It’s funny to me in a sort of sad way how so much can change in five years without anything really changing at all. I had lived in Hideaway beginning with dad’s death when I was evelen through that summer, at which point I was seventeen, and before that I had spent a third of every year there for the summer stretch and holidays. Needless to say, Hideaway had always been my home, and I knew the roads and houses and shops and docks and beaches and coves of that town far better than I knew the freckles on the back of my hand.

So to step off of the bus from Corpus (where the nearest airport was located) and feel like a complete foreigner in my own town was a strange feeling, to say the least. It was still Hideaway, yet it felt as though I had accidentally strayed into some neighboring town, perhaps on the opposite coast, and I had a hard time convincing myself otherwise despite that externally everything looked the same. Shorty’s Short Stop, a small diner with the best hamburgers you could find anywhere, still sat right beside the bus stop where it had been built years and years before I was born. I looked down the row of shops and across the still-undeveloped fields behind me and it all looked the same with only minor adjustments (a couple places had changed ownership or gone out of business entirely, and a few new establishments had sprung up), and yet it didn’t feel the same. I didn’t feel like I was coming home after a five-and-a-half year exile; I felt like I was intruding into the private town of the strangers that walked past, shooting me curious glances. Once upon a time, everyone in the town knew me, but now I had either changed so much they didn’t recognize me or else, I was forced to come to terms with, the life of Hideaway had continued on even in my absence.

Well my life had continued on without Hideaway as well.

I went ahead and rented a car, though my plan had been to just walk to Grandma’s house and borrow the perfectly good car she had sitting in her driveway. But I suddenly felt so out of place that I didn’t want to just waltz through town like I owned the place. I couldn’t help but look around as I drove and by the time I pulled up to the familiar little dark green house with its beige shudders and stooping eaves and the porch that I had spent more time on than actually inside the house, I was convinced that though I would never feel at home in Hideaway again, at least the house was blessedly familiar. The house was right on the beach, yet in incredible condition despite the elements and the salt and the fact that it was one of the oldest houses surrounding the town after Hideaway had been rebuilt post-fire back in the forties. This, at least, was familiar, and felt that way as I opened the door of the car and stepped out.

It was while I stood with my eyes closed, appreciating the sea breeze wrapping me in a warm welcome home hug that I had been missing for so long, that a voice behind me greeted, “Hey, you’re here.”

I turned and, my smile vanishing to a serious nod, replied simply, “Yep.”

“Well, don’t come hug your old mom too quickly or anything,” the woman laughed, throwing her head back so that the sun glinted off her sandy white teeth that seemed just a little too big for even her large mouth. Instead of answering, I just looked at her bronzed skin made rough by too many years in the sun without any protection, at her bleached blonde hair that didn’t match the crows feet beside her eyes, at her clothes that made her look like she had never left the sixties. I was glad she had told me who she was because I sure wouldn’t have recognized her right off the bat, though now that I knew, I realized that she hadn’t changed much except getting older since I had last seen her when I was nine.

She smiled expectantly, waiting for me to rush over. When I didn’t even say anything, she coughed, “Well... let me help you get your things into the house, then. You must be tired after traveling. Where did you fly in from again?”

“Wisconsin.”

“Wisconsin. God, what were you doing there?”

“Aunt Carol lives there. When you refused to help me five years ago, I went to live with her and her husband.”

She watched me for a second, as if trying to decide what tone I had used to say that, but I kept my face blank and matter-of-fact, so she decided to offer, “Listen, about that–“

”I don’t want an explanation,” I interrupted. “Just help me carry my bags.” I popped the trunk and unlocked the back doors.

In passing to the trunk, I guess she happened to glance into the backseat and suddenly her discomfort was forgotten as she squealed, “Oh, will you look at that? To think they actually exist. To think I’m actually a grandmother.” I wasn’t sure where this sudden need to be a part of the family was coming from, and I wanted to tell her she was no more their grandmother than she was my mom, but I bit my tongue and just handed her a couple bags. “What are their names?”

“Lily and Aiden. They’re four years old. Will you take these inside?”

She took the bags from me but continued staring in the back seat and sighed, “They’re beautiful angels, Jemmalyn.”

“It’s Jemma.”

“What is?”

“My name. I go by just Jemma now.”

“Oh? Why? Jemmalyn is such a pretty name.”

