It was a long twenty minutes of rushing and trying to signal for a cab before she could finally cram her suitcases and herself in the back seat of one.
“Where to?” the gentleman asked, turning on the taximeter.
“Fast Travel Rentals on 120th Ave NE, please,” Erin instructed.
The man acknowledged her with a tip of his cap before starting the car and directing it toward the highway. She kept her eyes focused out the window at the approaching vehicles racing past them for the fifteen minutes it took to get to her destination.
“That’ll be eighteen-fifty,” the man informed her when he came to a stop at the car rental agency.
Erin fished the money from her purse, paid him, and ascended the steps leading to the building’s front door. Fifteen minutes later, with a set of car keys in hand, she followed the customer rep to the parking lot at the back. Five minutes later, she drove out of the lot in a rented white Subaru Impreza and was back on the highway heading toward Whidbey.
Fifteen miles into her journey, Erin noticed the sign indicating the exit she needed to take was coming up. Five minutes later, she took exit 226 off I-5 and made a left onto the state road. She finally caught sight of the majestic Deception Pass Bridge ten minutes later.
Deception Pass Bridge was a grandiose structure; its arching steel structures, a network of wrought iron, and flowing lines blended seamlessly with the landscape of the surrounding environment.
The waters below though choppy and unbelievably deep, were a deep blue-green hue that gave the appearance of a sea of tranquility. There was also the welcome sight of rough cliffs that plunged to meet the whirling waters and various other land formations, such as tiny islands and vast mountain ranges that emerged from the ocean's surface. The result was the ideal, Instagram-worthy backdrop. She imagined using it for one of Saint’s campaigns. She would have to run it by Archie.
She recalled that the most excellent views of the entire east side of Skagit County could be seen on the bridge's north side. Along with her aunt Andrea, she hiked the west side and witnessed a breathtaking view of the Canadian border.
As she drove on the bridge, her thoughts wandered to the tragedy— the passing of her grandfather— that had forced her mother and aunts to move permanently back to Oak Harbor. Erin adored her grandfather despite the fact that they weren't particularly close because of the conflict between him and her mother. He had been kind and encouraging of her aspirations in the little time she’d had with him. He had unexpectedly passed away, depriving her of the chance to get to know him better. Now her grandma had followed him into the hereafter and left many broken hearts in her wake, including Erin’s.
A tear slipped down her cheek at the thought of Becky. The only grandparent she had left was now gone. She reached up and used her finger to wipe under her eye. It felt as if she was losing everyone she’d ever cared about, and it scared her to think about who could be next. A shiver ran down her spine.
She drove past the elliptical board with the words "Welcome to Whidbey Island" written in white lettering on a background of green, between two bald eagles perched atop rock piles with beavers at the bases of each and made her way into town.
There was a mix of dated stores and larger conglomerate enterprises throughout the town.
Downtown Oak Harbor was more urbanized than most areas. Based on what her mother had told her, it had undergone the most significant alterations. There were a few parking lots, quick food restaurants, and high-rise corporate complexes. However, there were still a lot of modest retail stores scattered in between.
Her stomach growled in need as the aroma of smoky bacon entered her nose. She was reminded that it had been about ten hours since her last meal. She stopped and entered a little restaurant after spotting it a few blocks away.
A few people sat at a long counter with a row of stainless-steel stools. Behind the counter, two men wearing white chef's uniforms were there. One was preparing a plate of food at a preparation table, and the other was flipping eggs on an industrial burner. Erin sat on one of the unoccupied stools and glanced at the menus.
“Good morning. What can I get for you?” the man who’d just slid the plate before a customer greeted her.
“Good morning,” she returned with a bright smile. “Can I have a cup of coffee, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, please?”
The man turned around and said, "Sure thing, young lady. Coming right up." He then brought down a cup from the steel shelf housing the stacks of plates and cups. A pitcher containing milk and sugar was set in front of her after the coffee was dispensed into the cup from the industrial maker. “Your order will be prepared shortly.”
Erin smiled in response. Before raising the cup to her lips, she added milk and sweetened the coffee. The warm sensation as the bittersweet liquid passed down her throat encouraged her to take a big sip. The sizzling breakfast plate was brought to her ten minutes later, and her immediate focus was on it.
After a hearty breakfast, Erin returned to her car and turned onto SE 8th Ave. She drove past the rows of oak trees that stood watch on either side of the street, their spiraling branches reaching as far as they could go and joining to create a semi-canopy across the road. It was a lovely sight.
She soon made a U-turn onto Torpedo Road, then a right onto Pioneer Way, and finally, after passing the “Welcome to Willberry Inn and Restaurant” sign, she made a U-turn onto the property. As she rolled down the partially paved path, which was bordered on each side by towering trees, gravel crunched under the car's wheels.
She emerged from the trees and saw the well-tended lawns. The pathway, surrounded by a profusion of colorful flowers and ornamentals, led to the semi-arched driveway that led to the colonial home with three stories that had been converted into an inn. The massive mahogany door with brass knobs stood out against the background of the building's all-white grandeur. With the exception of a few remodeling additions like the sizable sliding windows and the substantial balconies that encircled the two upper floors, nothing much had been changed about the exterior. However, her mother and aunts had made a few more changes to the interior, and a few other amenities, namely a gazebo, had been added for the guests’ convenience.
She drove by the updated barn house that had been converted into a restaurant. The exterior's exposed natural-colored wood gave it a rustic appearance.
She entered the driveway of the two-story family home, which was painted a light shade of blue with white accents two minutes later. Leaving her luggage in the car, she walked up the three steps and walked across the porch toward the front door. Her heart started to beat erratically in her chest as she rang the doorbell and waited.
A minute later, it was Cora, her mother, who opened the door. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in registered shock.
“Erin? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” she rushed out, concern replacing her initial surprise.
“Hello to you, too, Mom. It’s so nice to see you.” She smiled, bypassing Cora’s questions.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I just wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side of this door,” Cora explained, pulling her daughter to her and kissing her temple.
