6. Felicity
felicity
This town never changes, and yet, as I walk through the streets of my hometown, it is completely different than what it was like when I was growing up.
Life in a bigger city, where I was surrounded by people who wanted to use my fame to climb their own personal ladders, changed a lot about who I was.
I was no longer open to every single person I met.
I was closed off from most, hiding to get away from what I thought were people who would always stab me in the back.
It was a sad life, one I have next to no desire to get back to.
I take in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air, welcoming the slight sting of coolness that’s settling in over the mountain as fall covers it. School is back in session, work has resumed, and summer is now gone.
It is my favorite time of year.
One that holds memories of getting excited for things to come. School dances and Halloween, seeing friends at school all the time, and going out for bonfires when the weather wasn’t too bad.
Holidays are on their way with cozy mornings curled up next to a fire while reading a book, playing guitar, or writing music.
I smile at just the thought of it.
As I walk, I think about what’s going to come for me.
What did I want?
I want people to respect me and my music. I want to not be a stepping stone for people to use to get their own fame.
What did I want?
I want a safe home, one that is filled with love and comfort. One that I want to come home to every day instead of the one that I dread returning to.
What did I want?
I want love and affection from someone who really cares about me. Not the kind that’s faked, not the kind that’s staged for its own agenda. Real, genuine love that can’t be bought.
My eyes catch on a house at the far end of the block.
It’s shaded by two big maple trees on either side of a long sidewalk that leads to the front door.
The leaves on the trees are starting to turn a vibrant red.
There’s a driveway to the side that’s concrete and needs repaired.
The siding on the house is missing pieces, and the front door is partially held up by plywood.
I glance from it to the little sign out front and grab my phone, a plan taking shape.
“Are you sure about this?” I glance at Graham Trevors, one of the boys I knew growing up. We weren’t really friends, considering I was a bit younger than he was, but he was CT’s older brother, someone I had known because he dated Dani, one of my best friends.
“I’m sure.” I grin as we walk through the house. The carpet is musty and old, the walls are filthy, and some even need replacing.
I watch Graham inspect the house as he makes his way through it. He is the town’s handyman, but I know through the rumor mill that he’s fixed up a house or two, and I know I can trust him to be discrete about it.
“It’s going to take a few weeks.” He tilts his head to the side, inspecting something on the wall. “We’ll need to get a mold inspector up here too.”
“Mold?”
Graham looks over at me, concern on his features. “You didn’t have any inspections done, huh?”
I shake my head, a swirl of regret rising in me. “I bought it cash, as is.”
He nods. “I see.” There wasn’t any kind of condensation from him in the way he said it, but I could tell he thought I was crazy.
“I know it seems silly, but I saw it and couldn’t resist. I think I could make it homey.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we can.” He shrugs. “But…”
He trails off as if not sure how to say what he wants, and I lift a brow. “I mean, it’s no secret who you are now, Felicity,” he says, running a hand over his beard. “Why not just buy something new? Or get something built?”
I bite my lip, unsure how to explain it without giving everything away. “I’m not sure I have enough time to build from scratch.”
For a moment, he watches me carefully before he lets out a slow breath and brings his clipboard up again. “All right. Well, let’s make some lists.”
“Really?” I clasp my hands together under my chin, hope written all over my face. “You’ll take it on?”
He grins, and it reminds me of his brother. “Yeah, I’ll help you get it in good shape.”
I smile broadly, wanting to hug him but unsure if he would be open to that and take a step back, letting him work while I start to dream about what kind of life I can build for myself here. For us here.
For the first time since I got off the plane and stepped foot back into town, I was finally feeling like everything was coming together. I felt that kernel of hope pop, that first initial step of going in the right direction and doing something for myself for the first time in forever.
Maybe, just maybe, I was going to succeed here.