Emily’s grandparents were eager to have a day out with her, a chance for just the three of them to bond. After a light breakfast, Emily set off with Ken, Joan, and a very enthusiastic Banjo to explore Port Jefferson.

  Their first stop was Sarah and Jack’s old school. Grandma Joan, brimming with nostalgia, surprised Emily with stories about her mother’s unusual teenage hobby—playing the drums. “It wasn’t common back then for girls to take up such a loud instrument, but your mom was all in,” Joan said with a laugh. Ken added, his eyes twinkling, “Our house wasn’t exactly popular with the neighbors when she practiced! They went at it for hours.”

  Trying to picture her typically composed mother as a teenager, fiercely drumming away in grungy attire, made Emily smile. Even Mom was a kid once, she thought, the image adding depth to her understanding of her mother. “Drummers… the quiet ones are always the most interesting,” a voice within her murmured with amusement, prompting Emily to ask, “Was Mom a bit… of a troublemaker?”

  “How did you guess?” Joan exclaimed, amused by Emily’s question. “Oh, she was a handful,” Ken confirmed with a chuckle. “She and Jack had no shortage of creative pranks. I’m pretty sure your mom was the mastermind.”

  They launched into stories of Sarah and Jack’s mischief, particularly one night when they’d sneaked into the school after hours to rig the science classroom with elaborate pranks. Their mission had been to surprise the teacher and classmates the next day, but it unraveled quickly when security caught them in the act—leading to what must have seemed at the time as “an eternal grounding.”

  “Told ya…” the voice within murmured, “Guitar players get the attention, but it’s the drummers you need to watch for.”

  Emily, however, was lost in thought. She pictured the school corridors at night, her mother and uncle sneaking around as spirited teenagers. She imagined them growing up, graduating, and evolving into the adults she knew now. A thought struck her: how much of those playful, impulsive kids remained in her mother and uncle today? Did certain traits fade, only to reappear in quiet moments, or was there a core that stayed with them through the years?

  “Those traits never completely fade,” the voice whispered, almost as if it was musing along with her. “They evolve, they can be suppressed, or they can come out in unexpected ways. You grow, you change, dreams are born, but life can take you in directions you don’t expect,” it added, a hint of wistfulness woven in. “Sometimes…you lose yourself, often due to circumstances beyond your control.”

  This reflection brought Emily to a deeper realization: life isn’t entirely linear but a series of interwoven cycles and stages, each one uniquely shaping who we become—often in ways that can’t be predicted.

  —

  As they continued their walk down memory lane, both literally and figuratively, Grandpa Ken gestured towards a spacious, now empty parking lot. 'That's where Sarah and Jack learned to drive,' he said with a chuckle, reminiscing about their initial clumsy attempts behind the wheel. 'Back then, it was all manual transmission cars, and let’s just say they ..struggled

  Caught up in the excitement of the conversation momentarily forgetting her youthful age, Emily dropped her guard and remarked, “Oh no….I hope they didn’t grind the gears too much or overheat the clutch? Or did they just get stuck in neutral…”

  Ken paused, his eyebrows raised in amused surprise before he burst into laughter. “Well, well, my granddaughter really knows her way around cars! You know, you don’t hear a kid say things like this every day …that's definitely a trait you picked up from me!” he exclaimed proudly, grinning from ear to ear. Emily merely shrugged, looking like a proud tabby that had just caught a mouse - enjoying her grandparents’ approval.

  The family then made their way to downtown Port Jefferson. Once a thriving hub, Port Jefferson had over time transformed into a seaside retreat. Commercial travel had disappeared completely and now leisure craft bobbed where cargo ships had once been, with the occasional trawler still hauling a catch.

  Watching the port bustling with life and lined with boats and yachts, Emily was captivated and instinctively closed her eyes and lifted her arms. In this moment, Emily absorbed every sensation—the chill of the breeze washing over her, the scent of salt, the distant cries of seagulls—wishing to imprint the essence of the ocean into every atom of her being.

  It was only when she felt a sudden tug at the bottom of her jeans that the trance was broken. Emily looked down and instinctively smiled at Banjo, who was playfully grabbing her garment, his eyes shining and tail wagging enthusiastically.

  Continuing the journey, Emily was delighted when they stopped at a local ice cream store. “I know you're from the Dairy State, Emily, but this might still be one of the best ice cream shops you'll ever visit! Would you like some?” Joan asked gently and somewhat knowingly. Emily did not require much convincing and dashed into the shop with an eager squeal. Moments later, she found herself triumphantly devouring a chocolate hot fudge sundae sprinkled with bits of chocolate dipped waffle cones. The grandparents shared a cup of coffee - seemingly savoring the time they were spending with their granddaughter far more than the coffee.

  Banjo wasn’t left out either, happily lapping at a cup of whipped cream. “The Pup-cup made it to this universe too did it?” her inner voice whispered - tinged with curiosity and familiarity - although Emily was far too engrossed in her ice-cream to pay much attention.

  —

  As was prone to the area - heavy rain began to pour quite suddenly, stranding the family in the ice cream shop. The conversation turned towards her grandparents’ lives. Ken recounted how he met Joan; he was an accountant at a local factory, and she was a secretary. Their paths crossed and sparked a love that deeply rooted them to Port Jefferson—a place they vowed never to leave. Ken opened up about the challenges he faced, including having to reinvent himself mid-career after the factory he worked at closed down and job opportunities were difficult to find. “I made it only because of your grandma and our friends and family” he remarked, his eyes twinkling at a blushing Joan.

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  Listening intently, Emily realized that she didn’t feel alone —another part of her was absorbing her grandparents’ words attentively, reflecting on a journey of its own. A soft, mournful thought drifted through her mind: “I was alone by the end,” the voice murmured to itself. “I was an idiot—I equated my identity with my career and felt…trapped.” The voice seemed almost to be speaking to itself, lost in its own reflections. “Maybe there was support I overlooked? Chances to lean on others that I missed? I don’t know...the pain warped everything.”

