Vienna Beach: Paradise

Bay’s P.O.V~

In the end it didn’t matter. Just the idea of being back here in Vienna had me grinning like an idiot. I was finally back—home.

“What are you so smiley about?” my father asked me, chuckling softly to himself. “We’re not even to the house yet.”

Knowing that we wouldn’t be living in our old home did bum me out, but I guess I had to realize sooner or later that things had changed in the six years I had been gone. Even me.

“Still,” I said, twisting around to get a better view of the beach. The sun had just dipped below the horizon an hour ago, but I could still see the faint glimmer of the ocean. “Look, there it is, can y’all see it?”

“Bay, can you please sit back or something,” my older brother, Reed, moaned, complaining, “you’re making the car shake.”

I sighed. “So?”

“It’s already pretty claustrophobic in here already, I don’t need you throwing yourself around and knocking stuff down.”

Clipping myself in, I gave my brother a funny look. Why was he acting like this, Reed had always loved Vienna. “Whatever, Reed.”

“Cut it out you two, we’re here,” my mom announced. “The movers won’t be here until tomorrow morning, so for now you two are just going to have to unpack what you have.” Reed groaned but said nothing as my father loaded him up with boxes.

“Is it open?” I asked, my arms trembling a bit from my own box.

“I think so,” my father said, “but I’m not sure. Why don’t you give it a turn and see? If not just wait a moment.”

I don’t think I could wait another moment more, I thought to myself. We had been away for six years now and he expected me to wait? Resting the box against my hip, I cradled the knob and turned. Thank God, it opened with ease.

Years ago, our parents had owned a small cottage right along the pier that I had grown up in. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a kitchen made it extremely close quarters, but it was something our family had learned to love.

“Oh my God,” Reed sucked in a breath, his eyes close to bugging out his head. “They just get bigger and bigger, don’t they?”

He had a point, I admitted to myself. Ever since my parents went global on their studies they seemed to be getting more money than they could invest. Therefore, the bigger houses. But this one…I don’t know why I didn’t notice the size before. It was a white, three story villa with all these winding balconies and large columns that supported the porch. Was this really ours?

I looked at my brother one more time. “Come on,” he said, holding the door open for me to slide through, “let’s not let the air out.”

“Where do we start?” I asked, completely dazed at the sight.

“I don’t know. I guess we should just find our rooms…and go from there.” He suggested. “Unless—”

I shook my head. “No, that works. I bet the bedrooms are upstairs,” I told him, making the trek up the large stair case.

Our downstairs looked like one of those houses from “Million Dollar Mansions” with the large living room—complemented with a stone fireplace, like we needed that—and a gourmet kitchen. Not to mention all the other little, and expensive, stuff I hadn’t bothered myself to look at yet. I was afraid if I took too much in I might explode.

“Okay, this one’s mine!” Reed called, shutting the door.

“Alright, I don’t care,” I said. “I’m sure I can find something else.”

Going the opposite direction as my brother had, I took to the room at the very end of the hall. I wasn’t looking for anything big or fancy. I just wanted a room that felt like home.

And this one was defiantly it.

The first thing my eyes took to was the view. I had a floor-length wall of windows, all looking out at Vienna Beach. I didn’t realize until now that we were practically on top of the beach. It was perfect.

“Did you find one you like, sweetie?” my mother asked, appearing at the doorframe.

I smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

“Your father and I knew you would want this room.” says my mother, a small smile taped upon her face. “We also knew you’d want to paint the walls, we’re going into town tomorrow if you want to come and pick out colors.”

“Okay, that works.” I said, grateful to get rid of the washed out yellow.

Mother and I could hear the car horn honk one, two, three times. “I bet that’s your father, I better go and see what the dilemma is, goodnight, sweetheart,” she said, kissing my cheek before leaving the room.

Then it was just me and the ocean view.
__________

The water looked clear, deep, and inviting. After spending all morning helping the movers place the furniture and most of the afternoon placing my room together, I was more than ready to hit the salty water. It was like it was calling to me.

Holding my long board in my hand, I waded out waist deep before sliding onto the board and paddling out to sea. There I waited for the perfect wave to take me back ashore. Besides the rolling waves and the occasional call of a lost seagull, it was quiet. This was the perfect place to think.

