Etta Marie goes on vacation

"If you vacation long enough, you don't get the urge to sell your things and relocate," Etta said.

"You might be right. But, have you thought about how you can tie up all your business here for three months?" said Jackie.

They morning light was ambient and golden, and a thick mist covered most of the rooftops. They sipped their coffee from their sixteenth floor perch. Etta Marie nodded and pointed to her trusty laptop. Jackie threw up an eyebrow and took another long sip.

"It's that easy?"

"Well, I have to pawn off my dog walking, but yes, technology is my friend," Etta muttered. "I'm set on going underground, but not off the grid."

"A contradiction of terms!" said Jackie, pounding the arm of her chair.

"Maybe."

"Well, I'm visiting you and you can't stop me. You can't deny me the beach. I am a born sun worshiper."

"You gotta serve somebody! Of course, you can come see me. I don't feel used at all."

"Stop it," Jackie hissed in play.

"Two weeks without friends, and I'll probably crawl out of my skin. You know me. I'll plan beach parties. No worries, Jackie."

"Glad to hear it."

Etta Marie glanced at her jar of stones. There were only 11 left. Time was running out, and it felt like hourglass sands falling into the growing pit in her stomach. She still missed her father. He always smelled of sea winds. His shaggy beard filled with saltiness would brush hard kisses on her cheeks after each afternoon of fishing. he would place a few shells into her hand and his face would wrinkle into laughter and good favor. All those years, and still the pang of grief felt like the throb of a toothache in her middle when she thought of him.

"Hello?"

"What?" said Etta stirring to life.

"You glazed over."

"I think I went on vacation already!"