Page 3 of Connected By Souls

“I’m done with men for a while, but I’ll keep the handyman part in mind.” I laugh.

“Yeah, boys suck. My boyfriend is always getting himself in the doghouse doing dumb stuff with the football team.” She rolls her eyes at me.

“I hate to break it to you, but they never outgrow doing the dumb stuff.” I swipe my card to pay for the order.

“Is that why you’re single? Your boyfriend did something dumb?” She hands me my receipt.

“Girl, you have no idea. It was nice meeting you, Nora. I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you too, Emma.” Smiling, she turns and starts ringing up the next customer behind me.

Pushing my cart outside, I load the groceries, anxious to see my new home. The realtor said the cottage needs some minor repairs, but I’m looking forward to putting my own touch into the place anyway. Excitement builds as I pull out of the parking spot and head down the road and out of town.

The sun is setting low in the sky. I roll down my window to let the salty breeze fill my lungs. The buildings slowly grow sparse as I head out of town, giving way to a scenic view of the ocean and beach to my right. Palm trees line both sides of the road as I come upon a restaurant on the water. I can hear music filling the air as I get closer. The rustic restaurant looks cute with a blue wooden drift sign that saysRusty’s. People are out on the deck, dining by the water, listening to a band play while others are sitting by the bar sipping drinks.

Suddenly, my heart speeds up, and it feels like I can’t breathe. I have a strong desire to pull into the parking lot as if something is pulling me there. Shaking myself out of it, I continue down the road as I slowly take deep breaths. What the hell was that? I haven’t had a panic attack in a few months since I started doing yoga and meditating. I’m happy I stopped and bought wine. I’m going to need it.

Once out of town, houses come into view. Some are little beach cottages with palm trees that line the driveways—others are newer three-story houses. Most homes around this area are spread out, giving the owners some privacy. Soon the road gives way to gravel as the last few houses on this stretch come into view. As I pull into the driveway, my house is the second to last on the road.

The cottage is a cute two-bedroom with yellow wood lap siding. The front porch is painted white, with matching white shutters framing the windows. I notice the peeling paint on the front porch. I need to add that to my list as I study the front of the house. I can already picture the flower planters I want to add and maybe some hanging ferns to frame the entryway.

Smiling, I get out of my Bronco. My neighbors to my right have a similar-style house painted a pretty blue. We have palm trees lining up between our properties, providing us with a little privacy. Further down the road stands a beautiful, white-planked second-story home with a cedar wrap-around porch that matches the shutters. It’s the last house on the street and sits on a hill overlooking a breathtaking view of the ocean. It looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. I can barely make out a long flight of steps leading down to the beach.

I turn to grab the grocery bags and climb the stairs to the porch, excited to see the inside. Sliding the key into the white-washed door, I step inside, setting my bags down as I flip the light switch. Old wooden floors are laid throughout the open-concept kitchen and living room, leading to a back wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with double cottage doors that lead to a back deck.

The windows in the back are what sold me on the house. You can see the ocean from every angle in the cottage. I can’t wait to see the full view in the morning when the sun comes up. The kitchen needs some updating, but nothing I can’t handle or hire someone to do. It has a nice-sized island with four barstools tucked underneath.

Part of the deal with the cottage is being able to keep some of the main furniture, so I’m glad to see the comfy denim-colored sofa and wooden coffee table, along with a cute round table off the kitchen.

Walking through, I see a small room to the right that would make a perfect writing room. I can’t wait to write and be able to look out at the ocean. I can already picture my desk facing the window. I notice a bathroom off the hall and an extra closet as I walk to the other side of the cottage, where the master bedroom is.

