Sunset

Chapter One

Port Angeles, on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington (state of), must be the place all the villains speak of when they say "I'll put you where the sun don't shine." Or maybe I was just being my typical over-romantic self.

It was a far cry from the sunny skies I had left in Pittsburgh, and although I was all for rainy days and thunderstorms, I did enjoy seeing that yellow star cross the sky. More than three times a year. I sighed. Leaning my head against the window, I had to keep telling myself that this had been my brilliant idea. If I brainwashed myself with that, maybe soon I would actually start to believe it. I had no idea what on earth made me suggest moving across a continent to live with the uncle and cousin I loved but rarely saw, miles from everything I'd ever known in my short life. Well, I knew what suggested it, but I surprised myself that I stuck through with the idea.

"Isn't it glorious?" the woman sitting next to me on the plane said, leaning into me a little bit to see out the same window I was.

"I suppose so…" I answered absently. "Looks like it's raining."

"Oh, sweetie, it rains all the time! This is only the spring rain!" The poor woman was beaming at me as if she was sharing the best news. Well, she had mentioned earlier in the flight that she was finally home from a long visit in Alabama with her mother, and had greatly missed her young children. So I suppose I could forgive her. But rain? All summer?

I buckled my seatbelt when the pilot announced we were going to descend, and thought about the summer ahead of me. I was coming to live with my Uncle David, in a tiny town I had to Google – a quaint-looking place called Forks. His ex-wife had drunk herself into a stupor and wrapped her Porsche around a telephone pole a few months ago, so he'd gotten full custody of their son Drew. He'd told my mother that life in L.A. wasn't conducive to being a good single father, so a month after the accident he'd packed up and moved north.

For years I'd joked about moving to California to college, before I'd decided on nursing school, and I'd always told my uncle I'd move in and housekeep for him …never thinking I'd actually keep that bargain. But I wasn't exactly in college anymore… instead he'd gotten me in at the local hospital. I had an interview practically minutes after I would step off the plane. Well, hours, but to me it felt like it was all moving far, far too quickly.

"You may now unfasten your seatbelts. Remove all carry-on pieces from the overhead compartments, and thank you for flying…" I tuned the announcer out as I waited for the woman beside me to move. I felt like I was going to faint. This girl walking off the plane into a totally new and strange life could not possibly be me, the shy girl, the quiet one in the corner of the classroom; the very same one that still cringed while talking to the stranger on the other line while she ordered a pizza. My seatmate, oblivious to my inner turmoil, chattered on about her family while I collected my duffel bag and shuffled out of the plane behind her.

Being short in a crowd of people and trying to find someone is like trying to get to air while drowning. Now, I know my uncle wouldn't have forgotten… would he have? I felt tears – born of stress and exhaustion – press behind my eyes. I'd never felt so alone in my entire life. Maybe he wasn't coming for me, maybe my mom had wanted me to harden up, to be strong, like her. It was all I could do to resist wallowing in self-pity and my own insignificance…

"Ashlyn. Ashlyn!" The familiar voice cut through my depressed thoughts and I turned to see Uncle David parting the crowd, heading for me. I'd never seen anything so welcoming in my entire twenty years. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his waist – he was quite a bit taller than I was – and he awkwardly hugged me back. I pulled away, blushing, and he smiled sheepishly at me. We weren't exactly used to this uncle-niece thing, seeing as we had lived about 2,644 miles apart for most of my life. "You look like hell – I bet you're beat."

That was what I loved about him – straightforwardness. I stuck my tongue out at him like a child. "Gee, thanks. It's so nice to see you too, Uncle David." I laughed, though, and he shouldered my duffel and began heading for the luggage return. "But you're right. I'm pretty whooped. Where's Drew?"

"He's with the neighbors, I wasn't going to stress keeping an eye on him in the airport," he explained. I nodded – that was logical enough. Drew was a spitfire. Well, the quiet sort of spitfire. He was a sharp learner and a polite boy, but was eternally curious, and if it suited his fancy to walk away from his dad to take a closer look at something, so be it. Never mind that he gave people heart attacks when he meandered away. It wasn't exactly as though you missed him for the first few minutes, the quiet bugger. A smile grew on my face as I thought about living with him for the next few… months. Months, yes, I could think in terms of months and it wouldn't bother me. I never was close to any of my cousins, I didn't have very many – but he was young, so there was still opportunity for me to make up for lost time.

I tuned in to the events around me in time to stop my uncle from grabbing the wrong suitcase – a black one with pink polka dots – and pointed him in the direction of mine, which was coming around. Purple, my favorite color, and a parting gift from my father and his dad. Although I had two suitcases – one full of clothes, the other stuffed with books – my uncle picked them up as if they were feather pillows. I had forgotten how strong he was. I did insist on rolling one of them behind me, to feel useful, as we trudged out of the airport and towards his Explorer. It was still raining, and in less than a few moments, water ran down my face in rivulets.

Welcome to Washington.

