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TWO
Iris
I driveout of town and farther into the forest. I inherited my grandmother’s little ranch-style cabin in the woods. It’s tucked deep in the trees and is easy to overlook if you aren’t looking for it. The only thing that helps it stand out is the fact that it’s a robin’s-egg-blue color. My grandma insisted on painting it that color and we spent a whole spring break my freshman year of high school redoing it.
I absolutely love it. It makes me feel closer to my grandma. I can look anywhere around the property and remember a special moment between the two of us.
It’s only got two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room, but it’s perfect for me. I’ve made it cozy over the years, adding my own vintage touch to every corner of the place.
I can smell my pot roast as soon as I step inside and I sigh, kicking off my shoes and hanging up my purse on the rack behind the door. My grandpa made it out of a piece of driftwood and I smile as I run my hands over the smooth wood.
My grandparents were married for fifty-two years before he passed from a heart attack. They always seemed like the perfect couple and I used to dream of growing up and having a marriage like theirs.
Then I did grow up and I realized that the chances of that happening were slim.
I mean, my grandparents met when they were kids. They were high school sweethearts. I don’t really get guys my age. It seems like everyone wants to hook up. No one is looking for something that can last.
My mind flashes back to Arlo standing outside of the bar, watching as I drove away, and I wonder if he wants something to last a lifetime.
I’d like to think so but the truth is that I don’t really know him that well. We’ve only spoken a few times and it was never about anything more substantial than what I wanted to drink or if I was having fun.
I sigh as I make my way into the kitchen and check on the pot roast. It’s done so I turn off the Crock-Pot and grab a plate. As I sit down at the little table tucked into the corner of the kitchen, I wonder if maybe I should have taken Madelyn and Flynn up on their offer of joining them for dinner.
I’ve been in a weird mood all day. Normally I only get this melancholy when it’s close to my grandparents’ birthdays or when I talk to my parents. Neither has happened recently and knowing my parents, I won’t hear from them for a few more weeks.
They’re in Florida. They retired there a few years ago. I think that they did it out of spite. I had just come back from college and bought the antique store. They were furious with my decision to start my own business. There were so many fights about how I was making the wrong choice. How hard owning and running your own business was and how I wasn’t ever going to make any money.
Suffice it to say that they haven’t been proud of me and my little antique store. I like to think that they were just worried that I wouldn’t be financially stable, but I’m not sure that that was the only reason.
They never ask me how things are going. I’ve tried to tell them stuff before, like slipping in that I had my best month yet or that I found and sold this old necklace for a crazy amount of money, but they never seemed to care.
My parents always pushed me toward the higher-paying careers. They wanted me to be a doctor but I can’t handle the sight of blood. Then they were pushing me to become a lawyer, but I hate arguing with people or being the center of everyone’s attention.
From there it was all downhill. I was never going to be who they wanted me to be and I think that they just kind of gave up. I’m pretty sure they retired so that they wouldn’t have to stay in town and watch me at the antique store. That and maybe they wanted to make sure that they were on a fixed income so that if I needed it, I couldn’t ask them for help monetarily.
We haven’t been close in years and I hate to say it, but I think my life is better without them in it. They were never the best parents but I didn’t mind because I had my grandparents.
Now I just have my friends.
My phone rings and I smile when I see Sutton’s name on the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask her as I answer the call.
“Not much. Teller is still on his shift at the firehouse. I was wondering if you had eaten yet? Or if you wanted to grab a drink here in town?”
“Are you trying to get away from Stan?” I tease and she groans.
“Yes. He’s driving me crazy today! He’s being even more crotchety than usual,” she complains.
“I heard that!” Stan yells in the background and I picture Sutton rolling her eyes at her great-uncle.
“I made a pot roast and I’m just sitting down to eat. You’re more than welcome to join me,” I offer.
“That sounds awesome. Should I bring anything? Wine?”
“If you want.”
“See you soon!”
