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“What is this place?" Mark asked.
“It's Santa Monica, my hometown, where I grew up,” Hunter replied.
“Wow,” Mark exclaimed, “cool.”
“Dad, can you tell me more about your hometown?" asked the curious son.
"Sure. What do you want to know?" I replied with a smile.
"Well, what was it like when you were growing up?" Mark asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I chuckled, "It was different back then. Not as many people, and not as many buildings. The city was a lot smaller, and everyone knew each other."
"Really? That sounds nice," said the son, leaning in closer.
"It was nice. We had a lot of traditions and celebrations, like the annual harvest festival and the Christmas parade," Hunter said, his eyes glazing over with fond memories.
"Did you have any favorite places to go to?" Mark asked, intrigued.
"Oh, definitely. There was a little corner store where I used to buy candy and soda, and a park where we played baseball and had picnics with our families," Hunter replied, a smile forming on his lips.
“Your dad never scored a single goal,” Steve said.
“I’ll not grace that with a comment,” I replied, looking out of the window. The city had changed as surely as I had.
"I wish I could've seen it back then," Mark said wistfully.
"Well, maybe we can go visit some of those places together someday," I said, looking around at my son. "But for now, we have our own adventures to create in this city."
Mark beamed with excitement, eager to explore just like Hunter was at that age. The city had been his playground then.
As Steve pulled up in front of the house I had inherited, I couldn't believe how big it was. It was a sprawling mansion on the beachfront, with a huge yard and a pool. I had never lived in any place like it before. The view of the water was almost awe-inspiring.
“I had the house cleaned out for you,” Steve said, pushing his door open and stepping out of the parked car.
“Damn, this place is huge, can’t seem to get used to it,” Steve said, looking around.
I was still quiet as I ran my eyes over the building. Struck all over again by the grandeur of the mansion.
"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" Steve said.
I nodded, still unable to tear my eyes away from the mansion.
"I can't believe it," he said, his voice full of wonder. "I've never seen anything like it."
Once inside, I looked around, taking it all in. The house was massive, with soaring ceilings and stunning ocean views from every window. It was the perfect place for him and his son to start their new life together.
As I walked around the house; it was empty and silent, and I suddenly felt a pang of loneliness. I missed Sarah. She would’ve loved this place. She would have made this place into a home in no time.
"Dad, look at this house! It's so pretty and big! I love it here!" exclaimed Mark behind me.
"I'm glad you like it, son," I replied with a smile.
I felt a sense of relief, I had been worried about Mark’s reaction to being uprooted from home and friends in New York but so far, he seemed to love everything.
As I settled into my new home, I felt a sense of excitement and possibility. I knew I had been given a second chance, and I was determined to make the most of it. I looked forward to the future, to watching my son grow up, and to reconnect with my old friends and family.
I took Mark’s hand and walked around our new house, cheerless. Thoughts of Sarah somehow always made me listless. I could hear the waves crashing against the shore, a sound that I had missed dearly in the hustle and bustle of New York City.
