The Summer I Grew Up

It was the year I turned fourteen that Sarah had invited her new boyfriend, Gerald, along to our family vacation. The pitter-patter of rain against the windows of our shore house punctuated each word as I complained to Mother in her private bathroom. A painted sign of a sea turtle in the ocean hung behind the toilet. Let the sea set you free.

"I mean, come on. Gerald? What kind of name is that?"

Mother only laughed causing indignation to bubble around my edges. My own sister! And here I was thinking we'd gotten past those terrible times. Being only two years apart and practically twins, it took time to adjust to the idea that nothing was really your own. But here lately, there had been more honest whispers under the covers at night and hugs that lasted just a little bit longer for no reason at all. Sarah could see me as a person and not just a pest.

Gerald came rushing down the stairs, tumbling so fast I prayed he would land on his face against the tiled floor but his muscled legs caught him at the bottom. Sarah followed after him, doing that fake laugh that made my skin crawl. Just because I was younger did not mean I was to be subjected to such treachery. I shucked corn leaves roughly into a paper bag as Mother spooned deviled eggs onto a decorative plate that said, "Welcome to the Beach".

"Thanks for the grub, Mrs. Belco," Gerald said.

He was such an idiot. So polite it was almost obvious what his intentions were. He was quickly making the whole family fall for his guise but I knew better. Even Father had ruffled Gerald’s curly blond hair after he’d helped us unpack all of our suitcases. I heaved a sigh as I realized I was the lone wolf once again. Entrusted to keep this family safe from boys with tanned skin on the prowl. 

“Hannah!” Father called from the first floor. I dropped a naked cob into the bag with its discarded parts and rushed to the front door. He rarely called in such a manner unless… 

He stood at the door in the grey polo with his business logo across the front and a smile lifting his grey mustache. He handed me a plastic bag with the words “Driftwood Dreams” on the bag. I stared at it before lifting my eyes to his.

“There’s a new vintage shop on the Promenade, we have to check it out. Had to get this one for you though.” 

My smile broadened as I hugged him and turned to take the stairs two at a time to my room at the very top with my plastic bag clutched in my fist. The t-shirt was velvety purple with a depiction of David Bowie’s “Alladin Insane” across the front. I brushed my fingers over the raised fabric and tried not to gasp at how gorgeous it was. 

I spent the next day walking the Promenade by myself. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. The two lovebirds had glided behind me, close enough to “keep an eye on, Hannah” but far enough away that they might be considered adults. I could not be bothered, and I was on a mission to find more vintage items for my collection.

I ran a finger over a small plastic tongue that belonged to Gene Simmons in his classic “Demon” makeup, literally drifting through my very own dream as the name of the store had promised. 

“Ger,” I heard the soft pleading tones of my sister’s voice from the other side of the clothing racks, “I just… want to make sure you’re –” 

“Please, Sarah. I can’t talk about this here.” Had Sweet Gerald finally turned sour? I leaned closer to their words, my hands pressing against a shelf on the wall next to me. The thud of plastic action figures against the carpet sounded all around as the piece of wood came down under my weight, crashing with the rest of it. Gerald and Sarah came running along with the cashier. 

“Hannah, are you mental?” 

That night I trudged around the house, unable to contain the curiosity simmering underneath my surface, waiting for my Mother to call about dinner so the couple in question would come down from their fortress on the third floor. A pile of perfect shells that we’d found at the beach that day was drying against the window as Mother uncorked another bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. 

Gerald raved about dinner and Sarah smiled each time it was appropriate but I could still see the concern behind those hazel eyes so like my own. 

“How was the store, Hannah?” Father asked. 

My eyes connected with the two pairs across the table from me but Father managed not to notice and I spun a tale of epic incredulity of everything I had found there, including the belt buckle carved into a yellow submarine and the ukelele with Bob Dylan’s signature on it.

On the beach the next day, Mother murmured about beach tags as Father flagged down the fudgy-wudgy man and I did my best to curl my toes in the sand and let the sun burn away any negative thoughts in my head. I had imagined the day quite differently, my sister applying sun tan lotion to my back as she always had, us giggling about boys that walked by, the taste of watermelon on our tongues. Instead, I lay silent and sizzling while Sarah and Gerald were off on their second “walk” down the beach. 

