Lessons in Love

1. Kelsey

Chapter one

Kelsey

I looked over my shoulder one last time before entering the ticket office at the Yellowjacket bus terminal, half expecting to see my husband lurking between the bright yellow buses parked there. Ex-husband , I corrected myself in my head. The word made me both scared and relieved at the same time.

The only people waiting at the bus terminal were an elderly black woman and two teenagers with backpacks—no Ryan in sight. I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Ryan wasn’t on to me yet. If nothing unforeseen had happened, he shouldn’t notice I was gone for at least four more hours, when he would come home from work and find our prim little suburban house in Reno, empty.

Maybe I should feel guilty for leaving my husband of thirteen years without an explanation, but it had to happen like this. If I’d told him I was leaving him, he would’ve somehow managed to stop me. Ryan had that weird power over me. He always found ways to make me do things I didn’t want to do.

But Ryan wasn’t here. I was on my own, completely on my own after years of smothering, and if this whole leave-your-husband business was going to work, I had to get as far away from Reno and Ryan as possible, as fast as possible.

Motivated by that thought, I stepped through the glass sliding door and approached the counter, where a middle-aged woman with thick-rimmed glasses greeted me.

“Welcome. Where to?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere but here will do.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “You need to be a bit more specific than this.”

I shrugged. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Okay, good for you, but my computer does not accept ‘out of here’ as a valid destination. If you want to buy a ticket, you need to pick a destination.” She gestured toward a large map on the opposite wall. “Take a look. Maybe you’ll find something that strikes your fancy.”

I looked at the map, covered in green dots and yellow lines. “The buses go anywhere on that map?”

“You might have to switch buses a couple of times, but yes, Yellowjacket buses service all those places marked on the map."

I let my eyes wander. One of these towns would be my future, but I’d never lived anywhere but Reno, and I had no idea what might await me behind all those colored dots. “I’ll just leave it up to fate,” I said, mostly to myself.

I closed my eyes and blindly let my finger hover over the map. Fate hadn’t been too kind to me so far in my life, but maybe I would be luckier this time. With a deep breath, I pointed at the map and opened my eyes.

“And? What does fate have in mind for you?” the Yellowjacket lady asked with a look of curiosity.

I read the label on the dot closest to my index finger. “Brightwater.” I leaned back a bit to get the whole picture. “Oregon.”

“Are you happy with that? ”

Oregon—that was pretty far from Nevada.

“It will work,” I announced. “I want to go to Brightwater, Oregon, please.”

The woman nodded enthusiastically and typed on her keyboard. “You are in luck. The next bus in that direction leaves in about forty minutes. Two transfers. Overall travel time is twenty-nine hours and seventeen minutes. You even get Wi-Fi on the bus. That will be 243 dollars and 97 cents.”

I took out my wallet. “Can I pay in cash?”

Twenty-nine hours felt like an eternity to be alone with my thoughts. I watched the landscape transition from dusty Nevada desert to barren plains. Along the way, we passed through and stopped at dozens of cities. At the start of the journey, I paid attention, taking in the sights of cities I’d never visited before. But after hours of traveling, they all started to blend together. I kept checking my phone. It turned three o’clock, four o’clock, and then five o’clock, but my phone screen remained empty—no calls, no messages, nothing. Ryan must have been home by then. He must have noticed my absence, so I didn’t understand why he wasn’t calling me, panicked or at least pissed off, demanding to know where I was and why dinner wasn’t ready.

Long after nightfall, I finally drifted off into an uneasy , crammed into my bus seat, with the snoring of the middle-aged women next to me, droning in my ear. When I woke up, just in time for the sunrise, the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest greeted me. I looked out the window and took in the view as the bus rolled past snowy mountain ranges and dark-green pine forests. It was so different from Nevada. I’d never been to this part of the country, not even close, but this would become my new home, in another eight hours or so.

The picturesque sights only made me long for the end of the journey even more. My back was stiff from sitting in the bus seat for so long, my stomach was grumbling because the sandwiches I had hastily packed when I left my marital home had long been eaten, and I felt so grimy that I wanted to shower for at least an hour. Eight more hours of this did not seem appealing, but at the same time, it meant eight more hours of distance between me and Ryan, and that could only be a good thing. I could do this. I could power through a little discomfort in exchange for the chance at a fresh start.

Around ten o’clock, we reached Stenton, the last major city stop on the route to Brightwater. I had to transfer buses there, and when I staggered off the bus into the bustling terminal, stretching my painfully stiff limbs, I considered just abandoning the Brightwater plan to stay here, in Stenton, instead. From what I could see, this city looked as good as the next one. Surely, I could find an apartment and a job and build a new life here.

But fate had sent me to Brightwater, and one should never mess with fate, right? And besides, I’d already paid for the full journey. It would be a shame to let those dollars go to waste.

I bought a few snacks and a bottle of soda at a vending machine, found the bus that was named on my ticket, and climbed in. My phone remained stubbornly silent. I’d been gone the whole night, and Ryan had still not tried to contact me. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or offended. Probably relieved . This was what I’d wanted, after all, was it not?

But the closer I got to my final destination, the more my nerves fluttered. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got there, a town I’d never been to, where I knew no one. With no place to live, no job lined up, and very little money to get the ball rolling, I would have to figure it out somehow. It would be an uphill battle, but at least I would be free—free of belittlement and manipulation and constant control. Free . I kept repeating the word in my head like a mantra until the soft hum of the bus and pure exhaustion made me drift into a restless sleep.

