Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
YOU AREN’T A FELON, RIGHT?
Blair
A sixteen-hour drive turned into a two-day drive. A little more than halfway through, I decided it was best for me, my passenger princess Reginald, and all the drivers on the road if I took the night off. The anticipation of getting to this new town had us on the road before the sun began to rise to make good time.
Seeing the town’s welcome sign finally coming into view, ignited a spark of excitement in every part of me.
Welcome to Bluestone Lakes .
It already feels like I’m putting the past behind me. The heavy memories, like the dense clouds that often hung over the Golden Gate Bridge, were finally lifting as the sign came closer to view.
I may be exhausted from the long trip, but seeing a fresh start for us right in front of me feels like I just shotgunned a venti cold brew and chased it with two espresso shots. Well, that might stop my heart. This view in front of me makes my heart race. The good kind of beating behind my ribcage. The kind you get when you know your future is about to change for the better. The fresh start outside the city that I so desperately crave.
That image on the website doesn’t do this justice.
A small town nestled between towering mountains and crystal clear, blue waters stretching as far as the eyes can see. The water shimmers under the afternoon sun, with their clear waters reflecting the snow-capped peaks surrounding them. Tall, dense evergreen trees line the one-lane highway in clusters, their deep green hues contrasting sharply with the pale blue sky and muted tones of the mountains. It's a sight that leaves me in awe, the perfect end to this long drive.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
I continue forward on the bumpy road and see on the GPS that my destination is still another ten minutes away. I’m not sure how my little white sports car is going to handle the roads if they are anything like this in town. It’s almost like they haven’t been touched since they first asphalted them many years ago.
Up on my left is a small ranch, with at least a dozen horses of different shades and breeds lined up against a wooden fence that runs adjacent to the road. I slow down the car enough to take in the ranch. A wooden sign that reads Barlow Ranch hangs over the dirt road entrance.
I can’t help but smile to myself.
Growing up in the city and in apartments, I’ve never been much for wildlife. I think you just become used to that because there sure as hell is no wildlife like this in San Francisco unless you’re going to the zoo.
If the views in town are anything like this, I might fall in love.
I accelerate to the speed limit again for another half a mile before a cluster of buildings comes into view, forcing me to slow down again. I sit up higher in my seat, leaning forward on the steering wheel as if that’s going to give me a better view. My grip tightens as nervous energy mixes with my excitement because the buildings in front of me scream old-town country. It already feels like a culture shock compared to what I’m used to.
There’s a sense of stillness that contrasts sharply with the city’s constant hum .
Entering the main street, I spot a second sign that reads Heart of Bluestone Lakes .
Remembering this was the sign where Nan told me to meet her, I scan my surroundings and feel the eyes of strangers on me already as they walk the sidewalks. Their glances are curious, yet kind—just a new face in a town full of possibilities.
The thought of that alone sends a thrill through my body.
As I pull my car to the side of the road, careful not to put it on the grass, Reginald barks in the passenger seat before poking his head up to peek out the window.
“We’re home. That sounds weird, right?” I laugh, talking to my dog. “But this is our new home.”
He barks again as I reach for the leash sitting on the back seat to attach it to his collar.
The crisp mountain air hits my lungs as soon as I open the door. It’s different here—crispier, fresher, and filled with the scent of pine and earth. I inhale a deep breath and feel a profound sense of peace. As nervous as I am, I feel a spark of hope flicker. For the first time in a while, the future feels like something I can shape with my own hands. It’s a strange feeling, but just breathing this air makes this all feel like it was the right decision.
It feels like the fresh start I’ve been so desperate for.
The sudden sound of an engine coming up behind me jolts me out of my reverie. I snap my head in that direction and spot an ancient-looking, dark red pickup truck coming from where I just came.
The truck slows down just enough for me to notice the person behind the wheel. A pair of angry eyes, hidden under the brim of a dark brown cowboy hat, lock onto mine, and it feels like time stands still. Everything around me slows down, and I hear nothing but my heart beating wildly as I stare back at the man. It only lasts a moment before the truck speeds away, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.
Great. Now I’m nervous again .
It’s only been two minutes since I arrived, and already I’ve had a less-than-welcoming encounter.
