Chapter 2
I JUST ABOUT STARTED STREAKING DOWN MAIN STREET WITH EXCITEMENT.
Scottie
Apparently, “one hour” is road trip math for “forever.”
It’s funny how it can feel like forever when I’m the one behind the wheel on a trip that could change my life.
The road feels endless and like a dark tunnel of trees, even though I know the sun is shining on the other side.
About twenty minutes ago, I was convinced that the road was just some cruel loop designed to trap me.
As soon as I’m ready to pull over and call my dad to ask if I’m even headed in the right direction, the road opens up and the trees part almost like a curtain.
I pull myself closer to the steering wheel, taking it all in.
Bright blue paints the sky while mountains sit in the distance.
I almost laugh, because after a ride that felt like eternity, this feels worth the wait.
A lake off to the left comes into view, and it’s so perfect that it doesn’t look real.
That’s when I see the sign I’ve been waiting for.
Welcome to Bluestone Lakes.
I inhale and exhale, tightening my grip as I steer the car straight down the single-lane highway. “This is it,” I whisper. “This is where I decide what I’m doing going forward.”
A smile forms involuntarily.
My dad showed me as many pictures as he could find of my grandmother’s house to prepare me before I left.
They were outdated, but I could still see the bones of something beautiful.
I emailed the producers immediately after and told them the location of the property and included some pictures that he showed me. They approved everything within hours.
My dad pulled out all the old photos he could find, telling me stories about my grandmother and a few of the memories I had forgotten along the way.
I asked him why we stopped going there. He didn’t say much, but that there was a falling out years ago.
Mostly between my mom and my grandmother.
Something that never fully healed before Millie passed away.
He didn’t offer more than that, and I didn’t push.
But the way his voice softened when he changed conversation told me everything I needed to know.
He quickly went into telling me all the ways Mimi Millie wanted the house to shine again. How it felt dull when my grandpa died. The light went out inside the home and never came back on.
And I knew right then and there that I want to make it shine again.
For her.
And for me?
I can’t say for sure because I don’t know what the future holds for me. I can’t seem to remember a single thing about this town or if I can see myself staying here when the project is over. I’d love a place to call my own—a place where I can just…be.
Another sign that reads Welcome to the Heart of Bluestone Lakes comes into view, and I scan the area for a large tree and a bench my dad told me to look for.
When I find it, I see the mystery woman named Nan sitting with one leg crossed over the other.
She honestly looks the same as I had imagined from how my dad explained her to me: short white hair, tiny frame, and retro-style glasses.
Just looking at her through the front window of my car, I already know she’s a total vibe wearing a pair of hot pink, straight-leg jeans with a loose white T-shirt tucked in.
Pulling my car off to the side, I exit and round the hood of my car and make my way to where she sits. “Hey. Do you happen to be Nan?”
She smiles. “Normally, this is where I give some smart-ass response to someone lookin’ for me, but not today.” She smiles widely, looking me up and down. “You’ve grown up so much.”
Tipping my head to the side, I study her, trying to see if I can remember her.
She waves me off. “You wouldn’t remember me. You were about three feet tall last time you were here to visit Millie.”
“You knew my grandmother?”
She stands from the bench and meets me where I stand.
“I did. She was one of my best friends here in town. And when Billy called me up and told me they finally told you about your inheritance and that you’re coming to fix up the place, I just about started streaking down Main Street with excitement.
” I press a hand over my face to hide my giggle.
“But I thought better of it. I heard people pay big money to see a pair of tits online these days. I can’t risk someone taking a video to give out for free. ” She winks and retreats toward my car.
She’s definitely a total vibe.
“Get in,” she says, waving from the passenger side of my car. “Let me show you the place.”
I hesitate for half a second, because letting a woman I barely know get into my car feels wildly out of character for me. But I guess today is about doing things I normally wouldn’t do.
I jog to my driver’s side and get in quickly.
“What’s with the plastic cup of green and yellow candy?” Nan asks, buckling her seat belt.
I chuckle. “I only eat the red, blue, and orange Sour Patch Kids. I have an aversion to the green and yellow ones for some reason. You’re welcome to them if you’d like.”
She reaches in and pops a yellow in her mouth. “They all taste the same to me.”
She’s wrong, but okay.
Nan guides me with a mix of lefts and rights—she’s not good at it. She seems to tell me at the last second to turn, which has only made this drive feel very erratic.
I can feel my stomach twist as we get closer. Not from car sickness, but from a mix of nerves and curiosity. Every corner we take I wonder if it’s the street, or if the roof will peek out from behind the trees.
What if it ends up being bigger than anything I’m capable of?
What if I can’t pull it off the way everyone expects me to?
That’s the part that scares me.
We make another right on a street called Redwood Ave. when Nan finally points through the window at an open lot coming into view. “This is it on the left.”
When I pass the row of trees lining the edge of the property, my car slows to a stop in the middle of the road as I stare.
“Best views in town,” Nan adds.
I swallow, suddenly overwhelmed by how real this just became.
A two-story farmhouse looms at the end of a long gravel driveway, hidden between wild grass that claws around the edges, mixed with weeds and wildflowers as if they are locked in some kind of messy battle for dominance over the property.
I put my car in park, unable to take my eyes away from the view in front of me as I exit and start to make my way up the driveway—if that’s what you even want to call it anymore.
