by K. K. Allen
Rose sighs and nods. “Yes, your mother sent flowers and a card. I know that she must have been devastated, even if she didn’t show it.” Rose tilts her head, sadly. “It makes me sad to think you never knew your grandfather. He was an amazing man. He was a wonderful father, a giver to the community, and a natural born leader. He was the best husband I could have ever wished for.” Rose turns her head, as if in deep thought of her late husband.
“How did the fire start?”
Rose looks at me with surprised eyes, as if she’s shocked I dare ask the question. “We never were able to figure out how it started. George and I were out at the local market. We came home and there was smoke so he ran inside to figure out what was going on and he got caught between some shelves in the library. Thank heavens help arrived and found him in enough time to pull him out and revive him. But he was never the same. His lungs were severely damaged.”
Rose looks at me before continuing. “One year later, on the anniversary of the fire, he had a heart attack. Old man was just tired of fighting it.”
My breath catches in my throat. “My mom had a heart attack.”
Rose is saddened by my words, but I can see that the coincidence has already played on her mind.
“Yes, the same way your mother died. If it weren’t for the fire – there was just too much smoke. He wasn’t ready to die.”
“My mom wasn’t ready to die either. Young, healthy people shouldn’t have heart attacks.” The thought angers me. “What does it mean?”
Rose gives me a half-hearted smile and closes her eyes. “I’ve been trying to figure that one out too. Our family – there are many attributes that come with the Summer family name.” She pauses, as if considering carefully what she’s about to say. “I’m not sure if their deaths are related but I do know that you are a part of it.”
A part of it? Part of what? “What do you mean?”
Charlotte chooses this moment to enter the great room, carrying a second tray. “Would you like your tea in your den now, Rose?”
“Yes, please.” Rose stands. “Katrina will have a cup as well.” She looks at me now. “Follow me.”
Speechless, I stand and follow my grandmother down the hall to the corner most part of the house. There, a den is tucked away under a smaller set of stairs.
She sits behind the desk, and then gestures for me to take a seat on the opposite side. A quick glance around the room tells me everything in it is hundreds of years old. The room is filled with statues and glass cases holding all sorts of objects that I can’t make out from where I sit. The ceiling is high; a glittering chandelier hangs from the middle of the room.
“This side of the house is definitely the most lived in.” She laughs. “I just can’t stand all the stairs so I tend to keep to this one area.”
I nod. “I wondered about that. It’s not every day a 15 year old gets handed a master bedroom of a mansion.”
Rose grins. “I hope you are enjoying it. It’s a beautiful room but it’s just not for me.”
It doesn’t make sense to me but nothing about a lot of this makes sense so I decide to postpone the subject. “It’s different. But it’s quickly growing on me. It’s nice to wake up to the beach every morning. And the rest of the house is something else. Charlotte gave me the tour. The place is so tidy that it looks like you just moved in.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without my Charlotte. She’s like a daughter to me now. It’s just too bad her and your mother never met. I think they would be the best of friends.”
“You spent a lot of time with my mom then?”
Rose nods, grinning now. “She lived with me all through her high school years. She loved Apollo Beach. She loved the water and the small town. She had so many friends.”
Listening to Rose speak of my mother so fondly brings an ache to my heart. After all of these years, I had no idea that my mom and Rose were close. I had always assumed that my mom hated Rose for the same reasons she hated my father. And I just never thought to question it.
“Do you have pictures from back then?” I sit forward, anxious to learn more of their lives here in Apollo Beach.
The photo albums are sitting in front of me now, dusty from their lack of care. I make a note to myself to fix that when I have the chance. Memories deserve to be taken care of – especially memories of my family.
Rose gives me silence and respect, allowing me to take my time, while flipping through each page with a thoroughness that could kill the impatient. The first album I look through holds pictures of Rose and my grandfather in their young age.
“How old were you here?”
Rose glances over the desk to answer my question. “Oh, we had just gotten married. I was 19, your grandfather 22 at the time. An older man,” she smiles proudly. We spent a lot of time in Greece out of curiosity. That’s where all of this came from.” Her hands sweep through the air, gesturing around the room.
I look back into the book. “You’re beautiful. You look so much like my mom here.” I finger the photograph gently.
“I always thought she resembled someone who could be my daughter. Your mom never agreed.” Rose laughs again. “Was your mom stubborn with you as well?”
Smiling, I nod as I remember. “Oh yes.”
“Are you?”
I laugh now, unable to help myself. “Yes. My mom always said that whatever I wanted I would make happen. She said I was like her that way.”
The rest of the book is filled with photos of Greece. This intrigues me. Toward the back of the book were pictures of the original Summer Estates. It looked just as I pictured the house all of these years. Such an important time in my mother’s life and she never shared those memories with me. Were they too painful? Did she ever miss Rose? I can’t help but think now that maybe my mom did love Rose just as much as Rose loved her. Sadness creeps into my heart. We were happy together, but besides our time together and the odd night out, my mother really just kept to herself.
I turn through the pages of the photo album. The pictures reveal how magnificent the old house was even back in the day. The vast open windows that spread along all sides of the house are what make it brilliant.
