Page 7 of Beautiful Crazy
“Love you, Mom.”
Ending the call, I turn off my car and climb out. The house, from the outside, looks cute. Quaint. To be honest, I don’t know anything about it; how many rooms it has, if it has a backyard, nothing. Popping the trunk, I grab my bags out of the back and head inside. When I left Seattle, I sold almost all of my belongings, only taking with me what would fit in my car. The fresh start feels refreshing. And not having to pay for movers was a bonus.
Once inside, I set my stuff down in the dining room and take a look around. There’re three bedrooms, one of them looking like it was used as storage. I’ll have to go through all of it at some point, but not today. The last week has been… interesting, and even though life has been a bit slower paced, I’m feeling tired today—overwhelmed by all the changes that have happened in such a short time. Now that I’m here, in her house, it feels more real. At the inn, it was easy to feel like I was on a vacation, and now I think I need to allow it all to sink in.
It's clear right off the bat that my grandma loved this house. It’s evident in the unique touches. The trinkets and knickknacks placed all over the inside and the well-maintained flower beds outside. It’s like I canfeelher when I’m here, and that fills my chest with excitement and hope, and maybe even a little reassurance that this was the right move.
As I glance around one last time before I get to work, I’m smiling.
Here’s to a fresh start.
Four
Gemma
“Shit, where the hell is my charger?”
Sutton just went to bed, and I was going to try to get maybe an hour of work done before calling it a night but, of course, my laptop is nearly dead and my charger is nowhere to be found, which doesn’t make any sense. I specifically remember putting it back in there this afternoon.
My phone rings, temporarily putting a halt to my search. Grabbing it off the bed, I swipe across the screen, putting the call on speakerphone.
“Hello?”
“Do you know if Beau left his glasses in your car?” my sister Grace’s voice filters through the speaker. “They’re nowhere to be found here, so he must’ve left them at camp or in your car, is my guess.”
“I’m not sure.” Slipping my feet into my slippers by mybedroom door, I walk out toward the front of the house. “Let me go check.”
My sister has two kids, Beau and Blakely. Beau is Sutton’s age, while his sister, Blakely, is a grade younger. Since Grace runs her own bakery and I have a bit more flexibility in my schedule, I pick all three of them up from summer camp each day so she doesn’t have to leave work.
“Did you get a lot done today?” she asks as I bound down the front steps toward my car.
“Yeah, it was a good day. What about you?”
“It was okay. I’m training the new girl, and so far, she seems great.”
Unlocking the car, I open the back door. “Beau’s glasses are here,” I tell Grace. “And Blakely left her book in here too.”
Grace groans. “Those kids.”
I laugh, grabbing them both to bring inside before something catches my eye on the front passenger seat. “Aha!”
“Aha, what?”
“I’ve been looking for this damn charger. Finally found it.”
“Looks like our kids aren’t the only ones who would lose their heads if they weren’t attached,” Grace teases.
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” Snatching the charger, I lock the car and turn to head back up the walkway to the house. “If you want, I can swing by in the morning and drop these off so Beau has his glasses for camp.”
“That would be amazing. Thank you.”
My gaze flits over to the house next to mine. The porch light is on, as is the kitchen light. My neighbor, Rosie,passed away about three months ago, but it looks like, as of today, somebody is living there now. As I’m making a mental note to go over there this weekend and introduce myself, the front door opens, and out walks the man I can’t seem to stop running into.
Grace is rambling on about something or other in my ear, but I’m too focused on the pair of blue eyes that drift my way, and the fact that I’m standing outside in nothing more than a silk robe and fuzzy slippers I put on after my shower.
“Grace, I gotta call you back,” I murmur, watching as a smile tugs on his lips and he descends his front steps.
“Uh, okay,” she says.