The closer I get, the more I see the paint peeling in strips from the side as if it’s shedding its own skin.
The windows are clouded over with age with an old wooden frame and paint cracked around the edges.
There’s a mix of crooked and missing shutters, and a porch sagging just enough to make me hesitate to even step foot on it.
To anyone else, it probably looks like a burden.
To me?
It looks like potential.
“The house isn’t livable right now,” Nan says behind me, cutting through my thoughts.
I turn around to face her, not realizing she’s following me closer to the house.
“I assumed so,” I reply, reaching for my phone in my back pocket. “I think I have an email somewhere in my inbox about them handling lodging.”
Swiping through all my never ending emails, I finally find it. Only to feel my entire body tense because I never replied back to the email from them asking if I needed a place, or if I was finding my own.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I look up at Nan. “I know it’s kind of last minute, but do you know where I can find a place to stay in town? I never replied back to them about lodging.”
“The film crew took up all our rentals and the few bed and breakfasts we have in town.” She pauses, but she must register my disappointment.
“I thought that might be an issue and have already made some calls. I have a friend who was nice enough to let you stay in his house. He has a small apartment over his garage that he’s going to stay in while you film. ”
“Oh no,” I say, waving my hands. “I can’t do that, Nan. I can stay in the garage apartment since I’m the one who messed this up. And maybe tomorrow when I meet the team at the house, they can squeeze me in somewhere with them.”
She shrugs. “I’ll tell him, but I think he’s going to insist.”
I force a smile, but a quiet, familiar shame curls in my gut. The kind that whispers I should’ve planned better. I should have responded to the email immediately. I should admit now that I can’t handle things on my own.
“I just don’t want to put anyone out. Please.”
She nods. “I’ll talk to him. Let me take you there to get settled.”
We walk back toward my car, still parked in the road. Thank god it’s not a busy road, otherwise I would have made a solid first impression as the girl who just leaves her car in the middle of the road.
I turn around one more time, taking in the home where my grandmother used to live, and smile to myself. “I’m going to make it shine for you, Millie,” I whisper to the wind and get back in the driver’s seat.
Thankfully, the place I’ll be staying is only one turn away on a street right off Redwood Ave., so it was a much less erratic drive with Nan and her terrible delivery of directions from the passenger seat.
“Here,” Nan says, pointing to a house on the right tucked away into the trees.
This time, I pull into the driveway leading to the house.
The gravel is cracked and moss-dotted, like no one’s paid attention to it in years.
I scan the open space and see the driveway is wide, with one side leading to the home, and the other to the detached garage with the apartment over the top, half hidden by trees.
I refuse to let the owner of this home uproot his life for me.
I will be staying in this apartment.
Once I get out of the car, I look around.
It’s a cozy place—tucked away off the road.
The main home isn’t flashy, but you can tell it’s well built.
It’s a small craftsman-style home with weathered wood siding and a low, inviting porch.
The porch is swept clean, but the rocking chair, withered flowers, and muddy boots by the door show he doesn’t care about appearances.
Nan holds out her hand. “Here are the keys to the garage apartment or loft, whatever you kids call it these days. I can’t make promises about him kickin’ you out of there to stay in the house. He’s persistent and a gentleman like that.”
I take the keys from her. Looking down, I roll them around in my hand, feeling the cold metal in my palm.
“You should know…he works a lot and he’s gone most of the day. If you need anything, you can call me.”
She hands me what appears to be a business card. I take it, narrowing my eyes when I notice it’s nothing but her name, phone number, and a note that says I don’t know how to email.
“Thank you. I really appreciate all of this.”
“Anytime.” She nods, placing a hand on my shoulder. “One more thing you should know about this town is that we look out for each other.”
I smile, acknowledging her words.
But deep down, they sting.
Due to my commitment to making everything work out on social media, and the fact that I’m swamped, I don’t have friends who look out for me, and vice versa.
I’ve always kept to myself because the few I’ve made along the way have been surface level and only needed me when they needed something.
I have no idea what it’s like to have people outside of my immediate family look out for me, and even then, I sometimes wonder if my mom has my best interest at heart.
Just as I’m headed toward the stairs that lead to the apartment, I turn around again. “Hey, do you need a ride somewhere? I just realized I drove you here.”
She waves me off, keeping her back to me. “Walking’s good for ya. Don’t you worry about me, Scottie.”
I laugh as she walks away, looking down at the keys in my hand again, and then make my way up the stairs.
The staircase groans under my sneakers, each step telling me this is definitely not the chic loft I was envisioning.
When I get to the door and turn the lock, I attempt to push it open, but it’s stuck.
With a few shoves using my full body weight, it finally swings open.
The apartment is dark and smells faintly of old pine and stale air.
Flicking the light on, the sky lights buzzed like it was the start of a scene in any horror film.
“It’s functional,” I say to an empty room.
This place completely lacks any personality that I thrive on. This feels like I’m being shoved into a sad beige shoebox.
I scratch my forehead, exhaling.
Okay, it’s only temporary.
This is just a stepping stone—a place to stay while I fix up my grandmother’s house.
I have no idea how I’m going to make that happen.
But at least I get to try.
With a little help from power tools and a lot of wishful thinking, what could go wrong?