The Summer Song: A Perfect Beach Romance

The Summer Song Excerpt

They always say you can’t go home again, but let me add to that advice. If you do return home to live with your stoic, lawyer father and meddling mother, make sure you’re not thirty with a bankrupt business and a failed romance.
These were the TED Talk-like thoughts running through my mind as I hunched over boxes in the mildewy basement of Tino’s Italian restaurant, thankful there wasn’t a mirror for me to peruse the assuredly disastrous state of my hair. I rolled my eyes at my senseless inner monologue as the wind howled outside, threatening to send the ancient boardwalk restaurant crumbling.
“Let’s face it,” I said aloud, admittedly like someone who was one incident shy from a complete meltdown. “No one’s calling your disastrous self for a TED Talk anytime soon.”
My shirt covered in food and my mood as low as it gets from what happened before retreating to the basement, I moved box after box, looking for the mysterious serving dish. Plumes of dust and probably death-inducing mold wafted into the air, but I was a bit thankful for the escape. The Italian music blasted up above, and there were footsteps dashing about as the dinner rush was on. My own feet ached from waitressing all night–and not well if I was to be honest. Still, it felt good to have a moment away from the hustle and bustle of Tino’s, of spilled drinks, and of the constant reminder that everything had fallen apart. 

And just as I had told myself life couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did.
Because as I stepped backward, I lost my balance. The bare bulb shined brightly, now illuminating what I imagined was a horrific face as I tumbled down the stairs, the box and heavy silver platters clanging on top of me. I crumpled down, down, down, thinking this was where it all ended—on the dingy steps of Tino’s basement. Maybe they could use the silver platters at my funeral.
When I finally landed at the bottom of the stairs, time warping back to normal speed, everything was fuzzy and fading. My entire body hurt, and I felt myself slipping away. But before it all went black, I heard what I thought was a distinctively British voice yell out a punctuated and startled, “Oh no.”
Oh no, indeed, I mused as everything turned inky.

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