I rode waves back and forth from the shore to home until sunset. Once the sun was down I never really felt comfortable in the water—it just wasn’t safe.

“How were the waves, Bay?” my mother asked, her back to me, slicing something in quick cuts. Uh oh, I had walked into the kitchen during her dinner frenzy.

“They were amazing,” I gushed, “it was almost like I was gliding right over the waves.”

I could almost feel her smiling. “Better than Venice Beach? I seem to remember that you had quite a time there, too.”

“I did, but there are no waves like Vienna’s.”

“I know the feeling,” mother admitted. “This place is magical, almost anything can happen. Some even say this is the place of finding.”

I could feel my eyebrows knit together with confusion. “Findings? What do you mean?”

“Vienna will help you find yourself: who you want to be, what you want to do…that other part of you,” she explained. I still had no idea what she was talking about, especially that “other part of you” thing.

“Oh,” I gasped like I understood, “I see.”

“Why don’t you go on and clean up, dinner will be ready shortly,” she suggested, pointing me out with her little wooden spoon.

I laughed. “Okay, mom, just don’t poke an eye out with that thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says and continues to dice and stir.

Leaving her to that, I drag myself into the bathroom, showered quickly, and slipped into my Paul Frank pajama shorts. They were well worn with their raggedy ends and prickly fabric, defiantly past their days, but I couldn’t stand to part with them. Just like my brothers wakeboard or my parent’s lab sets—they were a part of me. Crazy as it sounds, I know, I mean, after all, they are just a pair of shorts.

While my mother continued to cook it up in the kitchen, I spent my time fussing over all the little things in my room, because truthfully, I’m basically OCD when it comes to my bedroom. I couldn’t stand crooked picture frames or laundry on the floor—even if it is mine.

“Dinner!” my mother calls, just as I finish rearranging the pillows on my bed. “Come to the dining room table.”

“Coming!” we both yell as we make a mad dash down the stairs. Ever since I could remember, Reed and I had always had this crazy competition getting to the table for dinner. The loser got to do the dishes for the night.

“Reed got it this time, honey,” my father told me, handing me the dish towel for later.

“Ha, you’re on dish duty,” Reed sneered. Normally I would have some sort of insult at the ready, but I knew he was joking. I do the same exact thing when I win, because, in this family, no one likes to lose.

I just shrugged. Dishes were dishes. “Whatever, can you just help me set the table?”
Reed started to back away until dad thrusted a handful of silverware and a stack of plates at him. “Help her.”

“Yes, sir,” Reed sighed, leaving to go find mom in the dining room.

Dinner was quiet. Good, but quiet. Reed kept tapping his foot; obvious to everyone he just wanted to be anywhere but here. I guess I was sending mixed messages. I loved being back but not here. Not at the dining table when I could be out on the beach. The feeling was like an uncontrollable itch.

“Can I be excused?” I asked.

Reed pushed his plate back. “Yeah, same.”

My mother sighed. “Yes, just make sure you put your plate in the—”

“In the sink, we know, mother.” Reed finished for her, sliding out and making his way into the kitchen, me in close tow.

“Don’t you think you’re going a little rough on mom, Reed?” I whispered making sure my parents couldn’t hear us.

“No, why?”

I rubbed my face and said, “I don’t know, Reed, you’ve just had this shitty attitude ever since we got here and it’s totally bringing everyone down.”

Reed’s face twisted into shock. “Don’t tell me you’re super excited to be here! How can you sit around with that stupid smile on your face actually happy to be back?”

“Easy, because I am.” I reminded him.

“You can’t honestly look me in the eyes and tell me to my face that you’re one-hundred percent ecstatic to be back”—I opened my mouth to object but he held his hand up, shushing me—“save it, Bay, how can you not forget what happened years ago? What they did to you!”

I pulled his hand away. “People change. I have.”

“Yeah, they do. Some for better, some for worst—remember that.” Reed warned his voiced going deep and mysterious.

I just snorted. “Okay who are you and what did you do to my big brother?”

He just shrugged. “Hey, I’m only trying to protect you.”

Him having the last word, he strolled out, leaving me to wash the dishes.
…