The bustling energy of LaGuardia Airport in New York surrounded Emily as she stepped off the plane, her parents close behind. She clutched her small backpack, apprehension bubbling within her. Her initial excitement about the flight and traveling to a new place had morphed into nervousness as they neared their destination.

  Emily had seen pictures of her grandparents in old family albums, she had vague memories of meeting them in years past but they felt faded. The prospect of meeting them again in person felt surreal. She took a deep breath, murmuring to herself, "It’s okay…it’s okay…what’s the big deal, right?" as if speaking to calm something deeper than her own nerves.

  A pulse seemed to emanate deep within her—akin to laughter—and she felt a voice softly whisper, "At least LaGuardia isn't a dump here..." causing Emily to almost snort with laughter, although she was momentarily confused about where that thought had originated.

  As they approached the baggage claim area, Emily scanned the crowd, her heart racing. Suddenly, she spotted an older couple waving enthusiastically. Her grandparents, Ken and Joan, stood out with their warm smiles and familiar faces, just like in the photos.

  "There they are!" Sarah exclaimed, waving back. "Emily, there are your grandparents! Hey, Mom! Dad—over here!"

  Emily felt a whirlwind of emotions as they walked closer. She didn't truly know them—in some ways, she was meeting strangers—but there was an inexplicable bond, however small, that she felt right away. Her apprehension didn't vanish entirely; instead, it mingled with curiosity and a hesitant excitement.

  Ken, a tall man with a kind, smiling face, stepped forward first, hands open. "Emily! Come here kiddo!" he said, his voice filled with genuine joy. In one swift motion, he picked up Emily in his arms, giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the head. Joan, with her silver hair and twinkling eyes, embraced Emily next. "We've been looking forward to this day for so long," she said softly, holding Emily close. "Welcome to New York, sweetheart."

  Emily was initially stunned—her body instinctively tensed at the suddenness of being lifted, feet dangling a few inches off the ground. Her mind reacted with a quick flash of alertness, as though registering her vulnerability. Yet just as quickly, that feeling softened. Somewhere deep within, a part of her seemed both amused and—she realized after a beat—grateful for this display of affection.

  As she looked at her grandparents, a mixture of hesitation and curiosity in her eyes, she saw the genuine affection radiating from their faces. A burst of familiarity and comfort washed over her, almost like a memory of being embraced this warmly before. For a brief moment, she forgot her anxieties, her questions, the knowledge she suddenly possessed and the secrets she was still trying to understand—she was simply Emily, a kid surrounded by love. Instinctively, she offered them a small smile and a shy "hi." Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the attention, she hesitated, then buried her head into her grandfather’s shirt, eliciting more "awws" and coos from her obviously thrilled grandparents.

  Sarah, feigning jealousy, spread her arms wide, pseudo stomped her feet, and with an emphatic cough pronounced “Um, hey Mom and Dad! Your daughter is happy to see you too! She would really appreciate a hug!” This elicited another round of affection and greetings, this time directed towards Sarah. Thomas received a cordial, warm, albeit less effusive, greeting which he seemed quite at ease with.

  —

  As the family drove in their minivan towards Port Jefferson, a quaint village nestled by the ocean on Long Island, Emily found herself captivated by the new surroundings - dramatically different from her experience in Madison. The roads were windier, the landscape hillier, and the trees older and taller than those back at home. Even the town names, often spelled with an old English or Italian flair, served as subtle reminders that she was in a different part of the country.

  Throughout the drive, Sarah chatted animatedly with Ken and Joan, her excitement palpable as she eagerly recounted the minutiae of their lives. Emily watched her mother revert to a child-like demeanor, her dialect and even accent morphed into a more ‘Long Island’ variant. This glimpse into her mother's past brought a smile to Emily's face as she realized that even her ‘all knowing’ mom had an inner child. Perhaps everyone did?

  Thomas, usually the more outgoing lively one, was quieter on this trip, contributing only occasional, polite comments as Sarah animatedly shared family stories. Emily observed his behavior with some curiosity, sensing an atypical distance in his gaze as he looked out the window or towards her grandparents.

  He didn’t seem unfriendly, yet Emily noticed a hint of something unspoken in his expression when he looked at Ken and Joan—something almost wistful, mournful longing. “Maybe Dad feels a bit out of place?” she wondered, deciding to park her questions for now. She promised herself to ask him about it someday, maybe once they were back in Madison.

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  As the minivan veered off the main highway and onto the narrower, winding roads of Port Jefferson, Emily felt each turn sharply. The old roads, with their curves and occasional rather sharp bends were unlike the straight, predictable routes back home. Emily leaned and swayed slightly every time the car took a sharp turn, feeling her body shift much more pointedly in the seat than she would have believed possible.

  The car windows were lowered slightly, the cool ocean breeze to sweep inside. The scent was crips, invigorating —salt mingled with a faint trace of seaweed - nothing like Emily had ever experienced back home. These sensations—the smell of the ocean, the coolness of the wind, and even the typically gentle sways of the road—melded together, grounding Emily in that moment. She felt peaceful - her journey to New York seeming to mirror her own journey over the recent months - from confusion to anxiety to finally anticipation.