“Wow, to think you had to rebuild your entire home after all that time is – sad.”
Rose nods. “We were fortunate enough to salvage what we did out of the fire but it’s just not the same. It took almost a year to rebuild, but we were determined to design something that we could see ourselves in for the rest of our lives. The one thing your grandfather and I wanted more than anything was to have a wing that resembled the original look of the home.”
I nod my head, taking this moment to look around again. “You did a good job. Has it gotten any easier? Life without him I mean.”
Rose closes her eyes, her chest expands and with a release she opens them again. “You probably wonder why I keep so busy with the city. It’s something I’m passionate about but it’s also a way to not constantly think of what I’ve lost over the years. Your grandfather and I were inseparable. When I start to think of him and sadness takes hold of me, I immediately try to remember the good times and my sadness becomes joy at the memory of our lives together.”
As she speaks I can see myself in her and hear myself speak these same words. Although there are pieces of my life that will never be filled again after the passing of my mother, I’m learning more about myself sitting here with Rose. In that, I find some peace.
The next three books that Rose gives to me are filled with my mom’s teen years. I spend even more time flipping through the books and have many questions for Rose. I ask about my mom’s friends and what she did in her spare time. I find out that she was a cheerleader. My mom, a cheerleader! I never would have believed it, but I can see it for myself. My mom stands there in her long green and black skirt and matching sweater.
I’m halfway through the photo album when I begin to recognize a familiar face appearing throughout the book, next to my mother. Hugging her. Kissing her
cheek. Holding her hand. Studying back-to-back. Chasing her into the water. I realize all too slowly that this must be my father. I’ve never seen a photo of him. An unfamiliar pang in my heart hits me.
“Did your mom tell you how they met?”
My eyes are still glued to his picture when I nod. Where is he now? A secret part of me, deep down, where no one would ever know, wondered why he didn’t show up after my mom passed. If he had an issue with my mom then wouldn’t he want to be there for me?
When my mom had told me the story of how she met my dad, I always thought it was odd. To this day, I know there is more to the story than she lets on because Grace never wanted to explain the details of their breakup. All she would say was that she did what was best for me at the time and she didn’t regret a thing.
While looking at the last album in my hands, things get too overwhelming. I set the book down and take a few moments to calm myself down.
Rose gives me space for a moment and then asks the question that’s been lingering in the air. “If you have questions about your father Katrina, I can answer anything you want to know.”
I know she is being sincere as she offers this to me, but it’s not what I want. Not now. It’s almost been 16 years without knowing him, so there has to be a good reason why he hasn’t been in my life. And although I do have questions, I choose to dismiss them for now.
I politely shake my head in answer to her question and look away. I’m grateful for Rose’s ability to move on with no additional questions or prying.
Rose walks me around the room. She begins to show me the statues from her trips to Greece. I pinpoint my favorite statues right away of Greek goddesses. Greek Goddess, Hera, stands with a peacock below her gold skirt, a crown atop her head, and real gold wraps around her body. I remember this from school too, but the bronze nameplate on the stand below the marble figure confirms that I am correct.
Inside the glass cases are ancient artifacts and Rose points out the pendants one by one. The Greek Owl, Cross, Horse, Sun and dozens more. All of them have stories that Rose explains briefly, but I am barely listening. I am too curious at this point in her fascination with Greek culture. When she finishes her story telling, I ask.
“Why were you two so obsessed with all of this stuff? I mean, it’s beautiful, but why such a collection?”
There is something unsettling in Rose’s features, but she explains evenly. “Because, it’s in our blood. It’s a part of our ancestry. Your grandfather and I just wanted to understand it all, as you should. We wanted to understand ourselves and where we came from.”
Suddenly, Rose becomes more animated. “If you look at our name, for instance, you’ll learn that Summer stems from S-O-M-E-R in old English times. After the Norman Conquest all names were changed to Norman French names. Your mom didn’t realize this when her and Paul named you but even your name has a deeper meaning, which relates to our ancestry. Katrina derives from the Greek Goddess Hecate.”
“Who was Hecate?”
“She was associated with witchcraft and other forms of the underworld. But she was also known as a guardian, protector of everything newly born. Unfortunately the reputation of Hecate has been greatly misconstrued over time. But if you do the research, you’ll discover that the only evil she ever inflicted was to save herself and her family from harm.”
“So what does your name mean?”
“Kind.” Rose shrugs. “Not so fancy, I know. But I think it has a nice ring to it.” She winks at me. “Come, sit. There is more to discuss.”
“What is that?” My eyes are locked on a glass case in the corner of the room near the window. It rotates slowly as the sunlight streams in on it, making the facets of the bulky, odd-shaped crystals glow. If you were to pluck one of the rocks from the other crystals it would look exactly like the necklace from my dream – a thin rectangular dagger.
Rose is almost hesitant before answering this one. My eyes are glued to the glass case in wonderment. “That is an amethyst crystal.”
I don’t know much about rocks, but I have seen pictures of amethysts before and they’ve always been purple. “Green?”
Her eyes widen. “You recognize it?”
