Page 67 of Just Like Starting Over
I had the wrong end of the stick.
What does that mean for Sylvia and Sierra?
I run a hand over my damp brow, reminding myself that it’s not my problem and head across the street. The rep from the greenhouse construction company is sitting in his truck, parked behind mine, checking his messages. I answer Glen’s text and it’s greenhouse time.
After that, I’m definitely going to crash.
It’s amazing how much one lost night of sleep can matter.
18
SYLVIA
Idraw dahlias and zinnias all morning Tuesday, trying not to think about the man who brought them to me then seduced me so brilliantly on the chaise lounge rightthere. I also try to think about the future and what I want.
I want a fairy tale ending and a happily-ever-after.
But I don’t believe in either.
I want Mike, but I don’t trust him to keep from breaking my heart again.
I got what I thought I wanted last night, but it wasn’t enough.
By lunch, I can’t stand my own company any longer, so I pack up and drive down to Port Cavendish to check out the trailers.
They’re fabulous.
Does Mike have the answer to every question? I don’t know but he’s brilliant at finding solutions. A natural problem-solver. What would he be like as a partner? Thoughtful. Helpful. Consistent. Reliable. Someone to count on. All the things I want in a man.
And a great lover, too.
Have I messed up? I hate that I’ve let fear guide my decision and yet I can’t dismiss it. I tell myself that if anyone would let a person recover from a mistake, apologize and start again, that person would be Mike.
I want to believe that, but need to try harder.
The women who own the trailer refurbishment company are very friendly and helpful, as well as patient with my questions. Mindy, the one with the purple hair, guides me through the half dozen available trailers they have on the lot, explaining composting toilets and solar panels so well that I almost understand all of it. They’ve added a lot of great storage features to the trailers and it’s easy to imagine living in one – even with a teenage daughter.
Then I go into their office – in a refurbished Airstream – and look at the photographs of all the other trailers they’ve restored and sold. Mindy shows me the projects in the works and the trailers waiting for their attention, and her enthusiasm for what they do is contagious.
I have my eye on a vintage trailer that’s been redone in turquoise and black, with a rounded roof and a smaller size. It’s still too heavy for me to pull with the Subaru, but I really like it – and Mindy says they could deliver it locally for me. It has a striped awning and I can envision it with a little patio. Candles. A barbeque and a picnic table. We’d be close to Una, just thirty feet away, but have our privacy.
And our own bathroom.
Lynn, the more conservatively dressed partner, reviews costs with me, both the initial outlay and what I can expect in terms of running costs. This is the kind of math that I dislike, the money kind, where I don’t have enough. I have a little bit saved for a rainy day, but clearly, I can have that or the trailer. I’ll need a mortgage, small by anyone else’s terms, but theprospect still makes me twitch, as does a visit to the bank. Meanwhile, Lynn calls someone in Havelock to check on the by-laws for Una’s place, though she’s pretty sure it would be okay.
It is.
I promise to come back with Sierra on the weekend and we shake hands all around.
In the parking lot, I take a deep breath then call Mike. I plan to thank him for the suggestion, but I get his voice mail. I leave a message, unable to ignore my disappointment. It would have been nice to talk to him.
He doesn’t call back by the time I get back to Empire.
Not when I get to Una’s either.
I check that my phone is on and charged.
He hasn’t called by the time I’ve made dinner or even when I’ve settled on the porch to read while Una goes to bed.