Opening the door, I can’t help my grin. A queen-sized bed I’d ordered and arranged for the realtor to set up for me is against the main wall. It has a beautiful driftwood headboard that matches the nightstand and dresser. Like the kitchen, the back wall has floor-to-ceiling windows with cottage doors leading out to the same deck. Heading to the master bath, I pass a door leading to a small walk-in closet. The bathroom needs some minor updates, but nothing a fresh coat of paint and new fixtures can’t fix. The white marble double vanity is in good shape, and I can’t wait to get in the big garden tub that sits along the back wall. Next to the tub are glass doors leading to a matching white tile shower. I return to the living room to put my groceries away before they spoil.

A couple of hours later, I have everything unloaded from the Bronco and a pile of boxes in my living room that I can tackle this weekend. Today is Friday, so I have a couple of days to get settled before I start work on Monday.

I quickly make a simple salmon salad and go to the deck to enjoy the fresh ocean air. Smiling, I see a couple of chairs with a table the previous owners left me. I set my salad down before walking over to the railing. I take in the dark view of the ocean, knowing it’s there and feeling it as I hear the waves lapping up on the shoreline.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and smile, feeling better than I have in a long time. I turn to sit and notice the house on the hill is lit up. Admiring its beauty, I get a deja vu feeling like I’ve seen that house somewhere before. Shaking my head at the funny feeling in my stomach, I sit down to enjoy my meal.

I submersemyself into a mountain-high pile of bubbles with my latest book by my favorite author, Beck Hunter. It’s the perfect way to end my first night here. I don’t know what it is about this author, but I can’t get enough of her books. I discovered her five years ago when her first book came out, and I’ve read every single one, some more than once. I connect to these characters more than any other book I’ve ever read, and that says a lot because I’ve been an avid reader since I was little. I feel like I’m there with the couple and living alongside them. I can easily put myself in the main character's place and feel everything she’s feeling. Her books inspired me to write down my ideas for children’s books. If her books could touch me this way, I want to bring that same joy to children as their families read to them each night, escaping into a world of adventures and love. I sink further into the bath and quickly get lost in the story as if I’m living it myself.

ChapterThree

Noah

Mav greetsme as I come around to the bar. “Hey, man.” He gives me a fist bump and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Maverick has been my best friend since before we could talk. My mom is a yoga teacher and owns the yoga studio in town, BellaLuna. His mom came in one day to take a class, and they’ve been best friends ever since. They decided one year to get pregnant at the same time so their kids would grow up together. Maverick’s younger sister is best friends with my sister, Bella.

My mom surprised us all by having my youngest sister, Luna, at forty. She said that although Luna was a surprise, it was written in the stars to bring her into our family. My mom can sometimes be a little out there with her beliefs and yogi talk but nowhere near as woo-woo as my Grandma Mimi. I love them both dearly, even though some things they say seem far-fetched. After living most of my life with these unexplained dreams, my mind is way more open to things I once thought were crazy. I don’t even mind the crystals I keep finding in odd places around my house. My mom and Mimi say they’re for good energy and protection. Hell, I even tried burning sage once to cleanse the air, hoping it would help lessen my dreams.

“You start without me?” I eye our favorite local craft beer in his hand. Mav adjusts his ballcap as he grins at me. Mav’s wavy, dark blond hair is longer than mine, reaching just below his chin. He’s got it in a low bun today with his cap on and his usual boardies and t-shirt. Looking down at his feet, he’s wearing Reefs this time, which is a plus. I don’t know how many times the owner, Rusty, has told him to come back when he has shoes on because he’s walked straight up from the beach.

“I may have closed up shop early today, but only because I wanted to save us some seats by the water,” he grins.

Maverick’s dad semi-retired last year and handed over the family surf shop business, Lane’s Surf Shack, to Mav. He’s done really well with bringing in new business through social media. My sister Bella has been helping him shoot some video footage, and they’re gaining a following. She still helps our mom by working part-time at the yoga studio, but her real passion is filming. When we were younger, she’d be on the beach at sunrise, capturing us as we rode the waves. We would stay out all day until our bodies would be so sore we could hardly paddle back in. We got in trouble more than once, skipping school when the waves were firing, but it was so worth the trouble we would get in.

“You always seem to close up shop early,” I laugh.

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