Page 2 of The Summer Dare
I love my sisters. There’s nothing any of them wouldn’t do for me. But I need to process the loss of Nana in my own way. I miss her like crazy, but the only way I’ll truly get through this is by taking this first step—and that means continuing the life Nana would want me to live.
Hearing a heavy sigh from Sloane, I can tell she wants to say more, but instead, she changes the subject. “Have you heard from Lizzy today?”
“No. Not today. What’s up?”
“I don’t know… I haven’t heard from her either. I thought she might have checked in with you.”
I love how close we are as sisters, but I’m sure as a senior in high school, it can be a bit stifling to essentially have four moms. “I’m sure she’s fine. If we don’t hear from her in a few days, then we can worry. But you remember that age—you hated checking in, too.”
Once outside, I’m reminded just how full my car is.Why the hell did I pack so much?
“Look, Sloane, I’m beat after moving today. I gotta unload my car.”
“Okay… I’ll call you after work tomorrow evening. If you hear from Liz, text me.”
“Will do. Love you.”
I have plenty of time to contemplate why the hell I brought so much crap, as I spend nearly an hour unloading my car. I blame it on moving apartments next fall. As I packed, I’d been unwilling to put some of my prized possessions in storage—like my photo albums and evidently, all of my clothes.
Unfortunately, the weather in Seaside doesn’t always cooperate and prove it’s actually summer—so I brought many of my sweats, hoodies, jeans, and warmer clothes along with things I’d wear in the summer, too. Which means I’ve packed entirely too much.
When I finish unpacking, I pull my car into the garage, parking beside Nana’s classic convertible. How she used to love riding with the top down the moment the sun came out. Closing my eyes, I fondly remember our many rides along the coast with her scarf blowing in the breeze. Even though it’s a happy memory, I quickly leave the garage to keep from dwelling on the thought. After dumping the last of my things in my room, I head to the kitchen for reinforcements. Nana always kept our favorite wine in the fridge and I’m certain there is still an unopened bottle in there when we last visited.
Opening the fridge, I’m relieved to find Nana still hasn’t let me down.
Within minutes, the bottle’s open and I’ve poured myself a large glass. Walking into the living room, I sink into my favorite end of her couch. I should finish unpacking my bags, but I need a breather. As I listen to the constant whir of the wind and waves crashing against the shore outside, I understand why Nana would often sit and do the same. Notwanting to get lost in my past or contemplate a future without her, I clear my mind and simply exist in this moment. A sense of peace washes over me as I sip my Moscato. It’s like I can feel her presence and she’s still here watching over me.
I’m not sure how long I stay in this state, but before I know it, my glass is empty. Reluctantly, I pull myself back to reality and head to the kitchen. After refilling my glass of wine, I return to my room, grab a hanger, and get to work.
By the time I slip into my sheets, my eyes will barely stay open. I’m not sure which had a greater effect––the wine or the stress of the day. Either way, I’m beat. I’m not even sure my head hits the pillow before I fall into a coma-like sleep.
I don’t even dream. I’m that tired.
That is until a scene from a horror movie I watched as a kid comes to life.
Bolting straight out of bed to the sound of a chainsaw coming through the house, I’m on my feet in an instant.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Someone’s breaking into the house—with a chainsaw?
This cannot be happening.
My heart pounds through my chest as I grab the nearest weapon I can get my hands on and rush to the stairs. There’s no way I’m going down without a fight.
As soon as my feet hit the floor in the living room, I realize the sound is actually outside on the front deck, but I’m still not having it. There’s no way in hell I’m letting anyone do anything to Nana’s house if I can help it. This place is everything to me.
Swinging open the door so hard that it nearly rips off the hinge, I stomp onto the front deck. As soon as I spot the culprit leaning against the wall using a tool that is most definitelyNOTa chainsaw to cut at the house—I scream above the noise. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The cutting continues as if he hasn’t heard a word I said.
Spotting the extension cord on the opposite side of the deck, I march over on a mission and unplug it. Instantly the shrilling machine silences and a low oath rips from the man’s lips as he inspects his machine before locating the cord.
His eyes widen and he stands to his full height. Holy shit. I didn’t think this through. He’s considerably taller than me, but I'm too angry to care.
Swinging the coat hanger in his direction for emphasis, I shout, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He eyes me up and down and then lands on the coat hanger I’m wielding in my hand as his hands drop to his sides and a smirk forms on his face. His shoulders straighten and his chin juts out as one brow raises in speculation. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
