I frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, realizing she meant she'd have to move.
She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll be okay. It's the businesses in town that will be closed down because of the expansion that I worry more for."
I nodded, still frowning. We were quiet for a second before I said, "I vacationed on the other side of the lake with my family when I was a little girl."
She picked up the pitcher of tea on the small table next to her and poured us each a glass and handed me one. "Did you? What brings you back here now?"
I took a sip of my tea, purposefully stalling for a couple seconds. Finally I said, "I'm on a short road trip. I was happy there that summer." I shrugged. I tried to smile, but talking about my family still brought a tightness to my chest. I settled on what I hoped was a pleasant expression.
She studied me for a second, taking a sip of her own tea. Then she nodded. "Well, dear, I think that sounds like a good plan. And I think if this place brought you happiness before, it can bring happiness again. Some places just agree with people, I think." She smiled warmly and I smiled back. I didn't tell her that the other reason I was here was that it was the last place my family had been truly happy and carefree. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when we got home from that trip. She died six months later. From then on, it had just been me and my dad.
"How long are you planning on staying?" Anne asked, pulling me out of my reverie.
"I’m not sure. I don't really have a specific itinerary. I will need to get a job though. Do you know anyone who's hiring?"
She set her glass down. "Actually, I do. The diner in town needs a morning waitress. They're open for breakfast and lunch. I was in the other day and there was a sign up. The girl who worked there before had a baby and decided to stay at home with him. It's right on the main street in town–Norm's. You can't miss it. Always nice and busy. You tell them Anne sent you." She winked at me.
"Thank you." I smiled. "I will."
We sat quietly for a minute, both sipping our tea, the sound of crickets singing in the background, and the occasional mosquito buzzing past my ear. I could hear distant shouts from boaters on the lake, probably about to head in and call it a night, and the soft sound of the lake lapping on the shore.
"It's peaceful here."
"Well, I hope you don't find this forward, dear, but it seems like you could use a good dose of peaceful."
I let out a breath and laughed softly. "You must read people well," I said. "You're not wrong there."
She laughed softly too. "Always have been good at peggin' people. My Bill used to say that he couldn't hide anything from me if he tried. Course, love and time will do that too. You get so the other person is practically another part of you–and you can't hide from yourself. Although some are good at tryin', I suppose."
I tilted my head. "I'm sorry. How long has your husband been gone?"
"Oh, it's been ten years now. I still miss him though." Melancholy skated briefly across her features before she pulled her shoulders up and nodded her head at my glass. "He used to like a little bourbon in his sweet tea. Made him frisky. Course I didn't mind. Kept him smiling and only took a minute or two of my time."
I had just taken a small sip of tea and I put my hand over my mouth not to spit it out. After I had swallowed it down, I laughed and Anne grinned at me.
I nodded after a minute. "I guess men are pretty simple that way."
Anne smiled. "Us women learn that young, don't we? Is there a boy waiting back home for you?"
I shook my head. "No. I have a few good friends, but no one else is waiting back home for me." As the words spilled from my lips, the true nature of my alone-ness in the world felt like a sucker punch to my gut. It wasn't news to me and yet somehow, saying the words brought it home in a way that the knowledge itself didn't. I drained my glass of tea, attempting to swallow down the emotion that had suddenly overcome me.
"I should get going," I said. "Thank you so much for the tea and the company." I smiled at Anne and she smiled back, beginning to stand as I did.
"Anytime, Bree. You need anything at all, you know right where I am."
"Thank you, Anne. That's very kind. Oh! I do need to make a trip to a drug store. Is there one in town?"
"Yes. Haskell's. Just drive back through town, the way you came in and you'll see it on your left. It's right before the one stoplight. You can't miss it."
"Okay, great. Thanks again," I said, stepping down the stairs and giving her a small wave.
Anne nodded, smiling and waved back.
As I walked back through my own yard to get my purse out of the house, I spotted a lone dandelion full of fluff. I bent and plucked it out of the ground and held it up to my lips, closing my eyes and recalling Anne's words. After a minute, I whispered, "Peace," before I blew and watched the fluff float out of sight, hoping that somehow one of those seeds carrying my whisper would reach that something or someone who had the power to make wishes come true.
CHAPTER 3
Bree
The sky was just beginning to dim when I drove into Pelion, a quiet, almost old-fashioned, little downtown area. Most of the businesses looked to be family, or individual-owned, and large trees lined the wide sidewalks where people still strolled in the cooler, late-summer twilight. I loved this time of day. There was something magical about it, something hopeful, something that said, "You didn't know if you could, but you made it another day, didn't you?"
I spotted Haskell's and pulled into the parking lot to the right of it and pulled into a spot.
I didn't need groceries just yet, but I was in need of a few basic necessities. It was the only reason I'd run out at all. Even though I had slept five hours or so today, I was tired again and ready to settle into bed with a book.
I was in and out of Haskell's in ten minutes, and walking back to my car in the deepening twilight. The streetlights had blinked on in the time I had been in the store, and were casting a dreamy glow over the parking lot. I pulled my purse up on my shoulder and switched the plastic bag from one hand to the other when the bottom of the plastic tore open and my purchases fell to the concrete, several items rolling away, out of my immediate reach. "Crap!" I swore, bending down to pick my stuff up. I opened my large purse and started tossing in the shampoo and conditioner I'd picked up, when I saw someone stopped in my peripheral vision and I startled. I looked up just as a man bent down and put one knee on the asphalt and handed me the bottle of Advil that had rolled away, apparently directly into his path. I stared at him. He was young, and had shaggy, long, slightly wavy, brown hair that was in desperate need of a cut, and facial hair that looked more neglected than purposefully rugged. He might be handsome, but it was hard to make out exactly what his face looked like under the overly-long beard and hair that fell over his forehead and down around his jaw. He was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt that was stretched across his broad chest. The t-shirt had had a message on it at some point, but now was so faded and worn away that it was anyone's guess what it had once said.
I took all of this in in the few brief seconds it took me to reach for his extended hand holding the bottle of pain medication, at which point, our eyes met and seemed to tangle. His were deep and whiskey-colored, framed by long, dark lashes. Beautiful.
As I stared at him, it felt like something moved between us, almost as if I should reach out and try to grab the air surrounding our bodies–like perhaps my hand would come back holding something tangible, something soft and warm. I frowned, confused, but unable to look away as his eyes quickly darted from mine. Who was this strange-looking man and why was I sitting here frozen in front of him? I shook my head slightly and snapped myself back to reality. "Thanks," I said, taking the bottle from his still-outstretched hand. He said nothing, not looking at me again.