"No, Nat, not yet. But I feel good about this place. I really do." I tried to sound chipper.
Nat paused again. "Honey, I don't think it's about the place."
"That's not what I mean. I just mean, this feels like a good place to get away to for a little bit… oh gosh, you've gotta go. Your mom and aunt are waiting for you. We can talk about this another time."
"Okay," she said, hesitantly. "So you're safe?"
I paused. I never felt entirely safe. Would I again? "Yes, and it's beautiful here. I found a cottage right on the lake." I glanced out the window behind me, taking in the beautiful water view again.
"Can I come visit?"
I smiled. "Let me get settled in. Maybe before I turn back around?"
"Okay, deal. I really miss you."
"I miss you too. I'll call again soon, okay?"
"Okay. Bye, honey."
"Bye, Nat."
I hung up the phone and went to the big window and drew the shades in my new bedroom and climbed into my freshly made bed. Phoebe settled in at my feet. I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow.
**********
I woke up to the sounds of bird calls and the distant lap of water hitting the shore. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was just past six in the evening now. I stretched and sat up, orienting myself.
I got up, Phoebe trotting along behind me, and brushed my teeth in the small bathroom. After I rinsed, I studied myself in the medicine cabinet mirror. The dark circles under my eyes were still there, although less pronounced after the five hours of sleep I had just gotten. I pinched my cheeks to bring some color into them and gave myself a big, cheesy, fake grin in the mirror and then shook my head at myself. "You are going to be okay, Bree. You are strong and you are going to be happy again. Do you hear me? There's something good about this place. Do you feel it?" I tilted my head and stared at myself in the mirror for a minute longer. Lots of people gave their own reflection pep talks in the bathroom, right? Totally normal. I snorted softly and shook my head slightly again. I rinsed my face and then quickly pulled my long, light brown hair back into a messy twist at the nape of my neck.
I went out to the kitchen and opened the freezer where I had put the frozen meals I had had in a cooler on ice in my car. I hadn't had a lot of food to bring with me–just the few things that were in my refrigerator at home–a few microwaveable meals, milk, peanut butter and bread, and some fruit. And a half a bag of dog food for Phoebs. But it would do for a couple days before I had to find the local grocery store.
I popped a pasta meal into the microwave sitting on the counter and then stood eating it with a plastic fork. I watched out the kitchen window as I ate and noticed an old woman in a blue dress and short white hair come out of the cottage next to mine and walk toward my porch with a basket in her hands. When I heard her light knock, I tossed the now-empty cardboard meal box in the trash and went to answer.
I pulled the door open and the old lady smiled warmly at me. "Hi dear, I'm Anne Cabbott. Looks like you're my new neighbor. Welcome to the neighborhood."
I smiled back at her and took the basket she offered me. "Bree Prescott. Thank you. How nice." I lifted a corner of the towel on top of the basket and the sweet smell of blueberry muffins wafted up to me. "Oh gosh, these smell delicious," I said. "Would you like to come in?"
"Actually, I was going to ask if you'd like to come have some iced tea with me on my porch. I just made some fresh."
"Oh," I hesitated, "okay, sure. Just give me a second to pull on some shoes."
I stepped back inside and put the muffins on my kitchen counter and then went back to my bedroom where I had kicked off my flip flops.
When I came back to the front, Anne was standing at the edge of my porch waiting for me. "Such a lovely night. I try to sit out in the evenings and enjoy it. Pretty soon I'll be complaining about how cold it is."
We started walking toward her cottage. "So you live here all year round?" I asked, glancing over at her.
She nodded. "Most of us on this side of the lake are year-round residents. Tourists aren't interested in this town as it is. Over there," she nodded her head toward the far side of the lake, barely visible from this distance, "is where all the tourist attractions are. Most in this town don't mind that, like it even. Course all that's going to change. The woman who owns the town, Victoria Hale, has plans for a bunch of new development that will bring the tourists here as well." She sighed as we climbed the stairs to her porch and she sat down in one of the wicker chairs. I sat on the two-person porch swing and leaned back on the cushion.
Her porch was beautiful and homey, full of comfortable white wicker, and bright blue and yellow cushions. There were pots of flowers everywhere–wave petunias and potato vine cascading over the sides.
"What do you think about bringing tourists here?"
She frowned slightly. "Oh, well, I like our quiet little town. I say let them stay over there. We still get the passer-throughs which is enough for my taste. Plus, I like our small town feel. Supposedly condos are going up here, so there won't be any more lakeside cottages."
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."