A Summer's Dream

Chapter 3~A New Home

Taking a deep breath I walked towards the woman I assumed to be Mrs. Holmes.

“Goodness…” She breathed out. Is that meant to be a good or bad thing? Subconsciously I ran my fingers through my tangled brown hair. Do I look like a tornado? Tsunami perhaps? I didn’t even know this woman and yet I felt compelled to make a good impression on her.

“H-Hi…” I stuttered out. I suppose leaning more on the anti-social scale wasn’t exactly the best of things at the moment…

“You look just like your mom!” My eyes widened as I was shoved into a death grip, life sucking, lung crushing embrace. Her accent was so predominant I had to process her words and when they clicked I winced. It wasn’t as if my mother wasn’t attractive. On the contrary, she’s beautiful! Gorgeous! I just didn’t wish to be compared to her. As much as I loved my mom she wasn’t on the best of terms in my mind, however she didn’t, nor did anyone else, know this.

“Thanks…” I muttered into Mrs. Holmes shoulder. Her death grip lessoned on me and we broke apart, leaving me trying to hide my gasping for air.

“How was your trip? We have so much to talk about! Oh wait, I suppose we should get your luggage first huh?” A weak smile spread across her delicate face and her hand grasped mine, leading me through the large crowd of people.

If I were to be honest with myself, her hand made me feel more welcomed; calming my nerves and bringing me comfort. Being in an entirely different country didn’t exactly make me feel safe. I had never travelled outside of the United States. Of course my family would take long car rides to different cities and places, but that was before everything…went down…

I shoved my feelings and thoughts away from me, waiting until I was by myself to think about everything. Now wasn’t the place or time.  

I watched as Mrs. Holmes trudged and shoved her way to the carousel. She snatched my large bag and waited for my smaller one as I had described them. A few people had grabbed their luggage by the time my little pack was going around as well.

A little guilt welled up in me and too shoved my way to the front, grabbing it before my mother’s friend could. I gave a weak smile and she smiled in reply.

“How was your trip?” She repeated her question from a while back.

Shrugging the strap farther onto my shoulder, I sighed. “It was alright. Not very eventful which I suppose it a good thing.”

“Oh it is!” She exclaimed, dragging my suitcase by its handle. “I’ve heard quite a few horror stories. Trust me, uneventful is perfect.” She smiled at me and the sound of my luggage’s wheels changed as we went out into the parking lot.

I nodded and looked up, a huge moon hanging in the sky. My eyes widened slightly and I looked down to the woman almost in step with me. “I have a question…” I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Fire away.” She smirked over to me and pressed a button on her keychain; popping the trunk open.

“Well…” I began awkwardly biting my lip. “My watch says it’s 2:36…But why is it so dark?”

Mrs. Holmes looked back at me while lifting my suitcase into the trunk. I heard a small laugh come from her and I handed over my smaller pack. “Oh Emily, it’s not two, it’s eight. 8:37 to be exact.” She replied while studying the small watch on her wrist as well.

“8:37?!” I cried out. My watch couldn’t be that far off!

“Yes Deary. There’s a six hour time difference between Chicago and the UK, didn’t you know?”