  Emily, swept up in both her grandparents’ story and this quiet confession, instinctively thought back, “It’s not just about resilience; it’s about recognizing and accepting support, dummy…” Her words stirred a response—a light pulse within her, almost like laughter or gratitude shared between two souls. She paused momentarily - feeling that a monumental event had just taken place then shook her head “I really need to stop talking to myself…” she grumbled.

  "The conversation transitioned to a lighter note, and Ken expressed his initial reservations about Thomas when he first met Sarah's future husband.

  “Thomas was a bit goofy and seemed uncomfortable back then,” he admitted with a laugh. Joan gently chided him, remarking, “Oh, Ken, no one would have ever been good enough for your daughter in your eyes—you just had to get over it!”

  Ken nodded, a hint of reflection crossing his face. “True, but in the end, it was Thomas who risked everything to be with her. You know, I only wish his own parents had been as open to their relationship as we were. He gave up so much, and not once did he look back.”

  Emily's curiosity stirred as she listened. She began piecing things together—her father’s quiet reserve upon their arrival, the contemplative, almost longing way he looked at Ken and Joan. A gentle pulse within her, carrying a feeling of both understanding and caution, whispered, “Some things take time to understand. This isn’t the moment to ask more.”

  Emily frowned, tempted to inquire further, but as she opened her mouth to ask, that voice deep in the recesses of her mind cautioned her again: “Let it go…he’s estranged. I know that look.” A wave of sadness passed through her—not her own, but someone else’s, tinged with a grief and regret that felt inexplicably old. “We’ll explore this someday, but not here, not today,” the voice murmured softly as it faded, as did the grief and heaviness.

  Swallowing her questions, Emily shifted her focus back to her grandparents, absorbing the warmth in Ken’s tone as he continued. “Sarah and Thomas together was something no one could have stopped—she’s always been fiercely independent, and he…” he trailed off, shaking his head in admiration. “He didn’t care about the sacrifices, as long as he was with her.”

  The couple then shared their mixed emotions about their children moving away, understanding the reasons but feeling their absence deeply. "But then Emily came along, and oh, how thrilled we were!" Ken concluded, his face lighting up at the memory as he gently pinched her cheek. Emily giggled and playfully swatted at Ken’s hand, fully embracing the moment. "Grandpa!" she exclaimed with mock indignation, her laughter filling the café and wrapping her in a blanket of familial love and belonging.

  –

  Upon returning home, Emily was greeted by the rich aroma of Italian cooking. "Is that Roberto’s Pasta I smell?" Joan asked with a knowing smile.

  "You know it, Mom," Sarah responded, laughing. "We couldn’t come all the way here and not have some good East Coast Italian food!”

  Thomas winked, adding, "Exactly! It’s tradition."

  Emily, still quite full from her ice cream adventure, wrinkled her nose playfully. "More carbs, Dad?" she asked with a hint of concern, causing laughter to fill the kitchen.

  Dinner was a pleasant, uneventful affair filled with laughter, and cherished memories. Later that evening, Emily found herself engrossed in a game of Uno with her family. They were playing a particularly intense round, with rules allowing stacking. Just as she was about to win, her grandfather played a card that forced her to draw sixty-four cards.

  "No no NO- SON OF A BISCUIT YOU’VE GOT TO BE FU….DGING KIDDING ME!" Emily exclaimed in frustration, self-censoring as the near-expletive left her lips. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she stared at the room, realizing what she had (almost) said. “Couldn’t have said it better myself…” the voice deep in her mind murmured with a feeling of - pride?

  Her family froze - time itself froze as Emily wondered if the sky itself would fall. The room was silent for a moment before everyone simultaneously broke into laughter. Ken’s roaring laugh, Joan’s tears of mirth, and even Sarah and Thomas trying their hardest to present a unified and disapproving parental front - utterly failing as they broke down laughing.

  "Emily!" her mother said, doing her best to compose herself "Language, young lady! Where did you hear that?"

  Emily blushed furiously, mumbling, "I dunno…I heard it somewhere...I didn't mean to say it. Don’t be mad…"

  Her father shook his head, chuckling. "Just be careful with your words, okay, kiddo?"

  Emily nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. She glanced at her grandparents, who were both smiling warmly. Her grandmother winked at her, making her feel a little better about the slip. Later, as Emily was helping to clear the table, she overheard her parents talking in the kitchen. They were trying to keep their voices down, but she could still hear them.

  "Remember when Sarah said something similar when she was about Emily's age?" her grandfather said, laughing softly. "She was so frustrated with that math problem. What did she say? It was far more…colorful..than what Emily said'"

  Sarah laughed with embarrassment, "Yes, I remember that! I guess it runs in the family."

  Emily felt a sense of relief wash over her. “That was close,” she thought, breathing a sigh. “A few curses aren’t the end of the world…” came a familiar, amused voice within her mind. Emily chuckled in silent agreement. It seemed everyone had found her slip-up more amusing than anything else. “Dodged a bullet there,” she shot back in her mind, feeling a surprising comfort in the exchange.

  As she lay in bed that night, Emily reflected on the day’s events, filled with gratitude. She had gained new insights into her family, felt the value of support and forgiveness, and even found herself growing more curious about her own quiet thoughts. For a brief moment, she considered the odd conversations she sometimes seemed to have with herself, wondering if it meant anything more. She shook her head, deciding it was just stray thoughts, maybe her conscience. Instead, she focused on the warmth and lessons of the day, a sense of belonging filling her. With a quiet smile, Emily drifted into sleep, content and at peace.