Sixteen
Seven years without seeing the ocean. Adelaide stood on the deck of the ferry, her hands aching from clutching the railing so tightly.
The sun was strong today, but the wind was stronger. Her ponytail whipped in the gusts. Other passengers came out to take pictures before quickly retreating into the warm safety of the cabin.
She could follow them and get a soda. Her throat was still raw from the cold she’d caught a week prior. Maybe the caffeine would help, too. Not that she felt tired. This was the most excited she’d felt in months.
Her ex-husband Shane always had a hard time making this trip. He’d complained it was too long – an eight-hour flight from Ottawa, including the layover. On top of that was customs, and packing, and the stress of getting to the airport, and the cramped accommodations at her dad’s house.
Shane was never a great traveler. He liked life the way he liked it. Smooth. Undisturbed.
Until, of course, he didn’t.
Adelaide knew she had to take responsibility for her life. She could have come to visit if she really wanted to. In truth, she didn’t even resent Shane in the moment. Right now, she missed having someone to share the mundane moments of her life with. No one else cared how long her cough had lasted and how many boxes of tissues she’d gone through. There was no one else who would make her tea with honey.
No one to tell how mist sprung to her eyes when she caught sight of Friday Harbor in the distance.
The pictures Sheila had sent were beautiful, but this? The shops on the hillside, the orange and white and blue paint on the buildings. The boats in the harbor, lined up and floating on the sparkling water. Seaplanes zipping in and out, a wall of greener than green trees, and the clouds scattering sunlight over the little town nestled into a hill.
Adelaide didn’t step away from her spot until the ferry docked, only relenting to wheel her overstuffed suitcase onto land when ordered to by the loudspeaker voice.
She dragged the suitcase behind her, the wheels clacking over every bump. A young couple broke their embrace to rush around her. A fisherman clad in stained orange waders untied his boat, glancing at her.
He looked young to her – in his thirties, maybe? The same age her father had been when she’d thought he was so old and so wise, when he used to come home late and full of sighs. He used to shed his wet jacket at the door, the smell of fish and sea clinging to his skin as she jumped into his arms.
“Morning,” the fisherman said, nodding at her.
It was rude to stare. Adelaide forced a smile. “Good morning.”
She gripped the handle of her suitcase and kept walking.
She still couldn’t stand to look at old pictures of her with her dad. It wasn’t just because her father was gone, but because that girl was gone, too. The girl whose dreams she had betrayed.
“Aunt Addy!” a voice yelled.
She spun and spotted Mackenzie waving from the sidewalk.
Adelaide trotted over, grinning, and wrapped her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”
Mackenzie held her close. “I can’t believe you’re really here!”
Adelaide pulled away, looking her up and down. “When did you turn into an adult?”
“Me, an adult?” Mackenzie stuck out her tongue. “I’m working on it. Granny is waiting in the car. Let me get your bag.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, but Mackenzie had already snatched it away.
She followed her to the car. Patty had the window down and jumped when Mackenzie opened the trunk.
“The radio is broken!” Patty said with a tsk . “I turned it up all the way and nothing is coming out.”
Mackenzie leaned in and pressed a button. A song blasted through.
“Ah!” Patty yelled, swiping at the buttons. “Turn it off, turn it off!”
Mackenzie hit a button and the radio fell silent. “I think I found the problem. It was you.”
“It was not me! This thing is too complicated!” Patty snapped. Her gaze settled on Adelaide and her eyes softened. “Adelaide! Welcome to San Juan Island! Hop in.”
“Thank you so much for picking me up,” she said, slipping into the backseat. “I promise not to cause any trouble.”
“Ha!” Patty turned around to look at her. “I like a woman who causes some trouble. Trouble means someone is asking questions. Trouble means times are changing!”
“Trouble means a grandma getting into a fight with a radio,” Mackenzie added.
Adelaide pushed her back into the seat, biting her lip, but Patty didn’t argue. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed.
“The radio started it!”
Sheila had spent hours trying to convince Adelaide it would be okay for her to visit before Sheila returned from Europe, and in five minutes, Patty had proved her right.
Adelaide buckled her seat belt, her shoulders relaxing with each laughing breath.
“Now, Adelaide,” Patty said as she pulled onto the street, “I wanted to keep you at my cottage, but Russell insisted you stay at his house.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure I can find a hotel somewhere.”
“Don’t even try it,” Patty said. “The man has a five-bedroom house and it’s wasting away. Well, Joey is there – his pilot – but he won’t bother you. He’s a nice boy.”
Adelaide laughed. “I’m much more worried about me bothering him.”
“He’s hardly there,” Mackenzie said. “He’s always flying around.”
“He’s dating Eliza, isn’t he?” Adelaide knew full well who Joey was. Sheila’s calls had kept her afloat this last year after the divorce.
Nineteen years and, suddenly, silence.
“Yes. It really is a huge house,” Mackenzie said. “Trust me, you’re going to love it.”
“Is it silly I feel like a student again, staying in hostels?” Adelaide paused. “Except I’m not a student anymore. Just an old divorced woman.”
“You’re a student of life,” Patty corrected, pulling into a parking spot on the street. “Don’t let yourself think any different. Now, is it all right with you if we pop into the grocery store for a second?”
“I don’t mind.”
They stepped onto the sidewalk. The heat wasn’t oppressive here, and the wind was a mere cooling breeze. Strollers scooted by and a dog sniffed at her heel. A woman with a picnic basket walked arm-in-arm with a man, two children running ahead.
The island was alive. Nothing like the quiet of her apartment.
“How have you been holding up, dear?” Patty asked as they walked into the air-conditioned shop.
“Good. Very good,” Adelaide said. There was no need to bore them with the truth.
An older woman pulled Patty aside, so Adelaide walked to the line of parked shopping carts with Mackenzie.
“I’m sorry about your divorce, Aunt Addy,” Mackenzie said as she wrestled a cart out of the line.
“Oh, don’t be sorry. I’m fine,” Adelaide heard herself say. “Don’t worry about me. I want to hear about you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you!”
Mackenzie stopped the cart and looked her in the eye. Adelaide felt pressured to add the rest of her canned responses, but Mackenzie grabbed her by the arm.
“So do you. You deserve better than Uncle Shane.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but a ball knotted her throat and tears pricked at her eyes. Normally, she’d have a joke at the ready to deflect, but she was fresh out of jokes.
One deep breath and she was able to speak. “That’s sweet of you, Mackenzie.”
“I love you, Aunt Addy.” She patted her on the shoulder. “Sorry. Okay. Let’s get some cheese. Do you want some cheese?”
“I’d love some cheese,” she said with a laugh.
They were debating between a blueberry brie and a truffle camembert when Patty came over, clutching a paper in her hand. “It looks like we’ve got some trouble.”
Mackenzie dropped the cheese. “Oh no. ”