Author's Note:
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, and they are the intellectual property of Stephanie Meyers. Also, I do not condone her appropriation of the Quillayute or Quileute tribe. Please, consider researching their initiative to move to higher ground due to their current reservation being in a critical tsunami zone at mthg .org*. You can also learn more about the tribe at their website here at quileutenation .org*.
In my story, I will attempt to address their characters and culture with respect and reverence. However, I am always open to hearing about more appropriate ways to represent indigenous nations and people of color.
Additionally, I am seeking a Beta Reader, so please send me a PM if you are interested.
Also, please keep in mind this is my first attempt at writing a story. I welcome constructive criticism and feedback but, please try to be kind. Thank You!
Lastly! The beautiful artwork for the story was created by the incredibly talented little-lynx .tumblr. com *, definitely go check her out, and a HUGE thank you to her for letting me post my story with her art!
*All links need the spaces taken out to work
The crisp sea air hit my face as I exited the plane. I looked skyward, seeing the heavy fluffy gray clouds that were telltale signs of a storm to come. I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath; tears pricked my eyes. Before I could get too wrapped up in my thoughts, I felt a light touch on my arm.
"You okay, sweetie?" I turned to see Mary, her eyes filled with concern.
I blinked away my tears, replying, "Of course, just not used to this salty air. Now come on, your boyfriend is probably dying to see you again." At the mention of her new love, Mary's face lit up, and a pink tinge came to her cheeks before bashfully asking, "Do you really think he will have missed me that much?" I nodded, and we looped arms and climbed down onto the tarmac briskly walking to our Gate entrance. Once inside, Mary and I said goodbye, and I promised that I would come to visit her at her bookstore as soon as possible. I headed towards the baggage claim area, scanning the crowd as I walked for any sign of my Dad. He had promised to pick me up from the airport.
"Bella!" Someone called my name loudly; I turned only to see my Dad with a huge grin on his face attempting to part the sea of people. My heart warmed at seeing him; it had been too long. After finally managed to maneuver through the throngs of people, we finally met in the middle. I threw my arms around him, almost knocking him off balance. "Woah there," he said as he squeezed me back, saying, "Good to finally have you home, hun." He smelled just like I remember he did- like a pine forest after a storm and a smidge of gun powder. I let go as I smiled at him, replying, "So good to be home, Dad."
He grabbed my suitcase's handle, asking, "Did you check anything? I am sure you have tons of books you wanted to bring, and maybe a few pieces of clothes?" I couldn't help the slight grimace that came to my face before I quickly suppressed it. Unfortunately, by the concerned brow furrowing on Charlie's face, I wasn't very successful. I tried to curb his concern by replying, "Oh, no, it's only this bag because Mom" -I gagged internally at calling her that- "is boxing up everything else and shipping it here to make things easier." His face flushed with relief, "Oh yeah! That makes sense, of course. Your mother would think of the most practical way to do things." With that mini-crisis averted, we headed out of the airport and to the cruiser. I could tell by the way it glistened that Dad had just gotten it washed, his small way of gussying up the car for me. He popped the trunk and lifted my beat-up duffel into it before coming up to the driver's side and sliding into the seat. As he buckled up, he glanced over at me, "All buckled up?" I nodded, touched that he still asked even though I was older now. "Good, then let's get going," he replied as the engine roared to life.
About three and a half hours later, we pulled up to a familiar two-story again. I could see that Dad had attempted to spruce it up for me by recently repainted the house. It was a soft eggshell white; it was a sweet touch. However, it wouldn't last long against the Washington weather. A bright blue banner hung from the second story declaring, "WELCOME HOME BELLA!" I turned to Dad. I could tell he had been holding his breath, hoping that I would like his little efforts to welcome me home. "The house looks amazing Dad, did Sue help you choose the color for the house?"
I asked with a smile. Dad beamed as we pulled into the driveway, "Actually," he puffed up his chest a little with pride, " I chose it myself. However, Sue did help me pick out the banner. I wanted the house to look nice for you," he paused as we parked averting his gaze "I know your Mom and Phil" my stomach churned at his name "were able to give you a lot more, so I hope that you will be happy here." I hated how Renee had destroyed his confidence. I hated knowing that she had used me to do it too. Telling him that I hated this small town and his 'poor' home and life. I put my hand on his shoulder and made eye contact with him, "It is perfect. I am so happy to be home, Dad". A small smile of relief came to his face as he murmured, "Good, good." He looked at me, "Well, let's grab your luggage and head inside?" I nodded, and we hopped out of the car. As he headed to get my luggage from the trunk, I took a moment to take in being home. The wrap-around porch, one of my favorite places to curl up with a blanket and a book, the enormous bay windows, perfect for watching raindrops race in the winter and open in the summer for just the right breeze. "Come on kiddo" I was brought back to reality by Dad's voice calling me from the front porch. I hadn't even noticed that he had already grabbed my luggage. He shook his head at my goofy behavior as he unlocked the front door, it was still a rust color red from when I was 10 years old. Jacob and I decided we were going to host our own home makeover show- safe to say two broken windows and a red door later our show was canceled by Billy and Dad. I chuckled to myself, those were the days. Before he ruined everything. But now wasn't the right time to think about that, so instead I climbed the steps onto porch and walked in through the front door.