The Summer Of Tides

Chapter 4- Dust Off That Rust

The drive from the hospital provided Caden with a moment of reflection. He cruised alongside the beach, with salty water splashing onto the road, veering him toward a colossal rock.

Having barely returned home for a day, Caden found his summer plans lackluster. He couldn't help but long for New York, where this time of year would have him enjoying burgers with friends at a local diner or attending one of Sam's epic mansion parties.

The beach, on the other hand, felt eerily quiet, leaving him with minimal entertainment options.

At the end of the road, Blake's house stood as a repository of memories. It used to be their family home, one of the largest on this side of the beach, featuring three spacious rooms, a well-equipped kitchen, and a cozy living room, all with breathtaking ocean views. It had been the quintessential beach house and family abode.

Pulling into the garage, Caden rolled up the car's windows and stepped out. The garage appeared neglected, as if untouched for an extended period.

Clusters of old boxes were haphazardly stacked in one corner, an aged couch taking center stage. A worn-out bicycle leaned against the metal wall, while coiled garden hoses resembled slumbering green snakes on the floor.

He had reluctantly agreed to return home while Blake stayed by Pearl's side at the hospital. The memory of the look on her face when he told her he was leaving haunted him. Her expression had been a mix of desperation and longing, as if she could rip the needles from her body and sprint after him.

Perhaps, Caden pondered, Blake had a point. It seemed that a unique bond had formed between them, forged during the serendipitous moment when he had been the first person she saw as she awoke by the beach earlier in the day.

With his small travel bag in hand, he shut the trunk with a resounding thud and headed towards the front door. Just like old times, Blake had hidden the spare keys beneath a pile of rocks, a familiar hiding spot. He retrieved them, casting the keys an inquisitive glance.

It looked a bit rusted and old. Would it even unlock the door anymore? He did plan to give it a try so with that, he head for the door, the steps leading up to the entrance was a mosaic of sea-smoothed stones, forming a mosaic of color and texture.

Slipping the rusty key in. The door opened silently without even the slightest creak and just like that, he was transported back in time to a year ago when this place still felt welcoming and warm.

Sunlight filtered in through the large ocean-facing windows, casting ever-changing patterns of lights and shadows on the weathered wooden floors. A wooden table sat at the corner of the window, decor was a curated mix of maritime artifacts, beachcombing finds and contemporary elements giving the space and electric charm.

Abandoning his bag by the side of the door, he strode into the kitchen to examine the place. It appeared much as he remembered, but time had left its mark. The green cupboards, once vibrant and fresh, had dulled with age, their surfaces bearing the charming scars of countless meals prepared and shared.

An old coffee machine, a stalwart relic of a bygone era, stood sentinel by the side of the sink, its vintage appeal contrasting with the wear and tear of the space. The wooden countertops, once smooth and pristine, now bore the patina of years of use, their rich brown hues warmed by memories of culinary endeavors long past.

As Caden surveyed the kitchen, it evoked the aura of a rustic inn, a place where time had woven a tapestry of experiences into the very fabric of the room. The gentle creak of the wooden floor underfoot seemed to echo the whispers of all who had gathered here, creating an ambiance that felt both familiar and nostalgic.