She claps her hands together like she’s applauding for her favorite rock band. “Good! I think it’ll be perfect for you. Also,” she adds, “it comes with free coffee.”
I look around for a coffee pot and when I don’t see one, I ask, “What does that mean?”
“It means that you can come down to Rosemary’s anytime you want, and we won’t charge you for coffee.”
“I don’t remember your last tenant having that deal,” I tell her.
“That’s because he didn’t. But you’re my friend and I want to see you every day, so you get free coffee.”
I’ve never spent time with Faith outside of work, but that’s primarily because I haven’t felt very social. Also, up until recently, Lorelai has lived here and she’s filled my need for a friend. “I’ll be in every day,” I tell her, feeling appreciative that she’ll still be in my life. “But I’ll pay for my own coffee.”
“No dice,” she says determinedly. “Free coffee, but you can pay for your own baked goods.” Then she turns around and leads the way down the back hall. “Come look at the bedroom and bathroom.”
A continued sense of perfection envelops me as I follow along. The bedroom isn’t large but it’s big enough to fit a queen-size bed and a chest of drawers. The bathroom has been updated so it feels quite modern. Except for the claw-footed tub, that is. That looks original and wonderful. I can’t wait to move in so I can light some candles and spend my evenings soaking in a bubble bath while reading a good book.
“When can I move in?” I ask Faith.
She brushes a strand of auburn hair back that has escaped her ponytail. “It’ll be cleaned today, so you can have it as soon as tomorrow.”
“That’s perfect.”
“Don’t you want to know how much it is?” she asks. She quotes the price before I can tell her that it doesn’t matter. I want to live here at any price.
Even so, I’m surprised by how little she’s asking. “You could get a lot more,” I tell her.
“Maybe during the season,” she says, “but being that I want it filled year-round, I don’t want to gouge a fellow Elk Laker.”
For the first time since coming home, I start to feel like I might not be in a hurry to leave. When I left for college, I was determined I would never live in Elk Lake again. I knew bigger and better things were waiting for me and I couldn’t wait to claim my piece of a grander destiny. Of course, that didn’t turn out like I expected.
“Thank you again, Faith,” I tell her. “Thank you for everything. I can’t wait to live here.”
Handing me the keys, she says, “I’m thrilled you’ll be calling this apartment home, even if it isn’t forever.”
I hadn’t thought about how long the lease will be for, so I ask, “Is it possible to take it for six months and negotiate from there? My new job is only temporary.”
Waving a hand in front of her face, she answers, “I’m fine with doing month-to-month. You don’t need to sign a lease.”
If that isn’t a sign that Elk Lake is from another time I don’t know what is. “I’ll give you at least a month’s notice before I leave,” I tell her.
“That’s perfect.” She adds, “I need to get back downstairs for the lunch rush, but you can stay here for as long as you want. Just leave the door unlocked for the cleaning crew.”
After she walks out, I turn and stare at my new home while starting a list of everything I’ll need to buy. I need a sofa, a bed,basic tableware, as well as bedding and towels. I don’t even have anything as insignificant as a dishcloth to call my own.
Since I don’t know how long I’ll be here, I don’t want to go crazy, but I still want to make it feel like home. This next period, for however long it lasts, is vital to whatever comes next. I’ve mourned with my parents, but now I’m moving into Allie’s life, the single years. I laugh out loud. That sounds like a movie. But who knows, maybe I’ll write a memoir someday and that will be the title.
I hang out in my new apartment for another thirty minutes, prioritizing my purchases. Then I head down the street to the only furniture store in town. I get a bed there but nothing else. I spend the rest of the afternoon looking in second-hand stores where I acquire a coffee table, a nightstand, a chest of drawers, and a sleeper sofa that looks brand new. Everything will be delivered to my new apartment tomorrow, which is another giveaway what a small town Elk Lake is.
On my way home, I stop off at the grocery store and purchase a bottle of champagne along with fixings for a nice supper. I figure the best way to share this news with my parents is to get them a tiny bit tipsy while filling them full of good food. Then I’ll drop the hammer.
I drive back to my parents’ house with the windows down to let the fall air whisk through my hair. I am not the woman I thought I’d be at this age, and while that has brought me a good deal of sadness in the last months, that’s no longer the case.
My life doesn’t feel scripted like it did when I was with Brett. With him, I was his wife, and the future mother of his children. There was always a sense that I was his supporting cast, merely existing to compliment his role as the star of our show.
Now that those days are gone, I welcome the opportunity to be the main character. This is my life, and I get to live my way. I don’t have to compromise on anything, and I find that prospect positively thrilling.
It’s late afternoon by the time I get back to my parents’ house. Neither of them is home, so I unload the groceries and get busy fixing supper. At six o’clock, when they still aren’t back, I text my mom.
Me
