Aster Thorne peered out the window of her grandmother's Volvo wagon as they cruised along the streets of Holmes Chapel. The sky was overcast and the streets were all wet, but Aster thought it was beautiful here. She had never been to England, and the old architecture was like a breath of fresh air. The lights inside of the shops emitted a warm yellow glow, making her feel cozy inside.
"Everything is so charming compared to home," Aster commented as they passed by Brown's Book Tavern, which she made a mental note to visit later.
Her grandmother, Iris, laughed. "I just hope you still think so in a few weeks."
The comment didn't instill much hope in Aster. She was trying to be positive, but what would she do this summer? After the novelty of being surrounded by rich history had worn off, after she'd seen all the cool buildings, what was left? Drinking hot tea and embroidering a cushion?
The car had just turned onto Brookfield Drive.
"Ah, here we are," said Grandma Iris as they pulled in the driveway. Aster eyed the red brick cottage that was to be her home for the summer.
"See the window at the top?" asked Grandma Iris. "That's your room."
Aster climbed the steep stairs to the top floor. The bedroom was very plain, but it was spacious, and the window let in a lot of light. She set her bags down and collapsed onto the bed. The time change and the dreary weather had her all out of sorts. Her mind wandered back to the U.S...
In Georgia it was probably sunny and perfect for reading a magazine by the pool. By the end of this week, Aster could've achieved a nice tan. Funny how a long airplane ride could transport her back into winter. She sighed, and a gloomy mood set in. It wasn't fair.
It had been a year since Aster's grandfather passed away, and her parents thought Grandma Iris could use some company, so they'd shipped Aster off to Cheshire for two and a half months. When it was first mentioned, Aster was angry. It's not that she didn't like her Grandma Iris, but she didn't know her very well. Growing up across an ocean from her grandparents meant she could count on two hands how many times she'd seen them. Plus, she was sixteen and had just gotten her driver's license. This summer was going to be her first taste of sweet freedom. It was going to be a long and hot one in Georgia, and Aster was looking forward to floating on an inner tube in the lake, sipping sweat tea, and rocking away on the front porch while the fireflies danced in the yard. The fourth of July would come, and there'd be barbecue and fireworks. And then maybe, when the sun went down, her crush Austin Martin would kiss her on a picnic blanket beneath the stars. Now that would make a perfect summer. But it wouldn't come true.
Glancing around at the empty walls, some pictures on a shelf above the desk caught Aster's eye. She got up to look at them. There were many: pictures of her as a young girl, pictures of her parents, and pictures of Grandpa Bill. Aster picked up the black and white one of him and Grandma Iris when they were young. They were sitting at a pub somewhere, but their arms were around one another and their foreheads were pressed together with smiles on their faces. Grandpa was handsome. Grandma was gorgeous. And love looked good on them.
Aster felt a smile cross her face. She thought again of the circumstance that brought her here. She was being very selfish. She suddenly noticed how quiet it was. And lonely. No, Grandma Iris did not need to be alone like this.
"It's going to be a good summer," she said aloud to herself. That's it. Positive Affirmation. If she said it enough times, she would start believing it, right?
And again. "It's going to be a good summer... a GREAT summer.. or winter, whichever season England thinks it is. It'll be good."
Then Grandma Iris yelled up, "Tea's ready, my love!"
Aster set the picture back on the shelf. "Coming!" she called back.