I hesitate, but shake my head. I don’t want to bring up my dreams for fear that Rose will laugh. But now it makes sense. Maybe my mom had something like this laying around the house. That would mean I’ve seen it before and that’s why they’ve been appearing in my dreams. “Is it special?”
Rose nods, widely. “Yes, dear. It’s a very rare and precious stone. Our family has held that crystal in our family for hundreds of years. It is a symbol for the spiritual world. Being gifted with this stone is said to attract prosperity through strength of mind, emotions and will. The stone carries healing powers too.”
The thought of a stone containing all of these powers seems ridiculous but there is a part of me that longs for all of these traits.
Rose places a hand on my shoulder, as if reading my mind. “Have a seat, dear.”
I take my seat, across from her again, waiting silently for her speak. My eyes are transfixed on the crystal. “Have you given much thought to your birthday? Next week is the big day.”
Surprised, I search my grandmother’s face, wondering why this year she is taking an interest in my birthday after 16 years. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s a big day. You’re turning 16. It marks a big time for change in a young lady.”
I shake my head, frowning. “I don’t think I’m up for anything this year. I’m in no mood to celebrate, and I have no friends here. Please, don’t go to any trouble for me.” Not that I have friends back home, I think sadly.
Rose breaks through my thoughts. “Don’t be silly,” she says incredulously. “Do you realize what a celebration this day is? Not only is it your 16th birthday but the day of the Summer Solstice. As a Summer, you have a special right to celebrate this day, especially because of your birthdate.”
“But I’ve never celebrated it before.”
“This is the perfect time to start!” The determination on Rose’s face is apparent. The sight of this is overwhelming, taking me back one year ago to another memory of my mother.
It was one week from my 15th birthday when I was assigned a project at school that required me to know my blood type. I had never known my blood type; I had never needed to know. That day I came home from school and searched my mom’s office for my hospital records. I searched everything, curious now to see it all. I started looking over my birth certificate and read the name of my father, a name that I already knew but never wanted to look at again. There it was, staring me in the face on the birth certificate, I almost threw it down but something else caught my eye. It was the date of my birth that threw me. I read over it for what seemed like hours, trying to figure out why the date was different from the date that I’d celebrated for the past 14 years, I was angry. At first, I confronted my mom with the idea that I was adopted or abducted by her at birth, anything to explain the lie. She comforted me and eventually told me the truth about myself. I was not born on June 20th, but June 21st. She explained that she was superstitious and the date of my actual birthday was the day of the Summer Solstice. She never did explain things further, even after all of the demanding and begging. She left it at that and over the course of the year I struggled to forget it but something about the lie nagged at me.
My mom had kept the secret of my real birthdate from me for my entire life. I’ve never actually celebrated my birthday on its actual day and here my grandmother is determined to have a celebration.
“Rose, thank you for the thought but I do not want a 16th birthday party. I’m sorry.”
Rose frowns. “Katrina, I know things are hard right now. I know that. But this is important. I know you won’t understand why now. And I understand that with your mom passing, you aren’t in the mood for a celebration. But you are a part of this family and this is a day worth celebrating, no matter what.” She sighs. “And besides, it
’s my birthday too.”
We share a birthday? That’s strange. But now I know there’s no way getting out of this one.
And that’s the end of the conversation. Charlotte interrupts us moments later to inform Rose that she has a meeting at the Community Center in 30 minutes.
Chapter Four
“I’m ready whenever you are.” I say to Charlotte as I carefully touch down at the bottom of the staircase.
Charlotte is taking me into town for our shopping trip. After the previous day, spending time with my grandmother and learning about the Summer family history, I’m ready to get out of the house.
In less then ten minutes, we are pulling out of the driveway in the Escalade. I wonder if this is Charlotte’s car or my grandmothers. I guess it doesn’t really matter but over the past few days, living with Charlotte hasn’t been as weird as I originally thought. She is easy to get along with, respectful of my privacy, and a perfect balance for my whimsical grandmother.
Another dream haunted me last night but it was more of a jumble of illusions stemming from other dreams. The sand. The smoke. The necklace. The reflection. The cake. Charlotte was by my side again, whispering quiet, soothing words. Her presence calmed me and allowed for a better sleep.
“Where would you like to go first? I say we get you an outfit for the party.” Charlotte smiles at me now. She looks almost excited to take me out of the house. I realize she probably doesn’t get to hang out with anyone other than Rose.
I shrug. “I don’t really need a new outfit.”
Charlotte makes a noise. “Don’t let Rose hear you say that. This is her present to you, her way of bonding with you. You should humor her at least.”
“Then why isn’t she here?” As soon as I realize that I’ve said this out loud, I jerk my head up towards Charlotte.
She looks as though she’s trying to find an answer to the question. I’m about to apologize when she finally speaks. “Rose doesn’t leave Apollo Beach.”
I make a face, more curious now than ever. What does that mean? Charlotte continues. “Your mom may have never told you, but Rose has always thought about you and wanted to be a part of your life. She would be here today if she could.” Charlotte sighs. “I don’t want to speak on it, it’s really not my place. But let’s try to make the best of today okay? Find a few things to appease your grandmother and everyone will win from it.”
