Ocean Beach really hadn’t changed much, at least not to Summer’s eyes. It still had a bohemian feel to it with its complex mix of poor college students, wanderlust-stricken surfers, and derelicts living on the streets, as well as a whole new socio-group: the young, wealthy urbanites.

The sand was still hot, the water a frothy blue as it pounded the shore. The air smelled like salt and fast food. Once upon a time, this had been home, but now Summer felt like one of the tourists she’d always resented.

After she’d left all those years ago, her mother had dealt with her grief by selling their house a few blocks inland and buying a tiny condo downtown. She’d filled it with her handpicked collectibles, healing supplies, and homemade teas, but to Summer the place seemed too far from the water, too small and closed in, and after the first awkward, sleepless night, she’d made an excuse about needing to be on the beach and had gone to one of her Aunt Tina’s properties, a small cottage on the bluffs overlooking the ocean.

The decision seemed to disturb Camille, and Summer had spent the past few days trying to make up for it. They’d gone to breakfast each day, where Summer had tried to draw her mom out, but all efforts had hit a solid brick wall. Summer could just leave it alone as she tended to do with all things awkward and uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to. Damn it, she was here, she wanted to fit in, wanted to be a part of the family. Wanted to be close again.

On the fourth morning, Summer once again got into her VW Bug and took I-5 toward the bay to meet her mom. Shaped like a hook and protected by the peninsula of Coronado, the San Diego Bay formed a natural deepwater harbor around which the second largest city in California had grown. Summer headed directly into the heart of it, into the famous Gaslamp Quarter, once notorious for its nefarious activities such as prostitution, gambling, and drinking. Years ago the entire area had been given a welcomed revival. Historical buildings had all been renovated in grand Victorian style, carved into the original architecture, leaving a wealth of hotels, shops, galleries, and trendy clubs and restaurants, all illuminated by the prominent, graceful gas lamps lining the pavements.

Determined, Summer pulled into one such Victorian, where Creative Interiors was housed, and parked in the lot behind it.