I shake myself from the thoughts and realize I’m still looking in the direction the truck just disappeared to in the distance. That’s when I spot an older woman sitting on a bench near the welcome sign. She has to be in her seventies with white hair that sits just over her ears. Not a speck of gray, just pure white. She’s tiny, but doesn’t look frail, even with the deep set of wrinkles around her eyes. Actually, she looks like she could kick someone's ass if she had the chance based on the stern look on her face.
Approaching her at the bench, I stop in front of her and clasp my hands together in front of me. “Hi. Good afternoon. Are you Nan by chance?”
“Depends on who’s askin’.” She raises a brow.
I force a smile and extend my hand. “I’m Blair Andrews.” I regret the use of my full name the moment the words leave my lips. Not wanting anyone here to recognize the name. “We spoke on the phone,” I continue, but the words come out fumbled.
She stands from the chair, taking my hand in hers and giving it a firm shake. “Well then, in that case, yes, I am.” Her eyes scan me from head to toe and I instantly feel like I don’t fit in. “You’re quite the fancy pants, aren’t you?”
I want to groan because I feel fancy. My entire wardrobe consists of pencil skirts and dress slacks. I couldn’t even find a comfortable plain T-shirt mixed in my closet that wasn’t a pair of silk pajamas, because all I own are blouses. I knew I would be overdressed but had no idea how much after seeing what Nan is wearing. She has on a pair of weathered jeans that look a size too big for her, with a long-sleeve T-shirt that shimmers along the collar and sleeves with even the smallest move. To some, that shirt might seem fancy for a night out, but it just looks…fun. The light blue, retro-framed glasses only add to the look.
“I know. I realized when I was driving in that I should probably get some new clothes,” I say with a half laugh, trying to keep the embarrassment out of my tone.
“I can tell you just the spot,” she says with certainty.
Reginald barks next to me, tail wagging in excitement.
“This is Reginald,” I say.
She raises a brow. “That’s…some name for a small dog like that. But who am I to judge? What kind of dog is he?”
“He’s a corgi.”
“Ain’t got a clue about that kind.”
She crouches down to give him a little pet on the head. He licks her hand wildly. His butt wiggles at a rapid speed and I can tell he’s excited to meet a new friend.
I can’t believe I was so nervous to meet this mysterious woman. I feel much more at ease than I did minutes ago. She isn’t scary. Actually, she seems like she knows how to have a good time. She’s that type of person, when you’re in her presence, you just feel calm. Her confidence and demeanor have put me at ease. And she doesn’t feel fake with her offer to help me, which is refreshing considering the friends I surrounded myself with back home in California.
“Ready to go?” she asks, standing up.
Scanning the area, I don’t see another car. But Nan doesn’t hesitate before grabbing Reginald’s leash and walking to the passenger seat of my car. I remain rooted where I stand, and my eyebrows narrow in confusion.
“Where am I taking you?” I ask.
“To your house, girl.” She barks out a laugh. “I’ll direct you and this fancy rig where to go.”
I hustle to the driver’s side, slightly tripping over my feet as she gets in.
Once I’m seated, I buckle my seatbelt and open the GPS on the dashboard. “I can enter the address here.”
She shakes her head, waving a hand in dismissal. “Unnecessary. I know this town like I know both of my tits. ”
I say nothing but stare at her before throwing the car into drive.
This should be fun .
She guides me to the outskirts of town, and I’m thankful the whole town isn’t packed with dirt roads as you see on those TV shows about country towns. Then again, this doesn’t seem like your typical small town.
“Turn here.” She points to her left, putting me on a long, winding road. “What brings you to Bluestone Lakes?”
I turn the wheel as my head thinks over her question. I’m not ready to divulge my entire history to a stranger or bring up memories of the past. I’m not sure I’m ready for these people to know that part of me yet. A part of me worries they’ll judge me the way people did back in San Francisco. Being that this is supposed to be a fresh start for me, I want to treat it as such.
I sigh. “I want to start a new life for myself. My old life…well, it was pretty shitty,” I say, settling on a vague rendition of the truth.
“You aren’t a felon, right?”
“No, ma’am.”
She nods her head. “You know you’re gonna want to do something about this car, right? It’s going to be a mess,” she says, before pointing to her right. “Turn here.”
“Yeah?” I ask, turning the wheel right.
As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize why she made that comment.
Is this my street? Because if it is, I literally live on a dirt road.
“This is your street,” she says, answering the question I asked myself in my head.
I look at the small street sign that’s crooked and looks like it might fall off with the next gust of wind.
Barlow Drive.
