All It Is, Is Just A Name

Grey’s P.O.V.
I’ll Send It In A Letter

XxX 3:56 p.m. on 7th Street in Sequim, Washington XxX

It was late afternoon when I finally rolled into town. Cariselle and I decided that I shouldn’t just show up on the doorstep because that would definitely be too much of a shock for both of us. Instead he said I should write a letter and then he could give Skye a bit of an explanation along with it. So my plan of action starts at finding a decent place to shower.
Driving through these streets gives me this bittersweet nostalgic feeling. All of the summers spent at Mason’s Creek, the school days at S.E.S. and then S.M.S . The little old Russian lady on the corner who’d give us cookies and hot cocoa,. And all of the little things too. Like that one sidewalk square on Alaska Way where Skye scraped his knee when he tried for the first, and only, time to ride a skateboard.

Eventually I settled on Babushka’s Bed & Breakfast. Its just down the street from the schools and is owned by the very same little old Russian lady I mentioned before. I parked my car in the public lot around back and got out. After stretching my legs for a bit I popped the trunk, (which is really the hood *heehee*), and dug around for some fresh clothes to put in my messenger bag. Once I had my overnight bag packed I locked up the car. The ‘hotel’ is really just a 7 bedroom house with a large fruit garden beside it. I wasn’t sure weather to knock or simply walk in, so I rung the bell just to be safe.

A minute or so later said little old Russian lady answered the door, “Ah, vou have fin alley returned. Meased too much malchik.” Her gentle voice had a thick accent. “Sasha! Feex de blue room. Ve have guest.” She called over her shoulder.

I followed her and checked in at the make-shift office in the living room. Soon I was out back in the garden drinking tea with the woman as we spoke of the past, present and future. Just like Lucy, she had eerily accurate insight on my situation. I was trying to decide what I should do first when Babushka, as she insists everyone call her, said,

“Show him virst malchik, weeth lettar. Den vou moost go to him, tell him.” I knew she was right and her accent only seemed to make the words mean more.

She took me inside and sat me down behind the huge lacquered desk of the makeshift office. I picked up a pen and began to write on the stationary in front of me.

Skye,

No matter what you read, you must believe. Trust in these words as you trust in me.
It has been exactly 2 years 8 months and 23 days since you last saw me.
Its finally safe for me to come home.
This isn’t easy to explain in a letter but hopefully I will be able to talk to you in person soon.
Only if you want to see me. And only when you want to. Elle know how to reach me.　
Your GreyDawn has returned. I will be waiting for you.

GDSummers

I folded it in thirds and slid it into an envelope, on the cover I scrawled April 3rd ‘09 for Skye.Then pulled out my cell phone dialing the house phone and praying Cariselle picked up.

“Afternoon Grey.” *sigh of relief* His voice was quiet but not a whisper, Skye must not be near

“I’ve got the letter, could you come pick it up? I’m at Babushka’s.”

“Sure thing I’ll be there in a few. God, I wonder what you look like all grown-up. You know sometimes cute kids turn out not to cute.”

“Oh shut up Elle! I’ve still got raven hair and my eyes are still the color of my name. I’m just taller, filled out and much, much hotter.” We both started cracking up at the same time.

I couldn’t wait to see him again. Both of them.