Someone was nudging my side. I pushed the hand away, too tired to care. Ryan could make his own breakfast for once in his life.

Another nudge came, harder this time. “Miss, I think this is your stop.”

I awoke with a start. Awareness of where I was and why I was here came back with force. The woman next to me was looking at me expectantly. “You said you wanted to go to Brightwater, right? Well, this is Brightwater.”

“Oh. Oh, thank you!” I jumped up from my seat and yanked my backpack out of the overhead luggage compartment. Cursing loudly, I hurried down the aisle and leaped out the door just as the bus driver was starting the engine back up.

Phew, that was a close call. Not a good start to my new life. I nearly slept through my call of fate.

I took a deep breath, taking in my surroundings. So, this was Brightwater.

I’d looked the town up on Wikipedia during the long, boring hours on the bus. Brightwater was next to Brightwater Lake, population of 11,348. Well, it was 11,349, counting the newest resident: me.

The town had one high school, one middle school, and three elementary schools. It had seven parks and a fairground. The Brightwater Tribune was published weekly. A bus line went through it, connecting it to its neighboring cities, Lakeview, Richmond, and the largest city in the area, Stenton.

I looked around, searching for street signs, trying to orient myself.

Apparently, I was standing on the curb of the main street. Well-kept historical buildings, housing small shops, lined up. There was a bookstore, a flower shop, a bakery, and a small cafe with outdoor tables. Farther back was a large building with a white facade, probably the town hall. Behind the buildings, I could see a large lake, dark-blue water glistening in the afternoon sun—Brightwater Lake.

In the distance, steep peaks and rolling hills covered in lush forest provided a beautiful backdrop for this charming little town. A breeze blew through my hair, carrying the smell of pines and lake water, earthy and fresh.

The town was so picturesque that I felt I’d stepped into a postcard come to life. Brightwater was so different from the sun-baked deserts of Nevada that I felt like the bus had dropped me off on an alien planet.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me that this was all, in fact, real. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and set off. First order of business: finding something to eat.

I didn’t have to search long. Just around a corner, I found a diner looking like it came straight out of a fifties teen musical. The red sign over the entrance said Liberty Diner & Grill.

Perfect . Something greasy and high calorie was exactly what I needed right then.

As soon as I stepped inside, heads turned, and I felt a dozen pair of eyes on me. Their faces were friendly, but they’d immediately identified me as a stranger—that much was clear.

I ducked my head and sat down at the nearest free table.

A black teenager with a notepad in his hands and a pencil in his pocket approached me .

“Welcome to Liberty Diner & Grill,” he said with little enthusiasm. “Do you want to order right away, or do you need a menu?” His eyes were scanning me, from my unwashed hair to my dusty sneakers. Maybe it was vanity, but I wished I didn’t look like a hobo on my first day in Brightwater. First impressions mattered, and I noticed a hint of pity in the waiter’s eyes, as if he could tell I’d had a rough couple of days.

“Um… can you recommend something?”

“If you order a bacon burger with fries, you’ll get a milkshake in the flavor of your choice for half the price.”

“Do you have strawberry?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then I’ll take the bacon burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake, please.”

Not bothering to use his pencil to note down my order, he just nodded. “Right away, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, he returned and put a platter with a juicy-looking burger and a large glass of pink milkshake down in front of me. The only thing I’d eaten for the last one-and-a-half days was a soggy peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a Twinkie from the vending machine in Stenton.

I practically devoured the burger, suppressing a moan of pleasure with every bite, stuffing fries in my mouth as fast as I could. After emptying the milkshake in one go, I felt a whole lot better about the world and my place in it. It had been ages since I’d last eaten a proper burger. Ryan was very health conscious and had been super picky about the food I was allowed to cook for us. Great for my cholesterol, but some situations just required a big fat juicy piece of meat. And a lot of cheese.

Leaving the guy I’d spent most of my adult life with was definitely one of those situations, and Brightwater had delivered .

Collecting the last crumbs of fries from my plate, I considered my next move. I needed a place to stay, quickly or even better, right away because I couldn’t afford to pay for a hotel room for very long.

The young waiter came back to clear my table. “Everything good?”

“Amazing,” I said.

He picked up my plate and my glass. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Brand new. Hopped off the bus less than an hour ago.”

“Ah, welcome to Brightwater, then. Where are you staying?”

“Still a little unsure about that part,” I admitted. “But I’m open to suggestions.”

“The Cascadia Bed and Breakfast is pretty nice, but it’s a bit on the pricier side.” He gave me a quick glance and seemed to determine correctly that I was not the pricy type. “You could try the Holiday Inn if you need something cheaper.”

“I’m actually looking for something a little more… permanent.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Permanent? You want to live here?”

“That’s the plan.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Why would anyone want to live here? The place is dead, unless you consider the annual county fair entertaining. The only people who move here are retirees and college dropouts moving back in with their parents. What on earth do you want here?”

“I…” Telling people I’d picked out my new hometown by closing my eyes and pointing at a map in a Yellowjacket ticket booth might make me look a little crazy. “Let’s just say it’s a long story.”

He shrugged. “You’ve been warned. If you want to rent, try the Sunset Apartments. Ask for Arlene. She has a collection of strays there.”

“Strays,” I repeated. “Sounds like my type of place.”

“Wait a second. I’ll ask my dad if he has her phone number. Be right back.”