Page 8 of Old-Fashioned

Run.

Find your happy place.

Love,

YOUR Miss Maggie.

Recalling those flowers, before I set plans into motion, I made a standing appointment every week with the local flower shop so they would make sure she got fresh flowers.

Once that was done, I hailed a cab to a dealership and spent the next four hours looking at vehicles and deciding on what to get.

I ended up getting a slightly used, new-to-me, dark gray Jeep Grand Cherokee with four-wheel drive.

That way no matter where I ended up, I would be covered.

Then, I went to the store, grabbed a few things, went back to my crappy apartment, packed up my meager belongings, loaded them in the back of the Jeep, and since my apartment was a month to month, I went to the landlord, dropped my keys off, climbed in my car, and sat there for five minutes.

Five minutes to get my head together.

Five minutes to breathe.

It was amazing what just five minutes could do for a single person.

As regards to Miss Maggie’s house, she had sold it without me knowing.

And as I recalled the words in the letter she wrote to me, I knew why.

She didn’t want me to stay here.

She wanted me to spread my wings, and fly.

And that house would have stopped me from doing so.

With that, I started my baby up and then started to drive.

Two hours later, once I crossed the Colorado state line, I stopped to fill the tank up, and grabbed snacks.

I didn’t have a destination in mind, I had all the time in the world.

It took me a little over two months, staying in lavish hotels, ordering room service, and seeing the sights I’d only ever dreamed about.

Getting a new phone, I was amazed at how out of touch I actually was.

Because there was nothing freer than the sunroof being open, my hand out the window, cruising along the highway while Highway to Hell blasted through my speakers.

And that any song I wanted to listen to was that close with just one touch of a button.

It was two weeks after that, and I couldn’t tell you why I stopped in this sleepy little town other than it had been, for quite some time, a happy place for Miss Maggie.

Nor could I explain the happy, carefree smile that formed on my face when I rolled down Main Street. And that would be me telling a bald-faced lie.

Seeing a sign for Happy Muffin, which also read, Best Coffee in the County, I smiled, whipped my car into their lot, shut my girl off, grabbed my bag, and walked in.

The girl behind the counter smiled at me, and then her eyes landed on my shirt, “Girl, where did you get that? It’s fabulous.”

And it was.

The shirt was a burnt orange color, with tassels hanging from the bottom made of aquamarine, tungsten, and pearl. The design on the front was of a black wolf, standing guard over a solid white wolf as she lazed in the sun.

---