The Healing Place

The invitation was cursory—a polite gesture to ensure their moral compass would be pointing directly towards “good enough”. Georgia knew this, of course, and yet it was surprisingly difficult for her to turn it down as she normally would. The family trip to Pentwater each summer was the source of Georgia’s most treasured memories before everything went wrong. So, when her eldest sister Denise extended the invitation (which wasn’t a true invitation) to join the family for a week in Pentwater, Georgia said yes. Her answer went unanswered, as many things did in her family, but Georgia found herself packing a small backpack of her things nonetheless in preparation for the trip.

           The summer air in her apartment was stifling as she struggled to stuff one more pair of socks into her bag.

           “Goddamn useless landlord,” Georgia muttered to herself. The AC in her building was broken more often than it was working, and the landlord Ronnie seemed to find himself “out of town” whenever things needed maintenance. A drop of sweat slid down the back of her neck as she finally slid the zipper of her bag shut. Pentwater would likely be even warmer than where Georgia was in Grand Rapids, but the crisp lake water would make everything worth it, she reminded herself.

           Georgia took a moment to ponder her sanity as she imagined the trip itself. A small car full of family members who never truly wanted her there and yet were too scared to rescind their “invitation”. Glares and passive aggressive remarks were awaiting her like sharks in the water. And yet, the promise of perpetual childhood happiness in Pentwater urged her feet towards the black Honda the next morning; a swimmer knowingly paddling towards their doom.

           The hour-long car ride was silent except for the sounds of passing cars on the highway and her mother’s frustrated mumbling about traffic. Denise made a sport out of avoiding eye contact with Georgia while her mother’s eye contact was instead filled with the weight of hundreds of past arguments. Her mother’s bright green eyes had the power to tell you that she hates you in a dozen different ways, each of which had been used on Georgia at some point in the past few years.

           Her little brother Jacob on the other hand, had his head buried in a book about the military too often to notice any tension or animosity.

           “You missed the turn, mom,” Denise grumbled. Her mother strung together an impressive line of curse words as she completed an even more impressive seven-point turn to head the other direction. After what felt like hours, the Honda reached the gravel driveway of the humble Flyaway Cottage they always stayed at. The family didn’t have enough money to own even the smallest cottage in Pentwater, but Flyaway seemed to always be available to rent whenever they pleased.

           Denise slammed the car door harder than necessary and made her way into the cottage, followed by her mother with her arms full of tote bags. Georgia at last stepped out and breathed in the fresh air of Pentwater. The trees rustled in the wind and carried the scent of sand and lake water as the birds sang and children shrieked in happiness somewhere in the distance. Her reverie was broken when Jacob slammed his book shut.

           “I get top bunk,” he said with a mischievous grin.

           Georgia matched his smile with one of her own. “You wish,” she said. And for one moment, as the wind caressed her cheek and Jacob’s smile bloomed, everything was as it once was.

           The family wasted no time heading to the beach along Lake Michigan. The August sun beat down relentlessly as if reminding them that fall had not yet begun. Summer seemed to always want to make its own grand exit in the form of blistering heatwaves in its last few weeks, as if daring you to proclaim the end of its reign. Georgia allowed the heat to wash over her in anticipation of the always cold lake.

           Children ran around in circles, kicking up sand and tossing toys to each other in a frenzy while relaxing parents sipped from their beer bottles. Someone was playing the classic rock station from their tinny radio while others lined up for ice cream at the edge of the beach. Fisherman lined up in perfect symmetry along the walkway of the lighthouse like statues. Something bitter and cold unraveled and washed away when Georgia realized that nothing had changed in her favorite place.

           Georgia glanced at Denise to see that her sister was watching her, but Denise’s eyes darting away just as quickly. She had always been envious of her dark features and her long, thick hair that no one else in the family seemed to have.

           “Wanna go swimming with me?” said Georgia, her voice hoarse from so little use in the past hours. “I bet the water isn’t even that cold,” she lied.

           Denise flipped her hair out of her eyes and gave her a look that almost took away her courage.

