Chapter 6 Rebirth by the Sea
When Granny saw me coming back late at night, she paused for a second, said nothing, and turned straight into the kitchen. “I’ve got some soup simmering, want some cobblers?”
“Yeah,” I replied, leaning against the table in the kitchen, watching Grandma’s bent yet efficient back, feeling a lump rise in my throat.
This was home—the unspoken understanding, the place where no questions were asked, only a bowl of hot soup and homemade peach cobblers waiting for you.
“Granny” I sniffed.
“Come with me tomorrow?”
Granny paused stirring the soup, but didn’t turn around. “Where?”
“The place my mom left us,” I said softly.
That woman, clouded by love, had abandoned me and Granny when I was little, running off with a man who said he’s got a motel by the sea. He promised her sunsets over Pacific cliffs and even somedaythey’d retire in Hawaii.”
The reality? The motel was barely hanging on. The man ran off with the money, maybe he ran to Hawaii himself, leaving her nothing but debt and a broken heart instead, until she faded away, consumed by it all.
That crumbling motel had become a thorn in Granny’s heart, and it had been a constant reminder for me of my mother’s delusional
daydream.
Granny fell silent for a long time, long enough for the soup to start bubbling over.
She turned off the stove and then slowly spoke. “…Alright. Let’s go see the mess that careless girl left behind. Let’s see how bad it really
is.”
A few days later, Granny and I found ourselves standing in front of that dilapidated guesthouse called “Sunlight” by the Sea.
It stood alone on a cliff’s edge, the sea breeze howling with a salty tang, making the old sign creak in protest. The outer walls were worn and weathered, the wooden railing on the deck was rotting and broken, and the yard was overrun with weeds. A few beach chairs with missing arms or legs were haphazardly tossed in a corner, creating a scene of desolation and decay.
This was the final monument of “love” and “commitment.”
Granny looked at the place, her lips pressed tightly together, her silence louder than words as she pushed open the creaky gate.
No words of regret, no complaints.
She dropped the luggage down and rolled up her sleeves, ready to start clearing the weeds in the yard. I joined her, pulling up weeds, sweeping, and fixing the few usable chairs and tables.
The sweat mixed with the sea breeze, sticking to our skin. My body was tired, but my heart felt more peaceful than it had in a long time.
There were no Mason, no Suzanne, no endless work task DDL or emotional drains. Only the sound of the waves crashing against the
rocks and Granny’s occasional chatter.
We were like two hardworking ants, slowly clearing away the ruins left behind by family.
Granny handled repairs, while I focused on figuring out how to make the place at least livable. I contacted workers to repair the roof, replace the decayed wooden planks, and repaint the walls. Money flew out like water, and Granny worried a little about the bills, but she didn’t stop me.
Maybe, in her own way, she was trying to make peace with the past, or maybe she simply wanted to give this “mess” a bit of dignity.
Life became simple among the rhythm of the waves.
We worked during the day, and in the evening, we sat on the little deck we’d cleared, enjoying the sea breeze, eating simple meals, and watching the sunset turn the sea into a sea of gold.
Chapter 6 Rebirth by the Sea
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Gradually, Granny talked more. She would occasionally mention funny stories from my mother’s childhood, her tone free of past. resentment, replaced only with a faint trace of nostalgia and regret.
As I listened, the sting in my heart over “mother” seemed to soften, as if the sea breeze was slowly dissolving it.
Just when I thought life had finally settled into a peaceful rhythm, my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen to see Wendy’s name. After a brief moment of hesitation, I answered.
“Cecilia!” Wendy’s voice was unusually frantic, and she immediately fired off questions. “Where are you? Mason’s in big trouble!”
I stepped to the edge of the deck, and the wind swept into the phone.
“Wendy, I’ve already quit,” I said calmly.
I had made my decision before coming here.
“I know! But that’s not the issue right now!” Wendy’s voice was filled with urgency. “Mason’s social media account–Suzanne was starting handling it recently. Well, she’s made a huge mess!”
“What happened?” I asked instinctively, then immediately felt silly for asking. What did it matter to me?
“She posted to the wrong account! She accidentally used Mason’s official account to post complaints about the catering on set and how demanding the director is! She deleted it immediately, but some fans screenshotted it, and now it’s all over the trending topics!” Wendy’s words were coming out faster and faster. “And that’s not even the worst part!”
“She also liked several posts that dissed other actors from the same drama, and there were even a few posts of the trash talk of the fans! Now, all of it’s been exposed! Fans all over the X are mocking him, saying his team is unprofessional and his image is falling
apart!”
I could almost picture the chaos unfolding in my mind.
Suzanne’s shallow understanding of the job, coupled with her naive approach to managing an actor’s account, had clearly led her to
step on a landmine.
She only saw the surface glamour, unaware that every post, every like, every comment required careful precision and image
management.
“Wendy, this should be your team’s PR crisis to deal with,” I reminded her.
“Yes, we’re handling it!” Wendy said, sounding exhausted and angry. “But the damage is already huge! Netflix is reconsidering his deal! The Cartier campaign is on ice! And they called, their attitude is… well, weird!, Now all the producers are hesitating! Mason’s completely in shock! What’s worse… he just found out you quit!”
Wendy took a deep breath. “He’s gone crazy trying to find you! He tried calling you but couldn’t reach you, then went to your apartment and found it empty. He went to the studio… and saw that all your things were gone! That’s when he lost it! He’s been yelling at me, asking why I didn’t tell him! Cecilia, he’s in really bad shape, locking himself in the studio and throwing things around. No one can calm him down! It seems like he only just realized you’ve really left… and he’s only just realized it when he needs you the most…”
“If he doesn’t cooperate with our PR now, he’ll be doomed.”
Before Wendy could finish, the cracky door of the motel, which had just been reinforced, suddenly slammed open with a loud “bang!”
