Summer means ice cream parlors, beach side escapades and freedom. When the sun is out and the weather gets warm, it signals the time of happy thoughts and no responsibilities, and little Amber would come running down the stairs of their house and into the great summer phenomenon.

Amber would run across the house shouting that she would very much like to play outside, Auntie Rose right behind her with her backpack and cap. Auntie Rose would almost always outrun her; and when she does, she would give Amber her things and straighten her clothes, then give her a kiss on the cheek that would make her giggle. "Unto the world, summer child." She would say.

That was ages ago, now that she thought about it. She couldn’t even remember the last time she stood out and just enjoyed the sun beam on her skin. And now she is here – inside a lifeless hunk of metal, on the way to the farthest place that her parents could think of.

The flight to Korea was grueling, with her mother beside her, a constant reminder of why this is even happening. When she wasn't talking on and on, she was giving Amber the silent glare, which in her opinion is a hundred times worse. When Amber has finally had enough if it, she faced her mother, ripping her gaze away from the plane window.

"I'm surprised you're even here. Don't you have some kind of pretentious party to attend to?"

Her mother's lips pursed into a thin line, not saying a word even until the rental car pulled up to take them from Incheon International Airport to the suburbs.

Jeollanam-do turned out to be a stark contrast to home, Amber quickly finds out. Where there were concrete buildings and pavements, there exists acres and acres of lush green lands. The people, like the few houses that they passed through, are clothed with a certain sense of nostalgia that takes her back to when she was twelve, standing in front of the LAX with Auntie Rose.

"Why are you leaving me?" She remembered muttering with her head bowed down, refusing to look at her then nanny. After years of serving the Liu household and practically raising Amber, Auntie Rose decided that it was time.

"I'm not, Amber. I'm just moving to another place. I took care of you, remember? But now my mother needs me to take care of her too. And I can't do that here. You do understand that, right, bao bei?"

The tears that Amber tried so hard to keep fell down from her eyes at the end of Auntie Rose's words.

"I'm going to miss you so much Auntie Rose. I'm going to write to you every day." Amber said as she wrapped her lanky arms around her middle. The older woman laughed at that, and placed a soft kiss on the top of Amber's head. "I'm going to miss you too, my summer child."

She did write to Auntie Rose, every day for years. But growing up is inevitable, and soon enough, daily mails became weekly, monthly, yearly, until the address that she once knew by heart now resided on the dusty corner of her desk. The last thing she heard, Auntie Rose's mom passed away and she has established herself as a relatively known sweet potato farmer.

She wonders how she is now.

Turns out, she didn't change much. She still had the same hairstyle, the same clothes, and the same smile. Albeit the fine lines here and there, and the inexplicable feeling of her worn out eyes, she was still the happy woman that Amber remembers.

"Amber, you're here!" Auntie Rose shouts from her door way, her arms extended towards Amber. Her face had a beaming smile, so bright that Amber felt the need to squint.

"Look how big you've become." She mumbles in her accented English, intently looking at Amber with her hands at both sides of her face.

"Auntie Rose." Was all Amber could reply, as the woman hugged her close and patted her head.

And there, in the arms of the woman who was a major part of her earlier years, was the warmest she felt in a very, very long time.

--

Beep. The number you have dialed is currently una-

Beep. The number-

Beep. The number you have-

Beep. The number you have dialed is currently unavai