Chapter 37
Sitting on my couch, the jubilant feeling of victory has disappeared. It’s been replaced by a hollow what-have-I-done feeling as I scroll through my bank accounts, seeing how much I have left.
I’m not going to starve immediately. But it was undoubtedly reckless.
I’ve been clinging to that job for dear life for such a long time, it’s terrifying to suddenly be cut loose.
But—I pause in my mental calculations—I can take my expensive Seattle rent out of the equation.
Which means the little money I have will last a bit longer.
Because that was part of this decision. (Maybe epiphany would be a better word, since most of the decision-making was subconscious.) Leaving my job means I can leave Seattle. For real this time.
Just because I’ve lived somewhere my entire life doesn’t mean it’s home.
Living here these past few years, I’ve been anonymous, overlooked, superfluous, and many variations on the word lonely .
Living in Reina Beach for just a month, I felt seen, important, needed.
My life felt fuller, and it wasn’t even my real life. But it could be.
I’ve been thinking of myself as a coward for such a long time.
Maybe it started with the way I ghosted Alex instead of breaking up with him properly, or maybe it started years earlier when I got rejected from law school and couldn’t bring myself to apply again.
And I know that staying with a job I hated just for the paycheck was a sensible financial decision—but I also realize now that it was cowardly.
And I’m shedding that part of myself. I’m ready to be brave.
It turns out that breaking up with your life is easier than you might expect.
The first call I make is to my landlord.
I expect him to tell me I’ll have to find a sub-leaser to finish out my lease, but as it happens he’s happy for me to leave so that he can list my unit at what he calls “current market rates.” Yikes.
I contemplate getting a storage unit for my stuff—just in case—but decide I don’t want a fallback option.
I want a fresh start. So I list my prized possessions online for sale at dirt-cheap prices, hoping they’ll sell quickly.
It works. I spend the next three days letting strangers carry off my furniture in exchange for a Venmo transaction.
I keep two boxes’ worth of stuff I don’t want to part with—my favorite mugs, blankets, art prints, gadgets—to ship across the country to Gramps’s condo.
The clothes and shoes and personal items that I’m keeping, I’ll stuff into my two suitcases.
By the end of the week, my place is all packed up.
Even my bed is gone, so I spend my last night at Mom and Dad’s.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mom keeps asking. “Florida is so far away. It’s so hot. And so… Republican.”
I give her a sardonic stare over my toothbrush. This is the third or fourth time she’s given me this spiel today. I spit out toothpaste and wipe my mouth.
“I’m sure. Like I’ve said a hundred times.”
“And what are you going to do for work? I can ask Trish if she has any leads.”
I consider this as I zip up my toiletries bag.
“I was thinking of asking Ellie if her ice cream shop is hiring. Could be an easy gig while I figure out what I want to do next.”
Mom whimpers and covers her mouth with her fingertips.
“Mom. Please.”
“You don’t really want to work at an ice cream shop, do you? You don’t want to get too comfortable there and forget to, you know, go back to your real career.”
“What career?”
“Technology!”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m not going back to tech. I never really liked it.”
“But…” Mom stands behind me, smoothing my hair and staring mournfully at my reflection in the mirror.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m never going to be a lawyer like Maeve and… all of you. I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I’m still me. And I’ll figure it out.”
I can sense that she wants to keep arguing her case, but apparently she decides to save it for another day.
“At least I know Gramps will be happy to have you back. Was he thrilled when you told him?”
I freeze. The thing is, I haven’t exactly told Gramps.
I thought about it; after all, there’s probably some type of etiquette around informing someone before you show up to crash at their place.
But ultimately, I decided that I don’t make huge, life-changing decisions often—this might be the only one in my entire life—so I want to have some fun with it.
Make a grand gesture. It’s fun to imagine the look of stunned delight on Gramps’s face when I show up unannounced.
Even if he doesn’t normally like surprises, I know he’ll like this one.
But I know my mom wouldn’t find it cute; she would make me call him first. In fact, she would probably freak out at the idea that I’ve packed up my whole life here without even okaying it with the person I’m going to live with.
“Yeah,” I lie. “Thrilled.”
