Hello, Goodbye

Hello, everyone! I've had some people ask me about my next story, so I thought I would share a tidbit. This is the cast as I picture it in my head. The story takes place in Coupeville, Washington, which is a small town on Whidbey Island. I've been working on it off and on for about a year, and I'm getting really close to finishing my first full draft. My goal is to have the first chapter ready by spring of 2023. But I thought I would share a teaser to the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy! See you again in the new year!

XOXO
~Aly

***

The smell of the salt was as strong as she remembered. A cool morning breeze hit her in the face as the horn from the ferry sounded and the sun began playing peek-a-boo over the horizon. Over one shoulder was her green duffle bag stuffed to the brim with wrinkled clothes. At her feet was her suitcase, filled with any art supplies she could carry. And in her hand was the letter she had received one year ago. The paper was now crinkled with age, and the words had faded and smudged, her own skin oils being the culprit. She'd read the words probably a hundred times over the course of the year, and she'd thought about them even more. And now here she was. Accepting the gift they'd given her at last.

A year ago, as she stood in her old bedroom at her grandma's house, dressed in black and alone, looking at all the pieces the two of them had done together over the years, she'd squeezed the letter in her hand and sobbed. It was the first time she'd cried since her mother had told her the news that would tear her apart inside like a woodchipper chowing down on an old Christmas tree. She'd stared at the pictures attached to the old vanity mirror and wished she could go back to those days. Smiling a crooked smile with her grandma, her ginger red hair a vast contrast against her grandma's long silver locks.

Her grandma was the only elderly woman she knew who let her hair fade naturally while still keeping it long. She'd said that her grandpa liked it that way, and while that was undoubtedly true, Emersyn knew her grandma had liked it too. She'd liked the idea of growing old. Not so much the things that came with age. The arthritic pains in her knuckles that made it difficult to hold a paintbrush steady, or the way her knees ached just before a storm came in. But of watching her family live around her, knowing that she'd never miss a moment. Knowing that the silver hairs atop her head had been earned, one-by-one, by loving deeply and being loved so in return.

She'd wanted to take a few of the art pieces home with her that day, but she didn't think her mom would approve of the extra clutter. Funny how much a person could change in one year. A year ago, Emersyn wanted nothing more than to earn her mother's love and affection. No, more than that, she wanted to feel like her mother would give it to her easily, the way her grandma had. But that was then, and this was now, and Emersyn was watching the sun rise in the east, the seagulls circling around the sea in the hopes of finding a morning snack.

The early bird gets the worm. Or in Emersyn's case, the early bird gets to go home. Finally. She folded the letter and shoved it back into her pocket. There were very few people on the ferry this early in the morning, and right now Emersyn was grateful for this. She was even more grateful that no one she knew was on the ferry. It was just her and her thoughts and her grief and her dreams. Not the dreams that her mother had for her. But the dreams she had for herself. The ones she'd given up for the small hope that she could be the daughter her mother would want. The daughter her mother would choose. But now, she thought, as the ferry drew closer and closer to the island she felt in her heart was home, she knew it was more important that she be a person she would choose.