“Don’t set an expiration date on this adventure. You never know what’ll happen.” Vannah breaks the daze I’m floating in.
I blink, and my surroundings zoom into focus. The endless fields of crops spread far and wide, a mix of green and gold dancing in the wind. The natural beauty isn’t lost on me. It’s such an organic vision to witness, one I’m not used to seeing. The contrast to my typical view of concrete and streetlights is almost startling.
“I’m a city girl,” I argue.
“Only because you haven’t lived elsewhere.”
“On purpose.”
She clucks her tongue. “Be careful. Someone might call you a highbrow.”
That gets a laugh out of me. “And will that person be you?”
“Hardly. I’m a snob, remember?”
That leads back to how we got on this topic. I cough to clear the prickling dryness from my emotional whirlwind, wishing for a gas station to magically appear at the corner. “To answer your earlier question, I’m not in Bampton Valley yet. I pulled over before crossing county lines.”
Vannah hums in that knowing way of hers. “Having second thoughts?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I just needed a moment to compose myself. The drive has me wired.”
“Do I need to come visit?”
“Already?” It’s my turn to tsk. “I’ll manage for a few days at least. After that, all bets are off.”
“Noted, but I’m sure you’ll find ways to stay occupied.” Her suggestive tone doesn’t go undetected.
“The landscape is stunning,” I deflect. “Makes me wish I’d taken an agricultural course or two.”
“Find a farmer to clue you in. You can assist with stroking the roots.” This girl is shameless.
I continue along the mature, respectable path. “That probably won’t be difficult, considering the array of plants I already see.”
My friend giggles, as if catching on to my game. “That’s the right mindset. I want to hear all about your dirt discoveries, emphasis on dirt-y.”
“And that’s my cue to get going. You’ve effectively raised my spirits.” The grin lifting my cheeks is all thanks to her.
“Pay it forward, and have fun. Don’t forget to send me pictures of your place.”
That reminder gives me another boost of happiness. “Can you believe I’ll have my own house?”
“You’re such an adult, growing up right before my eyes.” She gives a few sniffles for good measure.
“And you’re a dork. Thanks for the chat, Van.” I’m hoping my sincerity bleeds through the earpiece.
“Always, babe. Talk soon.”
The line disconnects with a click, and I deflate against the seat. No more delaying. I swipe over to the map, tracking the remaining distance. Twelve minutes left on my journey. That seems impossible, considering the lack of civilization. Only one way to find out. I switch gears and set off on the winding road leading farther south.
The rest of my drive to Bampton Valley passes in stretches of undeveloped plots of soil, thumping tires, and spotty radio reception. A premium Spotify subscription is in my near future. So is a car wash if the state of my usually shiny hood is any indicator. That’s another thing to expect when traversing across sections of loose gravel.
Occasional structures become more frequent as I narrow the gap to my target location. Water towers and windmills make room for businesses and homes. Seeing people bustling about is also a welcome sight. My chatty app keeps me company, but the robotic companion is one step above total silence. My extrovert personality has me craving social interactions and new connections. Nothing is better than being in close proximity to others. According to the virtual routes I’ve found, my address isn’t too far from the main drag cutting through town. That should be convenient if nothing else.
As I turn onto Oak Lane, it seems the stars continue to align in my favor. Rows of tall trees shade the road. Their swaying limbs beckon to me as I pass at a crawl. The quiet street is lined with adorable houses separated by large yards. I already appreciate that my neighbors can’t peer directly into my windows from the comfort of their living room. Manicured lawns, blooming flower gardens, and pruned bushes showcase a level of care that’s often absent where I come from. My initial impression of this environment gives me a warm and inviting vibe. I’m willing to admit that a dose of whimsy is already sweeping over me.
My phone alerts me that I’m approaching my destination on the right. Even if the numbers weren’t plastered on the mailbox, I can tell this is it. I pull into the cobbled driveway with a wide smile painted on my face. This vacancy is a gem to cherish, similar to my job.
The house is small, around a thousand square feet, but size doesn’t matter—especially in this case. This single-story rambler is plenty for me. A purple door pops against the white siding and black shutters. Colorful bricks edge the walkway, and an assortment of potted plants are arranged on the deck. This place oozes quaint charm.
I hop out of the car with a renewed pep in my step. The fear I’ve worn like a dark cloak falls away with a flourish of beaming sunlight. After entering the code into the lockbox, I slide the key into the deadbolt. A wave of cinnamon spice swirls with the clean scent of a fresh start as I step inside the foyer. I treat myself to a greedy inhale while spinning in a slow circle. It’s easy to envision this as home.
The floor plan is mostly open with only two half walls bisecting the large living area. I scan the collection of included pieces staged thoughtfully. A deep-seat couch sits under the large bay window, framed by two matching chairs in a similar shade. Those neutral hues complement the bold colors of the rugs and accents. A wood dining table rests at an angle near the opposite wall, waiting for the evening meal to be served. It all fits together in an understated manner, as if the entire setup were created specifically for this house. The decorations are minimal, those final details left for me to make the space mine. With a few personal touches, this could easily be my refuge.
Furnished rentals are somewhat of a myth. Finding one is another rare treasure I’m fortunate enough to have as part of this deal. The eclectic array of items appear to be in good condition. What the owner provided gives the room a warm, cozy feel that wraps around me like a comforting hug. This is exactly what I need after making the move to a strange town on my own.
A short walk through the kitchen reminds me that a grocery run is a top priority. I wander down the short hall to the master bedroom. As requested, they left this space mostly bare-bones. Only a plastic-wrapped mattress and solo dresser adorn the area. I packed my entire back seat to the roof with stuff that will fill this empty square. But hauling all those mementos and belongings inside can wait.
I flop onto the crinkly bed with a squeal. My very own place. Extrovert or not, I need this change of pace. Growing up with four siblings didn’t lead to a lot of privacy. My roommates in college were often is very near proximity. I always thrived on those static bundles of combined energy, but conquering the unknown is the name of this challenge. When will I get a better opportunity to live alone? The answer is never.
So, it’s official. I’m no longer a resident of a big city. That thought doesn’t hold the same quake it did this morning, quite the opposite as a low hum buzzes under my skin. The flutters in my stomach chime in, and I grin at the giddy sensation. I’m here, ready, and surprisingly eager. The truth rattles against my ribs with a long exhale. Planting myself in the heart of farm country isn’t daunting at all.