“It just didn’t fit me, I guess. Now are you going to take those inside?” She sent me a frown like she hadn’t expected me to be so cranky towards her, but turned and carried the bags inside like I had asked her to. I took a load of bags in myself and set them just inside the door, not bothering to look around the house, then let her grab the last load while I pulled Lily and Aiden from the back seat into the house and laid them down on either end of the sofa. After locking the car for me, Connie tossed the keys onto the counter and positioned herself beside the couch where she could look down on Lily and Aiden. What, had she not believed us when Grandma called her five years ago and said I was pregnant? It wouldn’t surprise me; she had a habit of not believing anything unless it directly concerned her. Or, better yet, directly benefitted her.

I used the opportunity to look around a bit and came to the conclusion that, like the rest of Hideaway, the house hadn’t changed enough to make sense. Really, things weren’t any different except that everything was messier. Dust bunnies were forming committees and having suffrage rallies underneath the furniture; trinkets and picture frames and every manner of odds and ends were piled up in leaning towers on flat surfaces. Basically, it looked like Grandma hadn’t been able to clean for a long time, which I knew to be a fact, and nobody else had apparently stepped in to take over, and instead things had just been shoved into corners and onto tables. I sure had my work cut out for me.

Just as Connie opened her mouth to say something, a faint ringing came down the stairs beside the door and she looked towards the stairway before explaining, “That will be your grandma needing something. Do you want to see her?” I nodded and silently followed her upstairs to the source of the sound, Grandma’s bedroom.

As soon as we stepped inside, Grandma stopped ringing and asked, “Connie, be a dear and– oh, Jemmalyn, dear, you’re here.”

“She goes by just Jemma now, Mom,” Connie quickly corrected, sounding an awful lot like a teenager trying to get the last word.

Grandma shook her head, “Nonsense. Why in the world would she could by Just Jemma? Just Jemma is a terrible name. She’s my granddaughter; I’ll call her what I want. Now come give your aging grandmother a hug, dear.” I quickly obeyed, smiling at the familiar scent of her old mothball perfume. Very little else about her was the same, though. Her wrinkles were deeper, her skin paler, her cheeks far more hollow. She was a fraction of the weight she should have been and a scarf obviously hid that a majority of her hair had fallen out. She seemed so little and fragile that I hadn’t been expecting such a smart alek response from her. She sounded a lot better than she looked. Seeing me studying her so closely, Grandma scoffed, “Now, Jemma dear, don’t look at me like that. I’m not dead yet.”

“I know. You’re a lot better than I expected,” I assured her.

“Well, there’s no reason for me to spend my last days on earth bemoaning the fact that I’m off to a better place, do you think? Besides, things aren’t so bad. I’m finally as thin as I always wanted to be, and I have the complexion of a lady of the Renaissance, and I don’t have to go get my hair done every week.”

“Oh, Grandma,” I sighed, frowning at her sick humour.

She just laughed and scolded, “My goodness, girl, five years ago you would have laughed with me. I’m afraid you’ve become far too serious.”

“I’m not seventeen anymore,” I pointed out. “And I’m a mother now.”

“Don’t I know it. I’m afraid you’ve become even more beautiful, and that is a tragedy, isn’t it? Beauty is so entirely wasted on the young. But where are those two? I haven’t seen them in two years. Don’t tell me you didn’t bring them to see their dying great-grandmother.”

“They’re asleep on the couch downstairs,” I assured her, pointing to the door.

“Plane ride wore them out? No matter; I won’t die tonight, so you can bring them up later.”

“Grandma, that’s not funny.”

“Oh, my dear, I wasn’t trying to be. But there’s really no point in beating around the bush, is there? Death happens to both the best and worst of us, so why not those of us in between?” At my deepening frown, she sighed, “Well, if it bothers you that much, I’ll be a little gentler.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, a nap is sounding rather delicious. Connie, if you’ll be a dear and bring me my pills, I think I’ll sleep for a bit until All in the Family comes on.” I watched as Connie pulled two Skittles from a bag on the nightstand across the room and Grandma tossed these back with a gulp of water, then fell asleep before we’d even stepped from the room.

“Skittles?”

Connie nodded, “Your grandmother isn’t quite as there as she sounds. She demands pills so often that the doctor said to just give her Skittles. When she wakes up, she’ll start telling me about what Archie did on the episode of All in the Family today. She may forget that she’s already seen you, or forget you completely.”

“How long have you been here with her?”

“About three weeks.”

I nodded, “That’s longer than I thought you’d stick around.”

“Jemma–“

”Never mind. I’m sorry I brought it up. Well what are we going to do for dinner? The twins are probably going to wake up soon and they’ll be hungry.”

