I can’t tell if I feel excited or ill.
We’d exchanged numbers and had been texting on and off, although very little of it is personal. Again, there’s a transactional feeling to all of our communications.
Briggs: Meet me for lunch?
I let my head fall back against the headrest as a sigh spills from between my lips. The spirits that whisper through these trees where so many souls had loved and lived before are undoubtedly whispering all my secrets to Nan this very moment.
Me: Can’t. I’m meeting someone. Dinner?
Briggs: Who are you meeting?
Me: Is this you being possessive?
Briggs: I wouldn’t dare. I would dare, however, to invite myself to tag along.
I smile.Why am I smiling?
Me: Not today.
Briggs: …do I have reason to be jealous?
Me: You can’t be jealous of something that means nothing to you.
Briggs: You do mean something to me.
My heart flutters. I hate it. And love it.
What is wrong with me?
Me: I’m meeting my Nan for lunch. Just the two of us.
Briggs: I’ll take you up on dinner. Enjoy your lunch with your Nan, little lunatic.
Me: I don’t know why you call me that.
Briggs: It fits.
I roll my eyes and drop my phone into a cupholder. Nan has never been a fan of screens, often lamenting on the old times when people knew how to connect face to face and intimately with one another andnature. She says we’re losing something integral to our baser nature and will pay handsomely for it in the years to come.
I think she might be right. Scroll culture isn’t healthy for anyone. It’s why I don’t have a lot of social media. Michael used to say I’d never get anywhere if I always resisted the times. But the only place I’ve ever wanted to ‘get’ is here. To Sunset Falls and the lands surrounding it. To the people who live and love with all they’ve got. To give this town I love so much a fighting chance at surviving the deconstruction of all the small towns that once stood strong and proud against the irresistible pull of an easier, more accessible, big city life.
The reality is that we need more here in Sunset Falls. More than we have. We need an attraction. Something to appeal to some of that big city wealth. Something to keep us afloat so we can maintain the survival of this town and those who’ve always loved it.
The ancient screen door pushes open, and Nan appears with the black cat that’s been her companion for as long as I can remember. He slinks out onto the porch, shining fur glistening under the embers of sunlight that blaze through the leaves in the trees.
I kick off my sandals, leaving them on the floor of my car as I step out onto the dusty earth of Nan’s drive. The warmth of the land instantly radiates into the soles of my feet, like a balm of sweet relief to my strung-out soul.
I cross the distance that stands between us, sinking into Nan’s warm embrace as soon as I hit the wood of her porch. I can feel Nero—her cat—weaving between our legs as we hug.
“It’s been too long, my girl.”
“Mmm. It has.” I give her an extra squeeze before I let go. Then I scoop Nero for a kitty snuggle as I sink into one of the old chairs on her porch.
“I’ve been steeping for chilled tea.” Nan slips back inside the house, leaving me to snuggle Nero as I wait.
His purr is settling, like all purrs are settling. One day, I’m going to get me a little house in the trees like Nan. I’m going to have cats and dogs. But I like to be in with the action just a little more than Nan, so I won’t be as secluded.
I’ll be able to do this after everything with Briggs is said and done. Not only will my debts be paid, but I’ll be five hundred thousand dollars richer.