The car ride was an hour, give or take – at least, that's what I'd been told, but I must have passed out at some point of the ride because when I woke up we were within town limits. I rubbed my eyes and looked at my uncle apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be such dull company." I yawned. "I don't know how on earth I slept this much. First the plane ride, now the car…"

"It's the time change," he said with a shrug. "Don't worry about it. Your grandmother has a hard time with it the first few days she comes to visit, too." Then he stole a sideways look at me and added, "Uhm, do you mind if we don't go straight home? I have to stop in at the station and let them know I can start my shift tonight. If you're okay watching Drew. If you're still tired, I'll ask him to stay at the McGraws—"

"I'll do it," I cut him off. "I mean, I'll watch him. I told you I would, didn't I?" I smiled what I hoped was my best cheerful grin. I didn't want to cause him any trouble, and I was sure I wouldn't be tired, not after the five hour nap I just had this afternoon. Even if my internal clock was three hours ahead.

"Oh, well… thanks. It's a big help." He turned into the parking lot of a small, multi-leveled building with the sign that proclaimed it to be the Forks Area City Hall. "You wanna come in?" he asked me before turning off the car. I gulped. Surely I could sit in the car, by myself, until his return. I mean, it wouldn't be the tiniest bit offensive if the new police officer's niece didn't come in to say hello just because she was scared of meeting new people. I bit my lip before bursting out with, "Sure!" Luckily, he apparently didn't think that my private mental war had anything to do with my fear of new things – perhaps he thought I was still waking up. Either way, I slid out of the passenger side and darted into the building after him, my jean jacket over my head for protection from the rain.

Inside it was air-conditioned and dry, like my own personal slice of heaven. My sneakers squeaked against the floor awkwardly as I followed my uncle down the hallway towards an office marked "Law Enforcement." He walked in and held the door open for me to pass, and I looked around curiously. A law-abiding citizen, I'd never seen the inside of a police station… if you could call it that. It was a medium sized-room with a front desk, partitions set up to create a few cubicles, and a door that led to the office of the Chief. The secretary at the desk looked up from her paperwork and pushed some of her brown, frizzy curls behind her ear with a welcoming smile. "I sure hope you're here to say you can work, David, or else you can go tell the Chief yourself that you're not," she said. Her eyes lit on me and I had to look at her or seem terribly rude. "And this must be Ashlyn, isn't it? Such a beautiful name, I told your uncle that before. I'm Karen, Karen Bingham."

I offered my hand and shook it with hers, trying to mirror her easy smile. "It's just Ash. I'm pleased to meet you," I said, getting a good look at her. Wide face, large ice-blue eyes hiding behind tortoiseshell glasses, lips that smiled easily, and a dimple in one cheek. She looked to be around my Uncle's age, possibly not yet 40, and seemed like a genuinely nice person. I relaxed.

"Wow," Karen breathed out, not having let go of my hand. She was staring at me. "Are your eyes really that colour, or do you wear contacts?"

I flushed pink straight to the roots of my hair, I could feel it. God curse my strange looks. "Uhm, no. My eyes are really this colour." I averted them from hers to look at the floor, and she finally let go of my hand.

"Well, they're absolutely gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it before!"

"Actually, Karen, I can work tonight, and I just thought I'd bring Ash in to meet the crew," my uncle cut in on my embarrassment, leaning against the wall and surveying the cubicles behind Karen. "But it doesn't look like anyone's in. There's only four of us on the squad, and the chief," he explained for my benefit, I knew. I tried to look more attentive.

Karen shifted a stack of folders from the desk to the floor, so the beginning of her sentence was muffled as she said, "You just missed Jack and Dan, they went for lunch. Nancy's out on shift, but Charlie's in his office." She straightened up in her chair and reached for another stack of papers. "I'll make sure the night secretary keeps the keys to the cruiser, so you know where to get them," she told my uncle. He chuckled.

"You mean, so I won't wander around the station looking for them for an hour, like last time?"

"Exactly what I mean. You're kind of perceptive, for a city slicker," Karen teased. I almost gaped. Was this woman flirting with my uncle? This was… weird. Very weird. I mean, I didn't care, it wasn't my business. It was just… weird.

"City slicker? I grew up on a farm that was the size of this town, Karen. Just because I came from L.A. to here doesn't make me a city boy," my uncle protested.

I began to ignore their conversation as I caught sight of the clock hanging on the wall. It was only noon here. Noon! My brother would just be getting home from school right now, at home, it was three o'clock. If I were home, I'd probably already have something in the oven for dinner and be sprawled out on the couch, reading a book. Alan would stalk into the living room, whack me with his book bag, and rant about how unfair it was that I was done with school and he was just finishing his junior year, when clearly he was the one who wanted to be out of school and in the real world… Tears pricked my eyes, this time with an unfamiliar wave of homesickness. I had even commuted to college. What on earth made me think I could suddenly uproot and transplant myself on the west coast?

"…Well, Ash has her interview today, so we'd best get her home and unpacking," my uncle was saying. It was his hand on my shoulder that had dragged me from my internal breakdown. I took a steady breath and smiled at Karen, who was wishing me luck at my interview.

"Thank you, that's very nice of you," I tried to smile back. The butterflies were beginning to do jumping jacks in my stomach.

"See you, Karen."

"Later, David."

We were sprinting back to the SUV when I realized that the rain had lightened up. That still didn't mean I was going to sit around in it. I hustled into the SUV and frowned out the window at the thick gray clouds, willing them to go away. Some sunshine would make this whole transition easier for me. As the engine roared to life, I heard my uncle say, "Time to go home."

He couldn't have gotten it more perfect.

I wanted to go home.


Vittaria