She followed me into the kitchen and apologized, “There isn’t much food in the house. Your grandmother doesn’t eat much, so basically just what I need– we should go grocery shopping!” The idea apparently excited her so much that she tripped over a stool and then forgot herself for a moment to laugh hysterically at her own clumsiness. I ignored her and perused the pantry and refrigerator and saw that she was right.

“I’ll go after dinner. There’s enough here to make a meal.” I pulled a box of Hamburger Helper out and tossed it onto the counter.

“Can I help you?”

I raised my eyebrow and nodded, “Sure,” the role-reversal slapping me hard in the face. If I had ever engendered any dreams of some big sappy reunion with my mom after which we were best friends and the ideal family, they had just been crushed under the foot of reality. Of course, I don’t think anyone who saw us just then would have guessed it had been five years since I’d talked to her and twelve since I’d seen her. At least for the time being it looked as though we’d be able to live under the same roof (for the first time...) for a while without killing each other.

After I had taught her how to drain noodles, Connie praised, “You’re really good at this cooking thing. Who taught you?”

“Dad.”

“Oh, yeah? Yeah, I forgot he was a good cook.” I didn’t want to hear her talk about my dad, though –she had no right to– so I changed the subject.

About halfway through dinner preparations, Lily woke up and, never to be alone, she woke Aiden up so they held hands and yelled for me together until I went running in and asked them to hush, that Grandma was sleeping.

“We’re here?” Aiden asked, apparently confused by this bit of information.

“Yes. You slept through the bus ride.”

“Oooooh yeah. I knew that.”

“How did you know that? You were asleep,” I teased.

He laughed and twisted himself so he was looking at me upside down and insisted, “I just know.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry like now,” Lily informed me, grabbing my hand to get my attention. “Can we eat?”

“What, you mean I have to feed you guys too? It didn’t say that on the box!”

“What box, Mommy?” Lily asked, giving me an extremely confused look.

I laughed and kissed her forehead, “Never mind. It was a joke.”

“Ha ha ha ha,” Aiden offered in about the most fake laughter I had ever heard, so I tickled his sides and he started really laughing.

“Mommy, who is that?” I glanced where Lily (ever the observer) was pointing. “Is that Grandma? She’s not sick!”

“No, that’s Connie,” I explained, then paused, wondering how to explain things. Fortunately, for once in their lives, neither of them asked any questions.

“Hi Connie,” Aiden waved. Connie waved back and said some greeting to Lily who just watched her closely.

“Can we eat now, Mommy?” Lily asked after a moment, tearing her eyes from Connie and wrapping her arms around my neck.

“We’re in the middle of making dinner. Do you want to help?”

“Yes! Aiden, set the table,” Lily ordered, and he unquestioningly helped her do so when I handed them plates and silverware and cups.

It was just the four of us for dinner. Connie took a plate up to Grandma, but she was still sleeping, and though Aiden followed her upstairs and peeped through the doorway, he quickly came running back down and hid behind me while Lily refused to go up unless I went with her. Connie had lots of questions for the two of them during dinner and they had so much fun talking about their favorite toys and movies and colors and how they were learning to read and about our pets and so on that I kept having to remind them to eat.

When dinner was finished, as I was carrying dishes to the sink, Connie grabbed my arm and offered, “If you want... you can stay here and just give me the money to go grocery shopping.” She said it so strangely that I must have given her a odd look, so she quickly explained, “I always wanted to go grocery shopping for a family. Just... you just give me the money and tell me exactly what you want and I’ll buy exactly what you write down and you can check the receipt. I just never been to this grocery store here the way most people have and–“

”All right, I don’t want an explanation. Give me a couple minutes to write everything down.” She nodded and hovered right behind me like an over-eager child as I checked the fridge and pantry again, then made a list and pulled $200 cash out of my purse.

Her eyes went big when I handed her the money and she had the sudden urge to inform me, “I got a job.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?”

“Nothing bad!” she quickly assured me, no doubt reading my mind. The only work I had ever known her to have was...well, no, I had never known her to have a job of any kind. “I’ve been waitressing over in Corpus. Making three bucks an hour plus tips.”

“That’s good.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a seamstress for a children’s boutique.”

“Which means–“

”I make clothes for rich people’s kids.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

I nodded, she turned to go but was interrupted by the front door opening. Suddenly Aiden and Lily came racing into the kitchen to wrap their arms around me and inform me that some lady had just walked through the door without even knocking. I don’t think they were so much scared as just informing me of this strange lack of propriety that one would never have seen back home in Wisconsin.

