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The Forsyth was Elizabeth’s smothering hug. When she was there, she couldn’t wait to get away from it but it always drew her back when times were tough. Like yesterday, when the bottom had fallen out of her life in Atlanta.
It was the last day of school before the holiday break. Some of the teachers were making plans to go out after work for some holiday cheer, when Principal Wescott had buzzed Elle’s room and asked her to come to the office for a quick meeting.
The long and short of it was, her job as an art teacher had been eliminated. She knew her position was tenuous when they hired her two and a half years ago. The money for art education wasn’t in the school’s budget, but a group of tenacious parents thought art was important. Via the school’s foundation, they’d raised enough money to hire an art teacher for two years. The parents thought if they got the art program off the ground, the county would work it into the budget. That didn’t happen, and despite raising enough money to cover her salary for the first semester, the foundation finally realized the county wouldn’t budge and had redirected its efforts behind a new pet project.
For the foreseeable future, the school didn’t have a job for her. Principal Wescott couldn’t make any promises, but she said she would try to find Elle another position after the first of the year. There would probably be something in the fall. Not in art, but it would probably be a teaching job.
“In the meantime, I’ll understand if you need to look for another job.”
Merry Christmas to her.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Elle had applied for a mortgage to buy a condo in the Buckhead area. She’d scrimped and saved and brown-bagged so many ramen-noodle-soup-and-peanut-butter-sandwich lunches that she couldn’t stomach the combo any longer. But it had been worth it to get the home of her dreams. She’d saved up enough for a down payment, she’d found the perfect place and the sellers had accepted her offer.Without a job, there was no way she would qualify for the mortgage. It had taken her a long time to find this condo—the perfect size, in the perfect area, at the perfect price. The sellers were building a house. They couldn’t hold it for her, and at that price, it wouldn’t be on the market long. Her own real estate agent had caught wind of the listing before it went public. They’d moved fast, but without a job, there was nothing she could do. She had to be honest with the lender about her change of employment status.
Mortgage aside, she needed money to cover her expenses while she looked for a new job. She had enough money to cover living expenses for a few months, but after that, she would have to dip into her down payment savings.
At least she had a little bit of leeway. Even so, she hadn’t been able to take a full deep breath until she’d packed her car and found herself fifty miles down I-75, heading straight into the big smothering bosom of Savannah and the Forsyth Galloway Inn.
Now, after a fitful night’s sleep, she stood on the wrought iron balcony off her bedroom, sipping coffee from a china cup with a matching saucer and breathing in the heady morning air—that intoxicating punch of the humid subtropical flora, spiced with hints of sulfur from the river. She closed her eyes and inhaled the comforting perfume. No matter how long she stayed away, she could always count on Savannah smelling the same when she returned. She was counting on the sameness of it to help her get her head on straight.
Even in December, Savannah was warm by northern winter standards.
And then there was that sunrise.
It dawned so brilliantly over Forsyth Park, which was decorated for the holidays with pine garlands and red bows wrapped around the old-fashioned light posts and swagged along the black iron fence surrounding the majestic fountain. The vision took Elle’s breath away. She was tempted to believe the magical scene was a sign that coming home had been the right move. She stood admiring the splendor of lavender, persimmon and amber blooming in the sky. The fickle breeze flirted with her hair and kissed her cheeks before it flitted away to toy with tangles of Spanish moss dripping from the ancient live oaks in the park across the street.
She sighed and swallowed the last sip of coffee, which had gone cold and bitter.
