My parents’ house was distanced approximately half an hour on foot, just outside of the city center. It was an old house made of stone and wood. Shutters and doors were freshly painted olive green, and as always, there was oleander growing everywhere. Pots were scattered all over the place ‒ on window sills and every single step that led to the porch. The porch was an essentially small overlay of concrete and painted stones ‒ my mother’s work, no doubt.

I could head out and check if my mother is still working in town, but it was already late and I was exhausted from the traveling. Although it wasn’t a long journey, it took only about three hours for the ferry to arrive from Split to Vela Luka port in Korčula, but the rocking of the ship had truly unpleasant consequences on my empty stomach.

There was a fragrant aroma spreading from the windows that were left slightly ajar, smelling of garlic and baked fish. My stomach rumbled loudly when I was unable to remember the last time I had eaten. No doubt father was preparing a dinner, which at least four times a week consisted of fish and boiled potatoes. Boris’s love of fishing was affecting everyone in the house since he always caught way too many. Not that I was complaining, he was an excellent cook and I would devour right about anything at the moment. Actually, I was glad father was home early and not my mother because all she could cook were frozen vegetables and make some horrifically over-seasoned salad.

I let myself in, looking around the house.

“Dad?” I probed even if I already heard music blaring from the kitchen, knowing he will never hear me over this horrendous racket.

“Dad! What on earth is going on here?” As I stepped into the hallway, there was another surprise waiting for me - a huge, furry surprise and it was salivating all over me.

“Barica, no! Where are your manners?” I laughed out loud, hugging the hairy animal, which was trying to knock me down. “Yes, I missed you too, it was lonely without you,” I patted him on the head as a big gray Yugoslavian shepherd tried to give me his paw, probably expecting a treat. “I don’t have anything, I am so sorry boy. Now come, let’s find out what is going on in this house,” Barica followed me loyally like I could vanish every second.

“Dad, what are you...? Dear God!” I burst out laughing, seeing my father vigorously shaking his hips left and right, swinging spatula up in the air. His face was red with the effort, trying to imitate dancers on the television. His apron was so dirty, one would think he was rolling in the food, not cooking.

Boris was so transfixed with the screen, he didn’t even notice when I came in. When the television went blank, his eyes finally snapped to the newcomer. His face became even redder if that was possible and his lips stretched into a heart-warming smile.

“Korina! I thought you were lost to us forever!” He said with a false outraged voice.

“Of course you did. This dancing thing was probably a celebration when authorities announced I was lost to the sea.” I smirked.

His chest was shaking with laughter as he hugged me. I had to carefully maneuver my body from colliding with his enormous frame. To say that his hug almost crushed me, would be a big understatement.

“You know your mother and I missed you Korina. So very much,” he was all serious now.

“I know dad”, my eyes softened as I reached to pat his shoulder. “How are things here? How is the business going?” I inquired him, carefully assessing his reaction.

“Oh well, you know, as always my love,” he smiled, but it never reached his eyes.

“What’s wrong dad? More foreign investors?” I put my arms around Boris’s wide shoulders.

“It’s hard these days, the bastards are buying off everything they can. The store is running, but those greedy squids are opening new ones, with fancy goods and restaurants. Building modern apartments, new hotels.” He said.

“Yes, that’s true. But that also means new customers and more consumerism dad. Tourists are always up for spending some money on souvenirs and art. The sale hasn’t fallen yet, has it?” I looked him straight in the eyes.

“No, not yet. But I am truly worried, daughter. Those rich people have different tastes, living their lavish lives, while we have to break a sweat to earn some money. Working day to day, hoping we will have enough to put on the table. I am afraid necklaces and earrings made of clay can’t compete with golden ones.”

“They certainly do have a different lifestyle than us, dad, but that doesn’t mean they are not willing to spend more. I am back now and I am going to do all in my power to help you guys with the store. You know how many of my paintings we’ve sold last year. This season I am going to do even better. I promise.”

“I know, and I thank God for a daughter like you Korina. You know damn well I am useless at selling things and even worse with figures.” He crossed himself and looked towards the ceiling, “I am a simple man, born and raised on the sea. I wish I could have done more. To contribute more...” He leaned on the counter, his head bent low.

I knew he was beating himself up with those heavy thoughts daily.

