I was happy to find that my seat was next to the window, at least I would have a decent view when I wasn’t sleeping.  An older, slender man took the seat next to me and briefly furrowed his brows in notice of the scratch under my eye and tinge of purple engulfing it.  Thankfully, he had nothing to say about it.  In fact he was pleased to not say a word the entire flight.

It’s an eight-hour flight to Bangor, Maine with two short layovers in Atlanta and La Guardia.  All I had to do after that was survive the hour-and-a half drive to Camden alone with Mrs. Hamlin.  I’ve never been a fan of small talk and no one has ever accused me of being verbose, but I was mostly worried about the worst possible case scenario.  Complete, awkward, silence.  What would I say to her? Would she ask me a million questions about myself?  I hate talking about myself-there’s nothing especially interesting about me.  “Great,” I thought aloud.

When the plane landed in Bangor, I went immediately to the baggage claim just as my dad instructed.  While waiting for the luggage carousel to come to life I looked up Camden on my phone.

The Jewel of the Maine Coast; at least that’s what Wikipedia said.  On Maine’s mid-coast, surrounded by scenic ocean and majestic mountain views lies a small town named Camden.  It is among many small communities known for their history and maritime industries.  I automatically imagined rusted out boats and the stale stench of fish.

Behind me, a sliding glass door opened letting in a cold draft of air.  It was instantly clear that I underestimated the temperature difference between the two coasts.  The chill sent my entire body into instant shivers forcing me into my hoodie-consequently the only warm article of clothing I brought with me.

Then, I saw her approaching from the offending doorway with her easy, elegant stride.  Grinning wildly, Mrs. Hamlin greeted me with a two armed embrace as though I were her sole reason for happiness.  It startled me at first, but the warmth that emanated from her instantly subsided the chill and tension.

“Hello Katherine, it’s so wonderful to see you.  Welcome.”  She said, excitedly.  Her voice almost sang as she smiled.

Her youth was unexpected too, she didn’t look old enough to be the mother of teenage children.  Her skin was smooth like porcelain, warmly radiant and complimented by her silky wheaten hair.  It made me sick.  I mean, I didn’t expect an Ogre or anything, but the photos dad showed me did her no justice at all.  What surprised me most though were her eyes.

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