Is this entire town named after someone named Barlow?
Another beautiful, much smaller lake sits to the right and spans from the start of the street to a cluster of trees a good distance away. I like that this place is tucked away in a secluded part of the town. It’s close, but not too close.
After turning the car through a big bend around the lake, my eyes land on two houses. One of them is a tiny home, and the other is what looks like a gigantic estate-style home a quarter of a mile away.
Do they plan to build more on this road?
“There’s your tiny home,” Nan announces.
A smile splits across my face as I take it in. “Wow.”
She says nothing more as I pull into a makeshift gravel driveway.
I exit the car quickly as the crisp air hits my lungs again. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if you tried. A beautiful dock with two Adirondack chairs sits on the edge of the small lake. I can picture sitting out there late at night with a glass of wine, a blanket, and Reginald on my lap. And most definitely with a good book.
I glance to my left to see the bigger home. Evergreen trees surrounding it make it look tucked away at the north end of the street, while my home sits very much out in the open. It’s far enough away that I can still have my privacy, but close enough that if we became friends, it’s a short walk to each other’s house.
I wonder if they are nice.
I hope like hell the entire town isn’t as intimidating as that man driving the truck was.
How cool would it be to have a friend so close?
I turn back to face my house.
My home .
It’s very small, but I expected that after doing some research on these types of houses. It’s a simple design with a dark blue exterior with crisp white trim, giving it a modern but sophisticated appearance. It’s a two-story house with a pitched roof, suggesting the upper level may be a loft-style room. Windows line the outside, which tells me that there is plenty of natural light to flood the interior .
“Needs some work,” Nan says, coming to stand beside me with Reginald’s leash in her hands.
“It’s perfect.”
“No one’s lived here for years. But it’s been kept up on the inside by the previous owner,” she says. “The deck railing ain’t too sturdy. Probably got a nail or two poking out somewhere, so careful.”
The natural wood beams and posts of the porch truly don’t look like it’s going to last much longer. But realization hits me.
One of the biggest thoughts I had on the drive here is to learn who I truly am and gain some independence. So much of my life has been spent relying on others. Relying on a man to do the hard things for me. Once I moved into my sister’s apartment, I realized I didn’t even know who I was as a person anymore. Deep down under the polished exterior I had to maintain, I struggle to know who I really am.
This project might be something I can do to help me learn this independent lifestyle.
Emphasizing the word “ might .”
I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix a whole deck by myself, but what a project that could be, huh?
“Maybe one day I can build a bigger deck,” I tell her.
“You need any help, you reach out to me. One of my boys will be right over to help you out with that.”
I smile and nod.
That’s exactly what I don’t want, but I’m not about to tell her that. Besides, it’s nice to know I will have a backup if it turns into more than I anticipated.
I turn to face her fully, taking Reginald’s leash from her. “Thank you so much, ma’am. You know, for helping me get this place.”
“It’s what I do.” She laughs. “We ain’t got real estate agents here in town, so I make it my job to help sell some of these places. And you lucked out with this one. I never thought the owner would sell it. ”
“Wow,” I say, chest feeling tight at the perfect turn of events. “It’s going to be the perfect place for us.”
She tosses me the set of keys to get inside and smiles before turning around to walk away.
“Do you want me to take you anywhere?” I ask before she can get too far.
“No, dear. One of my boys is probably up at the house.” She points to the house I just had my sight on. “They can drive me back after they give me an ice-cold beer.”
I laugh, shaking my head.
It’s not even eleven in the morning.
“Thank you again,” I shout as she walks away in the direction of the main house.
“Anytime. Welcome to Bluestone Lakes, Blair. I think you’re gonna like it here.” She winks and continues her walk.
I look down at Reginald, and he barks at the house.
“Oh, and Blair?” Nan shouts halfway to the road. I turn my head back to her. “Don’t call me ma’am again. Makes me feel old. I still got a lot of life left in these bones. You call me Nan, just like everyone else.”
I chuckle. “You got it, Nan.”
I turn back to face my new home, letting the quiet embrace me as I smile to myself.
Bluestone Lakes is nothing like San Francisco, but maybe that’s exactly what I need.
The fresh start I’ve been waiting for.
A place where no one knows who I am.
A place where I’m not associated with my piece of shit ex-husband.
A place where no one has sad, sympathetic eyes for the woman who was cheated on.
“I think we’re going to like it here too,” I tell Reginald.