           “We can even play mermaids,” Georgia said, her voice getting softer with each failed attempt. But Denise’s eyes softened for a moment, allowing a small smile to sneak through.

           She scoffed at Georgia. “What are you, twelve?” she said not unkindly. Georgia grinned back. Progress.

           Their mother was busy working on a tan that would never come while Jacob had trudged up to the top of the sand dune to stare above the crown like a creep. Georgia rolled her eyes and made her way to the water, urging herself not to look back at Denise. She didn’t want disappointment to cloud her first dip in Lake Michigan in four years. Ever since she moved out at seventeen, Pentwater was gone—at least it was for Georgia. She could never force herself to go without the family, even when they hated her enough to cut contact completely.

           The contact began again slowly, starting with emails from Jacob’s ancient Dell computer that he refused to give up and escalating to short texts from Denise and her mother every few weeks. With each message Georgia could feel the fist in her heart begin to loosen. Arguments lost their importance and angry words softened with time. Now all she could think of when she imagined her family was the sound of the surf hitting the shore over and over again.

           Georgia waded up to her neck in the water, far further than most of the beachgoers. She took a breath and sunk her head underneath the waves as the cold water shocked every nerve in her body. The sounds of the people faded away and all that Georgia could see was the memory of her and Denise playing mermaids. She quickly re-emerged from the water before the memory stung too much.

           “The water is still freeing, you dirty liar.” Georgia turned around in surprise to see Denise a few feet behind her, her arms crossed in front of her.

           “It’s not so bad once you go all the way in,” Georgia answered, fully aware that Denise would rather die than get her hair wet in lake water. Denise smiled and Georgia’s stomach fluttered with excitement. Maybe the invitation was real.

           “Why did you invite me here?” she asked. The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

           Denise didn’t look surprised by the question, she only looked out towards the lighthouse, as if searching for an answer. Georgia was about to dip back under the water when she finally spoke.

           “Because you’re my sister.” Denise uncrossed her arms and then crossed them again, as if thinking better of it. “And this is our place. I don’t…I can’t be here without you. It doesn’t feel right.”

           Georgia took a shuddering breath. “What about mom?”

           Denise looked down at the clear water. “Mom is mom. You know how she is. She thinks that she’s still mad at you, but I don’t think she really is.”

           Georgia allowed for tears to slide down her face and into the lake. “I’m sorry for everything, DeDe,” she said, her old nickname for Denise prompting a sorrowful look in her sister’s eyes. “I didn’t mean the things that I said about dad. I was just angry at him for…for nothing, really. I just wanted him to come back to us and by the time I wanted to apologize, he was gone.”

           Denise’s eyes began to well up, but she had always kept a tighter restraint on her emotions and didn’t allow the tears to fall with Georgia’s. “I know you didn’t mean it, Georgie,” said Denise. “I think we just wished that you had come with us to the funeral.”

           “I know. I regret that I wasn’t there every single day,” Georgia said, her words shaking along with the waves. Before she could open her mouth to speak again, Denise had swept her up into the tightest hug she could ever remember receiving. Georgia breathed in the familiar scent of her big sister, the one who bandaged up every scrape and talked out every boy problem she’s ever had. Her sister who invited her to the only place where anyone in their family could truly heal.

           The night ended with the sisters curled up on the couch, catching each other up on the juicy details of each other’s lives. Jacob happily worked on a puzzle which was strewn out haphazardly on the kitchen table. Their mother worked on a crossword puzzle in the armchair next to the couch, sneaking glances at her daughters and smiling to herself, finally allowing the love to push out the anger.

           Georgia and Denise faced each other in a final battle, one which began many years ago in Pentwater during their childhood. Each girl held a sour candy purchased from the infamous candy shop in town, its sourness legendary and eye-watering. The girls popped the candies into their mouths at the count of three, fighting through giggles as each girl tried to maintain a straight face. Georgia would go to bed that night with her heart full and yet incredibly light for the first time in years, the sour taste on her tongue reminding her of the summers yet to come.