My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in
Phoenix, the sky is a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite green turtle necked — sleeveless, sweater I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item is my mother's favorite leather jacket.
In northwest Oregon State, a small town named Oceanside exists under a
near-constant cover of clouds and sunshine. It rains in this inconsequential town rarely than in any other place in the
United States of America. It was from this town and its sunny, omnipresent sunshine that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few two years old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Cole, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.
It was to Oceanside that I now exiled myself— an action that I took with great excitement. I detested Paris.
I loved Oregon. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling town.
"Elena," my mom said to me — the last of a thousand times — before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."
My mom looks like me, except with brown hair and laugh lines. I felt a mild tinge of panic as I stared at her wide, deer-like eyes. How could I leave my loving, fun, uncoordinated mother to fend for herself? Of course, she had Chase now, so the bills would probably get paid, and there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still… I'll worry.
"I want to go," I say. I'd always been a bit sad about not spending more time with Cole, but I'd been saying I will so frequently lately that I just had to go. It sounded almost convincing now.
"Tell Cole I said hi."
"I will."
"I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want — I'll come right back as soon as you need me."
But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise. She needed Paris and she deserves it. She has been the best mother anyone could ask for.
"Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."
She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a five-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Oregon, and then an hour's drive back down to Oceanside. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Cole, though, I was a little worried about. I haven't seen Dad in a while.
Cole had been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.
But it was sure to be awkward with Cole. Neither of us was what anyone would call open, and I
didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision — like my mother before me, I hadn't made my love for Oceanside a secret.
When I landed in Oregon, it was raining a little. I didn't see it as an omen — just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to Mom.
Cole was waiting for me with his truck. This I was expecting, too. Cole is a forest ranger to the good people of Oceanside. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a truck with yellow and orange lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like those yellow-orange lights.
Cole gave me an awkward, two-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.
"It's good to see you, Ellie," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't
changed much. How's Rosalie?"