I wanted to rat them out and tell Mother they were probably hiding behind the jetty making out but even I knew that was a step too far and I’d only actually seen them doing it once before. I huffed my discontent, almost as often as the waves hit the shore until my mother pulled her sunglasses down her nose. 

“Sweetheart, you gotta let it go. Your sister is allowed to have this.” 

I glared at her for only a moment before murmuring, “I’m gonna head back to the house…” 

“Oh Hannah, don’t be like that…” she trailed off, but let me trudge awkwardly up the beach in my purple flip-flops. 

The sun hung heavy at the other end of the sky, almost as ready as I was to call it a day. I turned the corner to the outside shower and found Gerald sitting alone on the back stairs to the house. 

“Oh… I… Sorry.” 

Gerald lifted his head from his elbows and gave me a small smile, before turning and letting his ear fall back to his arms resting on his knees. He didn’t speak and for a moment I thought about slowly creeping away and pretending as if I’d never seen him. I thought about it but unfortunately, my heart intervened. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am okay, Hannah, thanks for asking. I just needed a minute. Sometimes you just need to think and breathe, ya know?” 

I did know but I didn’t think that Gerald knew. When I looked at Gerald, I saw someone who never needed to think or breathe, just someone whose plan wasn’t complicated. 

“Where’s Sarah?” I inched closer to him, putting my hand on the wooden railing. 

“She’s still at the beach. I told her I had to go to the bathroom. I guess I should be getting back… I don’t want to worry her.” 

His voice lacked that annoying vitality that had been there all those times before. I didn’t move from my spot at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded as he plastered the smile I was used to back on his face. 

“What were you talking about? You and Sarah, at the vintage store?”

The perfect smile faltered and I watched the tumultuous ocean behind his eyes reappear. 

“You can talk to me too,” I said, unaware of where this was all coming from. I searched my heart for the hatred I had for him while I waited for an answer. He shrugged, kicking at one of the many white pebbles that littered the yard to keep the grass from growing. 

“Did something happen between you too?” I dreaded knowing that truth, that I might have to tell Gerald that he had to hit the road if I had been right about him all along. But before he could shake his head and deny it I knew it wasn’t the case. 

“No… No, I… I’ve never met anyone like Sarah. She’s incredible…” his voice faded and I tried so hard not to notice my heart melting, just a little bit. 

Gerald was quiet again for longer than I expected and when he did speak up, his voice was small and not his own. 

“My dad… he…” The words disappeared on his lips but I waited patiently for them to come back.

He coughed, “He’s most likely… sending me away. To a boot camp, or something like that. He doesn’t "have time for my insolent ass". Says I’m kind to strangers but disrespect him. Yeah, no shit you lying piece of…” His eyes connected with mine as he remembered I was there listening to his deepest thoughts. He blushed. 

“Why? Does he want to send you away, I mean?” 

Gerald shrugged again, trying not to let the sadness pull the corners of his lips further down his face. “To learn respect? Discipline? I am sure those will be on the list of things he mentions. But in my opinion, he’s just tired of his own son.” 

His voice was bitter at the end and I couldn’t look him in the eye but I stayed still in my place there with him, holding my ground. 

“I am okay. It’s my business, my pain, and I deal with it my own way. Sarah just wants to help but sometimes I can’t make her understand… that I’m too afraid still. I…” 

I held up my hand to the boy that had ruined my summer. 

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.” 

He smiled, something small again but, this time, it was as if he had a friend in it all. My heart was jelly. I tried not to let my own smile appear but it had a mind of its own. 

"Wait, I have something to give you," Gerald ran up the stairs and into the back door of the house, returning only a few moments later with a small baggie in his hands.

"I know it's not much..."

Gerald pulled a sticker from inside, its edges holographic, and across the center, the original Sublime cover art from "40 oz. to Freedom". I rubbed my thumb over the shimmering art.

"No wonder everyone likes you."

This time I got a full grin before I pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for this."

I ran the sticker back into the house and returned to his side.

“Well, it looks like this could be the last vacation of your life. Better get back to the beach and enjoy it, right?"

Gerald laughed and together we walked back in the sinking sun to retrieve a family that wouldn’t send us away.