The Definition of Home

Emma turned over on her towel, adjusting her sunglasses as the warm, salty breeze brushed through her braided auburn hair. She checked her watch: 2:43 pm. Sitting up, she fished her sunscreen from her beach bag and layered her skin once more while watching the gentle waves graze the shore. He said he would be there by 2:45, but as she scanned the crowd, only the smiling faces of strangers playing Frisbee and parents playing in the shallow water with their kids met her gaze.

Taking a deep breath of salty air, she checked her phone once more. No messages. Maybe he’s just running late, she thought. Not a big deal.

Emma tried to focus on the plovers running towards the receding waves before racing back to the safety of the warm sand, but when she checked her phone, it was almost 3:00.

Just give him some more time, fifteen minutes isn’t that long.

She watched a mother unpack sandwiches for her three children, fighting a losing battle to keep them from getting sand in their food.

3:05.

A child running faster and faster with each attempt to fly a large red kite before finally getting it airborne on the seventh try.

3:10.

Surfers catching a small wave before losing their balance near the sand bar and being tossed from their board.

3:15.

Emma sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to show up. Checking her phone for messages one last time, she began to pack her things into her bag and prepared for the two-hour drive back home.

As she was folding up her towel, Emma heard a voice call out right before a football landed just in front of her feet.

“Hey sorry about that,” the voice called again, closer this time. When Emma looked up, she saw a tall man in his late teens approaching her, grinning apologetically. 

“No worries,” she responded, smiling despite her sullen mood. The man had sandy blonde hair that fell softly in front of his green eyes, and a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. He wore red swim shorts, and a shark tattoo swam across his arm.

“Were you waiting for someone?” he asked, picking up the football and brushing off the sand. She hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to disclose to a stranger, even if he was handsome.

“I was, but not anymore.” She felt him looking at her and quickly added, “he didn’t show.” The man nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Was it a boyfriend?”

Again, Emma wasn’t sure how much she wanted to open up to a man she had just met. 

“No, not a boyfriend.” 

He raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn’t press any further. “Well it’s still early in the afternoon. Before you leave, do you want to go for a walk or take a dip in the ocean?”

Emma opened her mouth to make up an excuse, but stopped herself. I’m already here, she figured. Maybe spending time with someone would get my mind off things.

“Sure, a walk sounds great,” she said, flashing another small smile. She gathered her bag on her shoulder as the man jogged back to his group of friends to throw on a white t-shirt and toss them the football.

She followed him along the water, watching her foot prints embed in the damp sand before being erased by the incoming waves that flowed past her ankles. 

“So what’s your name?” he asked her, looking up to face her as they walked. 

“Emma,” she said, placing her sunglasses on top of her head. “And yours?”

“Brian,” he replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma. Do you live around here?”

Despite the platonic question, Emma felt herself blush ever so slightly. “I live about two hours from here, so I don’t come here too often. But I used to live down the road when I was younger.”

Brian raised his eyebrow at her again. “Down the street? That area is beautiful. So what made you leave?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Emma muttered, less confident now. 

“I love long stories,” he said. “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he added quickly.

Emma wasn’t sure why, but she was actually considering letting this stranger into the tainted web of her family’s past. Something she didn’t even do with many of her close friends.

“Well I lived here until I was about thirteen. That’s when my dad’s drinking got really bad, and my parents decided to get a divorce. My mom thought it would be better for us and for him if she took my sister and I with her, so we moved inland.”

She focused on walking between the scattered fragments of cockle and conch shells that permeated the smooth sand. Although she didn’t look up, she could feel Brian’s eyes staring at her as they walked on.

“It turns out he was cheating on her anyway, and he didn’t try to stop her when she left. I think he knew that he had already lost that battle. So my mom bought a house far enough away that she wouldn’t have to be reminded of her life with my dad.”

Emma peered sideways to glance at Brian, who seemed to be absorbing her story before speaking.

“So are you staying with your dad now?” Brian asked. Not judging her, just curious. He watched her bite her bottom lip, as wisps of loose hair from her braid danced lightly in the wind. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, or why he was so fixated on this random girl. But he wanted to hear her whole story, as long as she was willing to give it to him.

“No, I just came down here for the day,” she explained, carefully selecting the words she was about to present to him.

