Chapter 55
Scarlett
It’s hard to know that you’re in a low point, while you’re still in the low point. It took me that conversation with the girls and the whole car ride home for me to realize that I didn’t lie to Kenzie when I said yes.
I’ve spent my life faking confidence and feeling like I was rocking this life thing.
I was a top journalist at a wildly popular magazine.
I was good at my job and for years I thought that was all I needed.
That was enough to satisfy me in life. Until Valerie came along and ruined the thing I loved most in life.
But, was it Valerie’s fault? I try to remember when I started using Zillow as an escape avenue.
When I started following sourdough making accounts on social media.
Now that I really think about it, I started doing all of that long before Valerie took over.
She just made it unbearable enough for me to take the leap. Maybe I should thank her.
When I arrive home I take in the little cottage I now call home.
Jake helped me put a new coat of paint on her and she sits there in a beautiful forest green with the same black shutters.
I’ve replaced most everything that was broken and repainted every room inside to feel like mine.
The sun is starting it’s decent behind the little house and the warm air moves slightly around me.
It’s one of those magical evenings that makes you just want to sit on a porch swing and thank whatever higher power you believe in that you get to witness it.
Instead of going inside I walk to the gate of the fence and check on the animals I’ve left behind for the day.
The chicks aren’t chicks anymore. They’re full grown and will probably start laying in the next month or so.
Pedro sees me pop inside the door and runs full force to greet me.
He crows at my feet and closes his eyes when I scratch his little head.
I close the door to the run and make sure they’re all tucked in tight inside the coop.
Penny is resting inside her pen. Her due date is right around the corner and while I am absolutely terrified to help her give birth, I know that Jake will be there to help me.
Just like he did with the house, and just like he did with her pen.
A peek inside the greenhouse and I’m greeted with the humidity levels that plants feed off of.
Almost every raised bed has tiny green sprouts shooting up out of the dark topsoil.
I am officially surrounded by new life and it suddenly brings a tear to my eye.
And that is what brings me to the realization that this life is feeding my soul while my old life was draining it.
Very rarely in my journalism career did I follow a story that breathed hope into the world.
Most of the things I reported on were politics, scandals, breaking news reports on war, death, violence, and devastating natural disasters.
I try hard to recall a happy story that I reported on.
One that after I left the interview I felt renewed.
The only thing I can come up with is a fluff piece that I wasn’t even supposed to work on.
It was supposed to be Jeff’s piece but then his daughter got pneumonia and he was out of the office for a few weeks.
We all worked together at taking over his articles while he was gone.
The piece I was given was a story about the local high school bus driver who had secretly been acting as a father figure to students who didn’t have that at home.
He used his paychecks to buy students supplies, clothing, shoes, and whatever else they were missing because of their home life.
Apparently he did it for years until one student who had been a recipient of his kindness ended up being class president.
In his graduation speech he talked all about the gracious spirit of that bus driver and how it reshaped his life. After that the story went viral.
One uplifting story in my near decade of being a journalist and it wasn’t even supposed to be mine.
It’s no wonder I became a cynic over the years.
Believing the worst in people. Giving up on the idea of true love.
Giving up on the idea that people were inherently good.
Those things simply didn’t exist in the world I lived in.
No wonder I had grown tired and longed for this simple but hard life I was now living.
It has been weeks since I’ve used my anxiety medicine.
Sleep comes easier, and I reach for energy drinks less.
Outside of the greenhouse I watch the sky turn into strings of cotton candy.
The only clouds in the sky lay in strips over top of the mountain turning various shades of pink as the pale blue sky above me begins to darken.
In a few hours I’ll be able to see the constellations in the sky, along with a million other stars I never even knew were there.
Valentine is a dark sky community meaning it protects the sky from light pollution as much as possible.
There are no street lights, no big businesses in town and even the small ones close early so that when nighttime comes, the stars can be appreciated from all over town.
I’ve seen pictures of the sky and the stars in it but not until I moved here have I seen the magnificent view of the milky way with my own eyes.
It’s funny how moving from a city that’s tall, bright, busy and loud to a small community that’s dark and quiet can change your perspective.
Make you feel small. Make it feel like the world is so much bigger than your individual problems. And somehow, that feeling of being small makes your problems feel smaller too.
It makes you see the big picture for what it is.
And how this life is so much bigger than money, debt, and status.
When all you worry about is keeping yourself and your animals alive, it shows you what’s ultimately important.
“Hey there gorgeous.” Jake is walking over from his place and I wipe the stray tears from my eyes before I meet his.
He looks so good in a plain white t-shirt that hugs every toned muscle in his chest and arms, his faded blue jeans holding on by a thread around the knees.
His dark hair looks a little shorter, showing a little more of the gray around his temples and my favorite thing is the laugh lines around his eyes that show when he smiles at me.
Without having to think about it, I smile back.
My voice isn’t strong enough to greet him with words but I open my arms as he steps closer and he knows to walk right into them and wrap me up.
“You okay?” he asks. His voice is concerned but I know from experience that he won’t push if I don’t want to talk about it.
“I’m great,” I say, testing my voice. It comes out a little wobbly and I repeat the words as I pull back from him.
Tears still brim in my eyes, threatening to fall.
“I’m great. These are happy tears. The hens are tucked in, Penny is asleep, and there are sprouts growing in the greenhouse.
The sun is setting, painting a beautiful sky and the stars will be amazing tonight like they are most nights.
And it’s all just beautiful.” I lean back into his chest as the tears finally take their plunge.
Against my ear is the steady beat of Jake’s heart.
The thump thump thump calms me as I take a deep breath, breathing in that cedar smell that I’ve come to know and love.
His flat hand is rubbing circles on my back and another tear falls in joy as I realize I am no longer in my low point.
While the feminist in me won’t say that Jake is the sole reason for that, I will say that I’m glad he has been a part of this rise.
“I think when it boils down to it, everything you just said is what has kept me here all these years. It’s hard work and some days it feels frustrating that the work will simply never be done, but on nights like these, I know without a doubt that I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
” His voice is calm, soothing. He adds in his agreement and his experience without taking anything away from mine.
He doesn’t try to shush me or ask me to stop crying.
He lets me feel this feeling and reassures me that he’s here and he understands.
I am absolutely no longer at my low point anymore.