  As they finally entered Port Jefferson, Emily felt a sense of wonder. The town was in a word - picturesque, with its quaint streets, charming houses, and a vibrant boating community - almost as if pulled out from a postcard. It was a stark contrast to Madison's planned and repetitive Euclidian layout. The family finally arrived at a small house tucked away into a corner plot - Ken and Joan's home - and as Emily realized taking a breath, the house her mother grew up in.

  The two-story house was built with an older architectural style, reminiscent of the 60s and 70s, eclectic yet warmly inviting. As Emily stepped out of the car and gazed at her grandparents' garden—flowerbeds, a small outdoor fountain, and a covered swinging chair—she immediately felt a sense of safety. A sense of warmth spread through her - the peacefulness of this home resonating with even the more unknown part of her soul buried deep within.

  The peace and tranquility was disrupted by a loud bark. Emily looked up to see a large golden retriever, who came bounding down the driveway. The excited dog affectionately nuzzled and licked any family member within reach, its whining punctuated excited little barks of welcome.

  "This is Banjo," Joan said, introducing the dog. "He's very friendly and loves meeting new people—Banjo, down!" she quickly added as the dog, overcome with excitement at meeting a new, smaller human, accidentally knocked Emily over, showering the little girl with slobber.

  Despite the over-enthusiastic greeting, Emily couldn't help but let out a squeal and break into laughter, a sound filled with the sheer child-like happiness that only a dog can bring. "Hi, Banjo," she said, scratching behind his ears. She felt the familiar wave of peace and warmth spread through her again. ‘Hey, doggo—nice to meet you,’ came a faint thought that made her momentarily giggle, brushing off the peculiar sensation as her attention was quickly diverted to entertaining her new canine friend.

  —

  The next few hours passed in a blur of exploration and quiet wonder. Ken and Joan’s home was filled with memorabilia, family photos, and touches of history. Emily wandered through the rooms, absorbing the details—the older style of architecture so different from her more modern home in Madison, the furniture worn from years of love and play, and the faint scent of teak and old wood permeating the cottage. She realized, with a look of wonder, that this home was a piece of her heritage too— after all, it was a place where her mother and uncle had grown up.

  She paused at a series of framed pictures, her eyes catching on one of a young Sarah. Emily noted the resemblance, tilting her head with a small smile. “Will I look like this as I grow up?” she wondered, pausing at a photograph of a teenage Sarah with a baseball bat, another one of her in a school play, and yet another from her graduation. The photos seemed to capture the speed of life, like snapshots of a journey she herself was just beginning. She felt a gentle awareness of time, a reminder of how quickly milestones could approach.

  “Don’t be in a rush to grow up…” a quiet part of her mind suggested, as if an older voice were gently cautioning her. “Honestly, adulthood is… overrated,” it added with a soft, wry humor. Emily shook her head, both amused and a little puzzled by the thought, brushing it off as she continued exploring.

  In the living room, Sarah and Joan were lost in animated conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the past. Thomas and Ken sat nearby, their discussion turning from the latest sports news to small-town gossip to discussions about Thomas’s practice. From somewhere in the recesses of Emily’s mind, a voice seemed amused at how quickly a glass of whiskey had appeared in Thomas and Ken’s hands—the amusement overflowing into Emily. She chuckled softly and settled onto the couch, content to simply listen and observe, finding an unexpected peace in the buzz of family chatter.

  As dusk settled, Emily helped her father unpack in the guest room, which had apparently once been her mother's childhood bedroom before being converted. The room was a little tight - but cozy and welcoming. Looking around, Emily giggled, "I wonder what kind of trouble Mom and Uncle Jack got into here.” The thought briefly brought back the embarrassment of her own recent time-out, but it also warmed her heart to think about the layers of family life that had unfolded in this very room.

  Lying back on the bed, Emily stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Meeting her grandparents had stirred deeply. She knew this was the first time they had met, perhaps in a long time, but she nevertheless felt an odd flicker of nostalgia in her heart—a faint, inexplicable feeling of cherished moments with grandparents long gone, like echoes of another life. Yet she couldn’t deny what she had seen and felt with Ken and Joan - warmth and affection that felt as natural as the air she breathed. She closed her eyes and challenged the momentary nostalgia, almost convincing this other part of herself that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

  The call for dinner snapped her back to reality as Joan’s voice echoed up the stairs - "Emily! Dinner's ready!" Emily couldn’t chuckle at how eerily similar her own mother sounded when summoning Emily at home.

  “Coming… Grandma!” she called back, the word feeling both new and right. She paused at the top of the stairs, a soft smile playing on her lips. Saying “Grandma” after all these years felt unexpectedly natural, like finding a piece of herself she hadn’t realized was missing. With a silent thank you to the universe for this chance at family and love, she bounded downstairs.