“I haven’t actually seen my dad since then. He sends birthday cards every year, but that’s about all the contact we’ve had, up until this month.” She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m leaving for college at the end of the summer, so I figured it was time to mend the past, before I moved away for good.”

“Were you waiting for your dad before?” Brian asked, not taking his eyes off her. She held his gaze this time, and he felt her soft, honey-colored eyes bore into his. He hoped she wouldn’t look away any time soon.

Emma nodded.

“But he didn’t show?”

“Nope.”

They continued to walk in silence, passing a group of kids giggling and methodically patting down a sandcastle with plastic shovels.

“So is that it?” Brian asked. Emma kept walking. She had been asking herself the same thing, but hadn’t been prepared to answer.

“I honestly don’t know. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to meet up with him. I thought that maybe the impending date of me going to college would be enough to make him change his ways, but I guess that was irrational of me to believe.” After inhaling slowly, she continued. “Sometimes it’s easier to idealize people than it is to accept the reality of your situation,” she smiled meekly.

Brian nodded. “Well that definitely sounds like a tough situation. As hard as it is to come to terms with, maybe he doesn’t deserve you in his life.” When she didn’t answer, he worried he had offended her. But Emma just nodded.

“That’s a lot easier to say as a third party,” she joked, but his simple words had resonated with her.

“This is true,” he admitted. “But when my mom left me and my two sisters to be put in foster care, it didn’t stop us from trying to pry our way back into her life.” This time it was Brian’s turn to stare ahead while Emma studied his profile, reigning back her surprised expression.

“She was never meant to be a mother, and being a single parent didn’t suit her well. I used to feel so betrayed; it took me years to understand her situation. Sometimes, even now, I feel bitter about the situation.”

When he looked back at her, his eyes were serious, but they still held the same softness as before.

“It took years of wallowing to recognize the good that came out of that situation. My current family adopted me and was kind enough to later adopt my sisters as well. I consider William and Donna to be my true parents; they took the three of us in with open arms even though they already had two sons my age.”

He flashed a smile, and she noticed that his teeth were whiter than the pale foam that glittered throughout the waves. “Sometimes what’s best for us isn’t always what’s easiest. But maybe your dad isn’t someone who is meant to be in your life, just like my mom wasn’t meant to be in mine. And you never know who is going to walk into your life at any given point to fill the void you swore was permanent.”

Emma felt herself blush again. She realized that they were much closer together than they had been when they began walking; she was suddenly very aware of the six inches between her fingers and his. Brian seemed to match her train of thought and stopped walking, turning to face her. Although they were talking about her dad, she realized he was far from being on her mind anymore. She took in the sharp line of Brian’s jaw, and the way he ran his hand through his hair when he smiled. He was looking at her with those jade-green eyes, his smile growing involuntarily.

She looked over her shoulder and realized they had walked a lot farther down the beach than she had thought. But she didn’t want to stop here. She wanted to learn more about Brian, this good-looking and compassionate stranger on the beach who understood her complicated feelings about her dad.

“This may be wildly inappropriate given the circumstances,” Brian laughed, shaking his head. “But my brothers and I are heading back home soon to barbecue with my family. Do you want to come?”

This was not what Emma had expected her day to become. An hour ago, all she had wanted to do was rush home and forget the fact that her dad had bailed on her without so much as an apology text. Again. But she was intrigued by Brian, and suddenly she wasn’t in such a rush to leave.

“Sure,” she breathed, flashing a smile. “That sounds really nice.”

Brian smiled and began walking back in the direction they came from, and as they waded through the lapping waves, their fingers brushed against each other. Brian ran his other hand through his hair and Emma bit her lip through her growing smile as he slowly took her hand in his. As they walked back, they stopped to gaze across the horizon as the purring waves crashed along the sand before returning to the surf. With each lapping wave, the remorse she had felt just an hour before faded away, replaced by the exhilaration of holding hands with Brian and the unexpected insight she had received from an unlikely stranger. 

Surprising herself, Emma leaned against Brian and rested her head on his broad shoulder, tracing the outline of his tattoo with her pointer finger. Her cell phone buzzed in her beach bag, but she ignored it. Instead she closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty air that had once been a staple in her rocky upbringing. Now, after half a decade of being away, it smelled like home.