Cold Feet

Chapter 15

VIOLA

I take a last look at what was my life in the big city. The house has been sold and stands all locked up in front of me. My business is dead and the ‘Sold’ sign on the front lawn stands boldly like a headstone and testament to its death. I was able to afford this house because of my business and having to sell it now represents the loss of everything that I built.

I smile thinly as I hand, Jenna, the agent, the keys to the property. I don’t want her to see my pain. I don’t think she’d understand and besides, I’m really just another client to her. Was another client, I correct myself. The house is sold. I have no more value to her unless I’m in the market for another house and I’m not. She knows it.

Nevertheless, she did a great job for me.

“This is for you,” I say as I hand her a small gift.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have,” Jenna says smiling with genuine appreciation.

“You deserve it,” I smile.

“Thanks,” she says smiling back at me.

I shake her hand and greet her. Then I get in the car, start it and with a quick wave and empty smile, back out of the drive. I look at the house one last time as I drive away slowly making my way to the freeway.

It’s a long drive and I stop regularly to rest. When I need to sleep, I stop and park in public places where I know it’s safe. I sleep in the car to save my money and make it to my hometown in two days.

When I arrive, I realize not much has changed but then what do you expect? It’s not like people are rushing to get to this small town.

It was the only place I could think of to come right now. I tried finding work after my business died but my reputation preceded me and I wasn’t able to find work that would pay the bills and sustain my lifestyle in Los Angeles. It hadn’t been an extravagant lifestyle either.

So here I was. I had told no-one about the small house my mother had left me after she passed away although I know anyone who had seriously wanted to sue me would have found it. I was grateful that the lawsuits threatened by past clients hadn’t happened.

Even if they had, if I had to sell this small house it wouldn’t have generated much cash. A house in this small town wasn’t worth much. I was nevertheless grateful that I still had it and that it was paid for.

Surprisingly, I left Los Angeles with a bit more money than I expected and the fact that my mother’s house is paid in full, gives me some room to breathe.

The house has been closed up for so long that it smells dusty. I carry my bags from the car into the house and set them down in the bedroom before going through the house and opening all the windows and doors. I change into my oldest clothes and began cleaning immediately. By the time evening arrives I am still far from finished.

All the work cleaning and dusting has left me with an appetite I have not had in a long time and I decide that I will finish the cleaning tomorrow. I need food and decide to drive into town to get some food from the local supermarket.

When I enter Danzer’s I get the feeling that the only things that have changed are the products on the shelves and the cashiers. Other than that, I remember it exactly as it has always been when I was growing up. I roam between the shelves and find that the products I want are still in the same locations on the shelves where they were so many years before. As I wonder if I have stepped into the land that

time forgot, someone bumps into me from behind and I drop the jar of peanut butter I am holding. It smashes on the floor splattering peanut butter all over.

Look at that. They still use glass bottles here, I think as I look at the mess. My thought is interrupted by the person that collided with me.

“I am sorry. I’m such a klutz,” the woman exclaims.

I think I recognized the voice and turn to look at the woman.

She has red hair that falls just past her shoulders. Her hair frames her face as it hangs smooth, silken and straight. Her eyes are emerald green and her lips full and perfect. I am sure I have seen her somewhere before but can’t quite recall where.

As it happens, I do not need to recall where I have seen her before. She remembers me.

“Oh, my goodness! Viola! It’s so good to see you! I had no idea that you were in town. How long have you been back?”

As she speaks to me, the penny drops. Amber. I went to school with her. We graduated in the same year. I never expected to find her here after all this time.

“Amber,” I reply surprised. She steps forward and hugs me as if we are best friends. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

“Well, it really is me. I never left,” she smiles.

I’m surprised to hear her say it. As far as I can recall, Amber had big plans which included leaving the town where we grew up as soon as possible.

“Why don’t you finish your shopping and then we can meet the coffee shop just over there?” Amber says pointing to the coffee shop just outside the entrance of Danzer’s.

“Sure. Why not?” I reply. I have no inspiration to rush home to the empty house. Dust bunnies aren’t the most social creatures. On the contrary, they love to make me sneeze. Besides, I can do with some company right now.

I finish my shopping and twenty minutes later I enter the coffee shop and find Amber seated at a table by the window.

Her face lights up when she sees me. I get the feeling that she might be just as starved for company as I am. Then I remember how popular she was in high school and I tell myself I’m wrong. I’m sure she’s just as popular now as she was then.

We order latte’s and start talking. Amber tells me she never left. She had plans to study at Yale but then her father died from a heart attack and with no income she had to give up her dream of studying to be a doctor and leaving to work in a big city. She watched all her friends leave to go and study and lost contact with them over the years although some of them return occasionally to visit their parents.

Amber asks me what I’ve been up to and I tell her. I make the history brief and don’t go into the details of what caused the demise of my wedding planner business. I expected that she would know but it seems that the news from the big cities doesn’t reach the small towns. Or people here just aren’t bothered to read about what happens in the big world. Either way I feel relieved at not having to go into the details of what happened.

Amber asks me what I’m doing now and I tell her I’m going to have to look for a job. She tells me she waitresses and offers to put in a word for me at the restaurant. I thank her and tell her I’m interested. At least the income will help me save what little money I have until I figure out what I really want to do next. Being a wedding planner here does not hold much promise. I think a funeral parlor is a more

lucrative business here. I’m not being nasty but most of the people I see are older and retired. Their children have moved away and the town is slowly dying. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s on a major trucking route, it might have died long ago. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

We have an enjoyable chat and Amber tells me that she’s leaving tomorrow for a few days as she has a job interview in Los Angeles. I wish her well for the interview despite the disappointment I feel inside. If she gets the job, I’ll be alone here and I was just getting used to the thought of having an old friend around.

After our Latte’s and catching up, we swap numbers and leave. I feel happy to have met an old friend despite the fact that she might not be around much longer. I go home to the dust bunnies feeling a lot better.