“You’re never too much,” Tia assured me. “From what I can tell, that doesn’t seem too far-fetched.”
“I just…I don’t know why he did that. I’ve been thinking about it a lot today, because Grampy would always call me on my birthday. And today, this was the first day I never received that phone call.”
“Well, maybe that was Clay’s gift to you.”
Tia’s thought lit up my heart. My jaw dropped. He knew my birthday was approaching, and he knew the tradition Grampy and I kept. He knew I wouldn’t receive a call this year, and had one last chance to do that for me.
“I…uh, that’s….” I couldn’t catch my words. It made sense; Clay had always been selfless. “I think you’re right.” I finally found the words to say. “It was a gift.”
“As far as gifts go, I got you one as well.” Tia reached into her backpack and passed me a picture frame. It was a copy of the sketch I’d drawn of her, Clay, and I all those years ago. “It’s corny, I know. I just know you’re the sentimental type, that’s all.”
“It’s perfect.” I gave Tia a huge hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She hugged me back with a big squeeze. “And I think, as far as traditions go, we could always start something new.”
“Yeah?” I caught my breath as she let go. “What did you have in mind?”
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Tia raised her arms towards the sky. “Just the three of us.” She pointed to Taz pissing on the rocks below. I laughed. “How about we come here? Spend all night under these clear skies and create a new kind of nostalgia, a new tradition.”
It certainly didn’t sound so bad. As I looked around, I saw everything I ever wanted: solid friendship, a place that felt like home, and a place where I finally found what I had been seeking. I found belonging, even if it had taken a long time. I was finally standing in it.
“Besides, it sounds like you have a new canvas for the memories.” Tia pointed to the new journal Mom had gifted me, sticking out of my backpack.
“Creating new memories that’ll some day be nostalgic.” I smiled. “That doesn’t sound like a bad journal entry.”
“I knew you’d be up for it.” Tia grabbed my hand, and we ran into the distance, creating a new memory.
It was the first time in a long while I felt a genuine smile extend across my face. Maybe it was the wind flowing through my hair, or the friends who loved me honestly even on my worst days, knowing that the phase after grief isn’t always linear. I was ready to explore these moments I know would grow into nostalgia. I had spent the better part of my life being a seeker, and this was it: I found exactly what I’d been looking for.
I lived my life always so scared of the future, because I left so much of myself in the past. I left friends, family, and mysteries behind. I was scared that the future would somehow bury that part of myself. I was scared to move forward without confronting the things I left behind. I thought the only way to move forward was to dig deep into the mystery, and seek clarity. But one thing I learned is that we all have reasons to avoid the past. We all have events that change us, force us in a different direction. Sometimes it pushes loved ones away; sometimes it brings them closer. It was time to find my own path.
This is me—finally learning to loosen my grip of the past, and creating something new. I knew these moments would become memories, and I would never be alone. Even if we are temporary, I was going to live in this moment, and allow myself to seek something new. I let those thoughts guide me, as we ran beneath the bleeding sky, we knew the stars would heal.
Acknowledgements
So many sleepless, coffee-filled nights and shots of espresso go into a book before readers see it. Add elements of time travel and fantasy, and you’ll overthink everything. I guess what I’m trying to say is authors are really, really tired. But this is an experience that I’m so grateful for. I would like to thank Whitney Moran and Terrilee Bulger for believing in this project from the start. It’s not every day we see an African Nova Scotian fantasy novel, and this is a very personal project that I have been developing for years. I am grateful that Nimbus Publishing took this project on with open arms.
I would like to thank Emily MacKinnon for being a rad editor throughout this entire process—we made an awesome team. Thank you for everything!
A big thank you to Jenna Giles for driving me to Yarmouth for location scouting, and to Joella Hodder for being supportive all the way through. You two are some of my closest friends, and I am lucky to know you.
To Bria Cherise Miller and Amy Austin: thank you both for being excited about this project, and for letting me ask you so many questions about Yarmouth. A lot of my family is from Yarmouth, but I grew up in Halifax. Those visits I took during childhood summers fuelled the nostalgia for this project. I’m thrilled that both of you wanted to be part of this process, and it wouldn’t have been as genuine without your input.
To Sarah Sawler: thank you for being a great friend and helping me through the process when I was new to everything. Making author friends is so important. I’m so grateful we met and bonded so easily.
To Rob Grimes, a former co-worker and close friend: you pushed me to write this book ever since I told you about the premise during a lunch break years ago. I told you I’d put you in the acknowledgments one day! Thank you for motivating me, my friend.
To my mom, Penny Carter:
