PG13 for maybe kissing and maybe the word crap or something.
"I understand, Mom. Really. I know that you . . . that Dad's been gone for a long time. I mean, it's been almost ten years since he died, right? I was six. You want to live with him, and I'm okay with that. I promise." It was a golden spring afternoon, the sun high and warm, warding off the last of the winter frost, welcoming in the rainy season with a defiant ray of sunlight. Laying on her bed, Season Oakley held the telephone up to her ear, her other resting against the pillow.
"I waited until you were old enough to really take care of yourself, Season," the voice on the other end said gently, "and I think you'll like your father's old hometown. It's small, comfortable, and everyone knows everyone else. It's quaint." Her tone had something of a city lilt to it, as one used to skyscrapers and smog. Belinda Oakley was Season's mother.
"So why did you leave? Why move here to the city, away from the comfort, Mom?" Season rolled onto her back, letting her other arm flop perpendicular to her body while the opposite hand still held the phone. She had long, wavy auburn hair to her waist, usually worn loose and flowing, and a pair of the deepest chocolate-brown eyes that anyone had ever seen. Her skin was pale and fair, smattered with freckles, and brows that were dramatic and naturally pretty. A small nose rested on her face, and a thin-lipped mouth hovered above a prominent chin.
"The country was never really for me, Season," Belinda said, a tired sort of edge in her voice. "Your father wanted me to be happy, so we moved away, abandoning his farm. I called ahead and asked the Mayor of the town to let you live there. He agreed and said he would wait for you at the pier when you got there. Season, the town is willing to give you a chance at happiness. There are children there your age to get to know and play with." The woman sounded all too eager to get her daughter to go to this mystery town that she had left so many years ago.
"All right, Mom. All right. I'll go. Not because you want me to, either, but because it sounds interesting. It'd be like me getting to know Dad better," Season declared as she sat up rightly. "I need to finish packing if I'm gonna leave in three days, Mom. I'll call you when I get to this place." She moved to hang up the phone, but heard her mother protest over the wires.
"Season!" she cried into the receiver. "Don't pack too much. The Mayor told me that the old cottage underwent an overhaul for your arrival and they all chipped in and put new furnishings inside. Just sell your old things to the pawn shop in town." Belinda Oakley sounded so pleased with herself.
Season, however, was a little miffed. How could her mother just do that without asking? She supposed her parent meant well, but she rather liked her old bed. Maybe the new one would be better. "Okay, Mom. I'll see if any of my friends want some of my stuff. I've got all that money leftover in the bank, remember?" Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the teenage girl padded across the hardwood floor to finish up packing the clothes she would not need in the next few days.
The nod could almost be heard when Belinda spoke next, "Good. You do that, dear. I have to get going, too. Robert is here and wants to take me out to dinner and dancing. Isn't that wonderful? I'll write to you, Season." With that, she hung up the phone.
Placing the cordless receiver back on the cradle, Season could not help but wonder why her mother would write to her rather than call. She shrugged a little and resumed her packing. She had some things to sell off, give away, and put into boxes before she moved off to Mystery Town.
***
"Oh, Season! I can't believe you're actually leaving!" Brenna Chogan choked out sobs as she embraced her friend at the pier, watching the boat float there as Season's things were brought on board. "I didn't think your mom would actually make you move away! I mean, this Robert guy is rich, so couldn't he just pay your rent, too?" Brenna's black hair was cut into a bob about her chin, bright blue eyes dark with sadness.
"I'm sure he could, but I didn't want to ask him. I don't like him very much, but he seems to make Mom happy. Besides, I've always wanted to live in the country, Bren." Season smiled and hugged Brenna back, giving her a vicious squeeze before releasing to stand back. "Well, I guess I should get on board, right? I just wonder where this place is. What it's called, who lives there. At least I know I'll have a place to stay, and that I won't really have to worry about anything. My very own house and land! Can you imagine?"
Brenna nodded a little and wiped away a tear. "Call me when you get there, okay? I want to make sure that this floating disaster didn't sink." She was notoriously afraid of water and boats, and loathed the idea of her best friend getting on one to float off to who-knows-where.
"I will. Don't worry, Bren. You'll make another best friend, because I don't think I'll be coming back. I love you, sister." Another embrace was exchanged before Season walked away from Brenna, heaving a heavy sigh with her duffle bag in her hand and her purse on her shoulder. She picked up a fold in her skirt to keep it from getting caught on the way up the ramp to the boat, brown shoes visible with her black socks. The skirt itself was a dark green, a lovely tan shirt accenting it with threaded ivy embroidery. It was still a little chill and she pulled out her pullover from the bag, knowing it would be even more cold out at sea.
"See you later, Season!" Brenna called from the side, waving a tanned hand dejectedly. "I'll miss you! Don't forget to call me when you get there!" It was hard for her to watch her best friend of eleven years leave. After all, she had been there for Season when her father had died when she was six and Brenna was eight. Being two years older than the girl never really seemed to matter.
"You should come and visit during the summer!" Season called back, leaning over the side of the boat with a smile. "You can stay with me in my house! Don't forget!" A low whistle sounded, followed by a shrill one, while the boat pulled out of the pier, taking Season away from the familiar and into the unknown.
***
but I was looking through all of the fan fiction and saw yours. I've always been a fan of Harvest Moon and I really liked your story. 
You kind of told too much and didn't describe his feelings enough, but that's okay I have that same problem. Hope to see more of your writing.
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