Whispers of Lavender

glass, watching the outline of the village materialize through a veil of lavender-colored mist. Seven years had gone by, and yet nothing seemed to have changed

scent of lavender hit her like a punch, earthy, floral, and searingly nostalgic. It was as if the wind

ke her name. She had not expected that they would. The girl who departed Valemont was not the woman who came back. Lila

street, their Mira's Bakery, still sporting its faded awning, the little antique shop where she used to press her nose against the window, and the library

e of her grandmother's l

her hand, and the field be

center, its weathered white paint and sagging roof as worn and loved as the memories within. A swing still hun

, letting the scent of the fields fill her

il

ce star

and her br

as

s rumpled dark hair. He was larger now, his boyish features honed to more defined lin

them moved

a spoke.

she would vanish like a dream. "I

re I was," s

The last time they'd seen each other, she had been crying on this

f his neck. "I've been taking care of the farm.

know. She left me the de

, searching her face.

ngered in the a

id honestly. "I guess I'm

eadable. "The fields are still b

ng out over the rows of lavender. "She alw

Then they'll be glad

and promises were broken. She wanted to ask him why he never wrote. Why he let her leave withou

inside," she

. "If you need anything, I'm just down

g her suitcase a lit

ning away. "It's good t

and the scent of lavender traveled betw

ger, her heart pulsing

ds, maybe sell the farm, and move on. Yet there was nothing straightforwa

old floors and old faded wallpaper, the smell of lavender and lemon oil still in the air. Her grand

tly, the leather wa

wasn't done whi

wasn't don