“Father don’t stress yourself with this. Like I’ve said, I am here to help you. You and mother already did enough as it is.”

“Enough with the heavy stuff for now. You must be exhausted and ravenous.” He smiled as he tried to cover his unease, but he didn’t fool me. I promised myself, I would work hard over the summer to help to secure my family’s financial position and I already had a few ideas in mind for my new artwork. The island taught me one thing - family came first and I indented to do everything I could.

“Plus, there are always enough of fish,” I said over my shoulder while checking out the rich stock in the fridge.

Father roared with laughter as he momentarily forgotten his worries plaguing his mind. “I hope you are not complaining daughter, because there will be a lot of similar dishes in the future.”

I couldn’t help but return his infectious smile. “I assure you, I will survive.”

“Maybe you will, but I don’t know if I can,” Ivana’s slender frame filled the doorway of the kitchen. She was a vision as always. Her long light hair, with little streaks of gray in them, were braided in a similar fashion as mine. Even after her fifties, my mother was a beautiful woman. It wasn’t hard to believe men were throwing themselves on their knees before her. But it was not only her beauty that captivated them, it was her posture, the way she carried herself. Her chin always high, never staggering as she walked on the street. My father always told me how proud and honored he felt, when she chose him, declared her love to him. Even to this day his eyes filled with love every time he saw her.

“I hope you are not waiting with dinner for too long, Kori must be starved,” she hurried across the room to warmly embrace me. “We haven’t seen you for so long,” She said with a pained voice. “We’ve really missed you,” she whispered in my ear. “I am so glad you are back.”

“I’ve missed you too mother,” I said as she tightened her embrace.

“How are your studies? Have you met anyone yet?” Mother curiously interrogated me.

“Well, I hope she did! She is a grown woman now for Christ’s sake!” Boris proudly puffed his chest.

“Ok, enough of that you two. First of all, my studies are doing great, and I am about to finish my degree in no time. And second of all, no, I haven’t met anyone yet. Art is a priority right now, everything else comes later,” I gave both of them a stern look.

Father completely ignored the last thing I said. “How come? Well, of course, no one is good enough for our little Korina, that I agree.” He was vigorously nodding his head.

I slapped my hand on my forehead. “Father I hope you do realize I’ve just turned twenty-three, do you? And it is not about if someone is good enough or not, I just haven’t had the time for serious relationships and dating in general. Or I haven’t met the right person, simply put,” I defensively crossed my arms over the chest.

“Good. What an intelligent woman, my daughter. But a hopeless romantic still, I see,” he clicked his tongue in a non-approving way.

I shared a knowing look with my mother when she finally broke the silence: “Stop chattering big man and serve the dinner, women are starving,” she said with a smile on her lips.

“Yes, my love, dinner is ready and served,” he pointed at the table and almost knocked down the glasses.

I chuckled under my breath as I followed them to join the meal.

“Mother, I was thinking of making a new collection of paintings this season. The old ones were good, but they are too monotonous. We cannot sell the same depictions every year, presenting only see, boats and buildings. Sure, they are pretty, but not interesting enough. We need something fresh. Think about it,” I pressed my mother, hoping for a positive response.

She put down her fork and looked curiously back at me “I trust you Korina, you’ve proved yourself a very capable artist over the past years. What do you have in mind?”

“We need to use new materials, not just oil paints. We can mix the materials you are using for your jewelry‒wood, stones, you name it. And we must sell stories, not just paintings. We have to attract new customers with not just happiness, but sadness, hope and mystery, are you following me?” I said with my voice full of enthusiasm.

“This could be good Ivana,” my father said, looking at his wife. “What do you think?”

“Difference could be good,” she scratched her chin “And God knows we need a little difference in our style. Like I said, I trust you fully and you have my permission to use your ideas as you please,” She smiled at me “But Korina, you’ve just arrived, have a rest, catch up with your friends. Have a little fun,” she gently put her hand over mine.

“There will be plenty of time for that mother, but first things first,” looking into my mother’s weary eyes, I noticed fresh wrinkles forming in the corners. Her hands were full of blisters and cracks from work, and I felt my heart twist in every possible painful way. I was determined and motivated and I wouldn’t let anybody distract me from making their lives a little bit easier.