Mom turns suddenly emotional, her eyes filling with tears as she smiles and touches my cheek. “You’re a good daughter, Mallory. And a very sweet granddaughter.”
“Thanks.” My voice is muffled as she squeezes me to her.
“I’m going to visit all the time.”
“Good.”
“I’ll let you get some sleep. We’re leaving for the airport bright and early.”
I say good night and then shut the door to my childhood room, now a guest room slash my dad’s sports-themed man cave.
Despite the clutter of sports paraphernalia, and despite the fact that I’ll be waking up to jump into a whole new life, I drop quickly into the heavy sleep of someone with no regrets.
I arrive in Tampa at five P.M. and pay for a taxi to take me to Sandy Shores.
This time, instead of brutal afternoon sun beating down on the freeway, there’s a purplish-gray sky crackling with lightning and distant rumbles of thunder.
It feels electric, hot, and steamy, so different from the place I left behind.
I drag my two suitcases across the grassy lawn.
In the stormy light, the gazebo glows bright white.
As the rain starts—deceivingly gentle at first, but I know it’ll be pounding down soon—I gaze across the beach at the choppy waves, filling my lungs with salty air.
This is home now. I get to jump in those waves tomorrow morning, and every morning if I feel like it.
I take the elevator to Gramps’s floor and knock gently on his door before realizing that it’s unlocked.
“Helloooo,” I say quietly, suddenly worried about giving him a heart attack. “Gramps? It’s Mallory!”
I hear a happy bark and rush into the kitchen to greet Wally.
I’m on my knees scratching behind his ears before I realize that Gramps is sitting at the kitchen table, and that he’s not alone.
Angela sits across from him, and the table is laid with a tablecloth and the remnants of dinner, with two taper candles flickering between them. Flickering romantically .
“Oh my gosh.” I stumble back to my feet. “I’m interrupting!”
“Mallory!” Gramps breaks into the huge smile I’d imagined he would have when I showed up. “What are you doing here?”
Angela is bustling around, telling me to sit down, pouring me a glass of water, microwaving me a plate of food before I can say a word.
“I’m—” I’m finding it impossible to say, Surprise, I’m back to live with you! in the midst of this development. “Really, I’m so sorry to interrupt, I’ll just—”
“Please!” Angela slides the plate in front of me, along with a fork and knife. “It’s wonderful to see you. Now tell us, what brings you back?” She sits back down and refills her own glass from a pitcher of water with ice and lemon slices floating in it.
“I…” What do I say now? I’m here to stay? I’m here to permanently cramp your style? “I’m moving to Florida.”
“Wonderful!” Gramps looks like he really means it. I smile back at him.
We don’t address the fact that I obviously crashed a date. The conversation flows easily as I devour Angela’s cooking—some kind of slow-cooked meat and potatoes. Gramps asks me about my “computer job” and looks proud when I tell him that I quit.
“My son owns a snorkel company,” Angela says instantly, “and he’s always hiring. Instructors, salespeople, and I think he’s looking for someone to do their website. Let me give him a call.”
I thank her and put a hand on hers to stop her from grabbing her phone. “Maybe tomorrow.”
She nods graciously and then fills me in on some funny retirement village gossip.
Gramps and I never had a problem finding things to talk about, but the conversation is certainly lively with Angela in the mix.
After I eat, I clean up as much as they’ll let me, and then I tell them that I’m tired and going to get ready for bed.
This is not strictly true, seeing as how it’s barely five P.M. Seattle time.
But I’m determined to give them some privacy.
After I shower and settle into the seashell bed to start a new TV show—I’m all out of Outlander episodes—I start to have some misgivings.
I mean, clearly Gramps is trying to start a new phase of his life here.
I never thought he would be able to move on from Lottie, and I’m delighted for him.
There’s no way I’m going to stick around to doom his budding romance.
I try to focus on this episode of Ted Lasso , but I can hear the low voices of Gramps and Angela in the other room, and I can’t shake the awkwardness of feeling like I’m intruding.
And then it hits me—like, how did I not think of this before?
—I have a house. I literally have my own house, a couple of miles away from here, empty, waiting for someone to live in it. Waiting for me.