles. "We'll just go down a week earlier than normal and stay the rest of the summer. No need to make trips back and forth."
I nod silently and go back to my spot on the couch, but I don't touch my essay again the rest of the evening. I go back and forth with myself on whether I should call my cousin or not, and I finally decide a text is best.
JB I just heard about Uncle John, I'm so sorry. Love you
He replies almost immediately. Thanks Em. Love you too. I'll see you next weekend.
*************
I shake the memory and stand up to grab my bag from the overhead compartment. The line moves slowly off the plane, though for once I'm in no hurry for the next leg of our journey. We weave through the airport to baggage claim, lugging our multiple, giant suitcases off the carousel. Somehow I manage to wrangle a luggage cart and I begin loading our bags onto it as Mom heads to the rental counter to secure our vehicle.
The trip from the airport to the Kildare County ferry is another 2 hours due East. The drive isn't bad, lots of interesting low country to look at, a stark contrast to the cityscape I'm used to. Today's drive is pretty silent, both of us reflecting on the circumstances which have brought us here earlier than normal, and no doubt the emotional toll it has taken on so many people outside of our family. Big John was kind of a legend on the island, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone I had ever met there were to show up at the church for his service this afternoon.
We pull into port ahead of schedule, but Grandma is already there waiting for us. Mom goes to turn in the keys to the rental at the ferry office as I help Grandma transfer our luggage from the rental to her SUV.
"How're you holding up?" I ask her as I let go of her embrace. She sighs.
"I made my peace with the Lord about it, but that doesn't mean it hurts any less," she says sadly, and she pats the cross necklace on her neck.
Grandma has always been the old Southern Baptist type. Always saying the Lord works in mysterious ways, the Lord provides, the Lord does this, the Lord does that. She had been shocked when she found out I was an atheist, even tried to convince me I was wrong, but she gave up after a while, stating the Lord would still come to me in my time of need. I didn't argue with her anymore since she decided to drop the subject with me after that.
"Are we ready?" Mom asks as she comes up behind us.
"I think. You may want to check the car, but I got everything from the trunk," I assure her.
She gives me a weak smile. "I already checked. Let's just go and get this over with," she says wearily. The three of us climb silently into the SUV and Grandma joins the line of cars jockeying for a spot on the ferry. Seeing who she is, the guy letting people drive on motions for her to move to the front of the line. Other people must recognize her car, because no one even gives her as much as a cross look as she eases her car down into the bottom of the boat with the other vehicles.
The ferry trip is relatively quick, and when Grandma's tires hit the sandy roads of Kildare, I feel a sense of calm, although it doesn't last long. The looming thought of the funeral and Uncle John weighs heavy in my chest. I stare out the window as we make our way through downtown, to the other side of the island locals call the cut.
Grandma is by no means rich, but for where she lives, she has a decently large house that's in pretty good shape. It's a good thing, too. She had raised 2 children there, both of whom had many friends who were always popping in and out. She had cooked for an army most nights and never complained. Even now, my cousin would sometimes bring his crew around and she'd feed them as if they were her own. It didn't hurt that she had fed some of their parents growing up.
When we arrive at the house, the three of us unload the car quickly and move everything inside. As always, I claim "my" room at the back of the house, it's window facing the shore. I quickly rummage through my bags for my black dress and flats so I can give them a quick iron before changing.
Half an hour later, the three of us are dressed and ready for the somber afternoon.
"Okay, girls, let's go," Grandma says, grabbing her keys and purse. We follow her silently out the door.
YOU ARE READING
Endless Summer // JJ Maybank
Romance"You've really got it coming to you now," he threatens, eyes blazing. He takes another hit of his juul before tossing it on the table. "Truth or dare?" "Dare," I tell him. "Do your worst," I challenge, and his eyes light up. "I dare you to kiss me...
