“Okay, I’ll get dressed in a hurry and come back down.” I ran upstairs and dressed as fast as I could, washing my face with cold water and swiping my eyelashes with a light coat of mascara so I wouldn’t scare Hudson or make him regret what he had said to me in the dark.
After setting the table, I helped Hudson bring the food over, and we sat down to eat together.
“Are you sure you want to live with that guy?” Hudson asked me before we started eating. “You could stay here indefinitely. I won’t even be here for the next couple of weeks. I leave tonight. You don’t take up a lot of room, and you’re not a bother. You don’t know this other guy. He could be a serial killer.”
He could also be a cult leader, but I decided to keep that to myself. Hudson was already down on the whole Joe idea.
“Thank you for your kindness and hospitality, but it’s time for this little birdie to fly from the nest,” I said. “And I’m not living with that guy. I’m going to live in a sweet little bungalow by myself. You’ll see the bungalow today if you help me move in.”
Hudson put his hand on mine. “Eliza, there’s no “if” about it. I’m going to move you in. There’s no way I’m dropping you off there without inspecting the place and this platonic Joe. If I don’t like either, I’m not letting you stay there.”
My hand tingled under his touch, and I felt my face grow hot again. This was getting ridiculous. I was playing a game that was impossible to win. Hudson was much younger than I was, and besides, he had the whole night to make a move, and he didn’t. That meant that he was smarter than I was. He knew not to start something with me because it wouldn’t work. He knew that he was better off with his own young Tight Tammy. Someone who could meal prep with him and look good in yoga pants. I was much more of a sweatpants woman than a yoga pants woman. That was definitely not Hudson’s type.
A couple of hours later, Hudson had packed up the car, and we were on our way to Joe’s compound. Joe had sent me the official address, and Hudson typed it into his GPS, and we left the townhouse development.
The compound wasn’t far, but it was a world away. After twenty-five minutes, Hudson turned off the main road onto a gravel road, which wound its way through a forest.
“I didn’t know any of this existed,” Hudson said, looking around.
“I think Joe owns all of this. Did you see the sign back there? I think we’re on a private road.”
“A rich artist. You found the only rich artist. Figures.”
“Money is overrated,” I said. “Money can’t buy happiness, you know? A modest military salary is good enough. Splashy money is just splashy, nothing more.”
Yikes. It was the worst lie I had ever told just so I could make Hudson feel better about his bank account. I was such a liar. Money definitely bought happiness and everything else, including a forest and a compound. It bought security and safety and peace of mind.
“Money is a tool,” Hudson said. “But it doesn’t keep husbands faithful. It doesn’t make housewives fulfilled.”
“I know, so don’t feel bad about Joe’s money. You have a good job.”
Hudson laughed. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but when I joined the Marines twenty-two years ago, I started putting all of my combat pay into Bitcoin and did that until right before it crashed. I can buy a bunch of forests if I want to.”
“What the hell?” I said because no other words came to mind. I was too shocked. All of my life’s savings were stuffed into a plastic bag in my purse. Hudson’s life savings couldn’t fit in a semi-truck.
“This is cool,” Hudson said as we reached the compound. He parked his car on the outskirts of the meadow, close to the farmhouse. “That’s wherehelives, huh?” he asked, pointing at the farmhouse and obviously not happy about it.
“The bungalow is on theotherside of the meadow.”
I realized I was excited to be there and see my bungalow again. That’s how I already felt about it. It was mine. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be able to live in it.
Hudson grabbed my suitcase and an armload of photo albums. I carried the rest of the photo albums and my quilt. We crossed over the meadow. Just as we were about to pass the other bungalow, a man and a woman came out and waved to me. It was Jenny and Paul. Joe had mentioned them to me the day before. Paul was wearing a flour-coated apron, and Jenny was wearing an earth goddess flowy dress and a mane of long, thick, curly hair.
“You must be Eliza!” Paul called out. “Welcome.”
“Come on over after you’ve moved in,” Jenny urged. “The door’s always open. I hope you like bread.”
Hudson caught my eye and shook his head disapprovingly. “You moved in next to a baker?” he asked as we walked past Paul and Jenny.
“Isn’t it great? All the bread I can eat. Look, here’s my bungalow.”
It was still as cute and charming as I remembered it. Now, there was an old-fashioned skeleton key in the lock, and the door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open with my elbow and was greeted by the smell of freshly cut flowers and freshly baked bread. Someone had left vases of flowers for me on the fireplace mantle and the coffee table, in my bedroom, and in the kitchen. There was a loaf of bread on a cutting board in the breakfast nook, along with two croissants and a small fruit tart.
I started to cry.
“Oh, geez,” Hudson said. He put my stuff down and clamped his arms around me in a tight embrace.
“It’s so perfect,” I blubbered. “It’s a dream come true. It’s everything I wanted.”
