Old Enough To Choose

Written for the "Kev's Odyssey" series.

Jennifer, whose early attempts at speech had left her forever called “Jelly” by her loved ones, was twelve years old and meeting her other grandparents for the first time. She was excited, of course she was. She didn’t remember ever going to the beach before, and now they’d be spending a whole fortnight on an island.
Well, it was only an island some of the time? Daddy made a big deal about following a schedule to “arrive when the land bridge is still open”. But a part-time island was still an exciting, exotic place to go for summer vacation.
“Nearly there, Jell.” Daddy said, in the “being brave” voice that meant he was thinking about Mummy. Jen mustered a cheery grin in return.
Not that he was looking at her. He never took his eyes off the road while the car was moving. While he’d always been a careful driver, since…
It hadn’t been the driver’s fault. Everyone said so. It had been a ‘no fault’ accident. And the old lady had been very, very sorry, and even come to mummy’s funeral to apologise and mourn. But Jen knew that Daddy was determined to NEVER do to anyone else’s mummy what had happened to hers.
Neither of them spoke until the car was safely parked. As they started down the stone steps to the beach Dad said “I wish… well, I always wish she was still with us. But if we had to lose her… I wish we’d managed to do this sooner. It… it would’ve meant the world to her, being here with you. Here for you, for this.”
Jen slipped a hand into his and squeezed tight.
The beach was bare and empty, probably because night was falling. The small fire on the decking was a beacon guiding them to her waiting grandparents.
“Oh goodness!” The elderly couple gushed over her, the usual comments about how she’d grown and how much she looked like her mother.
Jen smiled and hugged them both and noted that they also looked like Mummy - just wrinklier and browner. Mummy rarely got enough sun to go brown, only managing it at the end of the summer.
“Jelly, these are your Nana and Grampy Seaver. Marnie, Dylan, it’s great to see you again.”
“And you! Was the journey alright?” As everyone sat, Nana Marnie immediately pulled Daddy into a grown-up conversation about traffic and packing and the B&B he’d booked.
Grampy Dylan smiled at Jen, his crinkling moustache reminding her of a walrus, and leant forward to ask “So. Are you a Jen or a Jelly?”
“I’m Jen at school and Jelly at home.”
“Ah. Well, we’re not at school or at home, so what would you like me to call you?”
Jen tilted her head and thought about this. Watching the flames dance in the little steel fire pit. “You feel like home, so… call me Jelly. Like Mummy did.”
That made the old man’s whole face crinkle in a smile - though his eyes held a gentle sadness that matched the one she carried in her heart. “Alright, Jelly. I’m glad you feel at home already. I hope we have a wonderful time.”
Jen nodded, then wondered “Why did you ask? Nobody else does.”
“Ah. Well, my family knows very well the importance of letting children choose these things. Nobody else gets to tell you who you are. And we think you’re old enough to start making these choices.”
Jen grinned. She’d been right; he was definitely a ‘Jelly’ person.
“So. Jelly. Do you like swimming?”
“I love it!” Jelly crowed, then with scrupulous honesty admitted “But I’m not good at it.”
Grampy nodded, as if he’d expected this. Mummy must have said. Or Daddy, before coming. It made sense they’d checked, with the ocean all around. “Does it feel like being in the water is wonderful, but your body isn’t moving the way you want it to?”
Jen sat bolt upright. “Yes!!”
That was it. Exactly it. Whenever she tried to swim, she couldn’t get her body to move quite right. And when she tried following the instructions for proper swimming it just felt… wrong.
“I was the same way. So was your mother. It runs in the family.” Grampy picked up a carved wooden box and offered it to Jen. “Here. This is a present. I’m curious if it will fit.”
Jen accepted the box and carefully balanced it on her knees, peeling back the old worn lid to peep inside. It was a soft brown cloth. No, not cloth - it was like… leather? But not. And the smell…
Musty. Briny. But, under that… it smelled of Mummy.
Jen looked up and found all the adults watching her closely. Not as if they were worried she might do something wrong, but with the same anxious focus that Mummy and Daddy always had when she got up on stage for her violin recitals.
“Here,” Daddy said, “let me hold the box for you. You’ll need to stand up to try it on. I mean, if you want to try it on?”
“Yeah.” Jen nodded decisively. While she wasn’t sure what this was, it called to her.
So Daddy took the box, and Jen took the not-leather, which unfolded into a shape sort of like a person. More like a blanket than a garment.
Was it a shawl? Jen didn’t know much about shawls other than they weren’t blankets.
She draped it around herself without thinking, the skin finding its place with instinctive ease. This part cradled her head, this part followed her back, her hands went here…
Standing up like this was awkward, so she settled onto her belly.
She peered up at the adults and laughed, a series of joyous barks that set them all beaming.
Grampy reached into his backpack and pulled out another leathery wrap. “Come on, Jelly. Let’s go for a swim. I dare say this time you’ll take to it like a seal to water.”

Prompt was “Gift”.