The lady appeared in the kitchen doorway not a second later, apologizing, “I’m sorry, sweet things, I didn’t mean to– why! Lands alive and great God in heaven! That’s Jemmalyn Beckett or my name isn’t Louisa Heart, and I know that it is.”

“Mama Loula,” I smiled, feeling my heart leap at this surprise visit. I quickly stepped around Lily and Aiden to find myself wrapped in the tightest of hugs.

“Why my, my, just look at you, girl. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more beautiful, and here you go proving me wrong. And that means that these two dears must be–“

”This is Lily and that silly boy is Aiden,” I pointed them out, making a funny face at Aiden who was crouched behind one of the chairs and watching us through the slits. “Come here sweetie.” He and his sister reluctantly came and took my hands to peer up at the Amazon woman in front of them. “This is Mama Loula. Say hello.” They said so very politely and Lily confidently shook her hand while Aiden reluctantly did so as well.

“They’re absolutely beautiful, Jemmalyn. Absolutely beautiful. And it’s so good to see you, dear. You can’t begin to understand how good. We weren’t sure we’d ever... but you’re here now, thank the Lord.” I was surprised to see her eyes glass over, though she shook her head to banish any tears that might be thinking of leaking out, and that surprised me. I hadn’t expected my reappearance to affect anyone so deeply, but then I had also never stopped to consider what my sudden disappearance might have meant to people either.

“It’s good to be back, I think,” I admitted with a cautious but genuine smile. “A little strange, and obviously these wouldn’t be the circumstances I would choose–“

”Oh, that old coot,” Mama Loula snorted, pointing to the ceiling. “I’ll be damned if she doesn’t outlive us all yet.” Aiden and Lily gasped at her language, and she quickly grinned, “Oh, my apologies, dears. I’m glad to see your mommy is raising you right.”

Aiden waited only a second for her to finish speaking before asking curiously, “Kuse me, but how are you so tall?”

“Why, I ate my legumes, of course.”

“Ooooh yeah.” He nodded very seriously, like this made perfect sense, then turned to me and whispered loudly, “Mommy, what are glooms?”

“Veggies, Aiden.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

“Of course you did, sweetie.”

Mama Loula grinned down at Aiden again, then asked me, “Well, and how long are you staying?”

“I don’t really know. As long as Grandma needs me, I think.”

“Of course. Well, Alex has been in and out of here with your Grandma. I’m sure he’ll want to come right over when he– why, Jemmalyn, are you all right, dear?” I guess my face suddenly going snow white as my hand shot up to my head had alarmed her, perhaps with good reason.

I nodded, “Yes, sorry, I’m fine,” but didn’t feel the need to explain to her that hearing a mention of him about sent me over the edge. Alex. It had been five years since I’d heard anything of him, not since that summer, and so for her to suddenly throw his name into casual conversation –well, it made sense for me to react that way, didn’t it?

I guess she understood my reaction, though, and nodded at me like a doctor delivering a diagnosis, “Oh, yes, I’d forgotten it’s been so long. And things were so out of control when you left. Well, girl, even if I don’t say anything to him, he’ll no doubt be over here as soon as he gets wind that you’re back. He’s been beside him since your grandmother mentioned you might be coming back...“

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to see him or talk to him or about him or even waste a minute in thought over him. Perhaps the possibility had crossed my mind once or twice that in a small town like Hideaway, we would probably run into each other at least once. Especially if he had been coming over to visit Grandma, which didn’t surprise me.

Shaking my head to avoid commenting, I sighed, “It’s been so long since I’ve been gone.”

“But not too long. It’s never too long that you can’t come home,” Mama Loula smiled, putting a hand on my shoulder and looking down at me with the most loving smile I think I’d ever been on the receiving end of. I smiled and nodded, not sure I totally believed her, but willing to trust her for the time being.

“Mommy, will you read to me?” Lily suddenly asked, tugging on my hand as Aiden went tearing from the room.

“Yes, after Mama Loula–“

”Oh, I’m on my way out. I just stopped by to see if Connie and your grandmother needed anything. Little did I know I’d be seeing you again, dear! But I’ll be on my way now. You know to call on me if you need anything, anything at all.” Connie and I walked with her to the front and she gave me another great big hug before leaving us, taking off down the sidewalk with her large-brimmed straw hat bobbing up and down, the sunflower on the brim staring ahead of her like a third eye.

Connie left to get groceries, and I settled down with Lily on the couch to read about the latest adventures of Frog and Toad while Aiden rolled around on the floor, enacting the story I told to make Lily giggle. But though my eyes were trained on the words on the page, my mind rolled around on the idea Mama Loula had introduced to me. Was it really ever too late to come home?

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