Chapter One
Lizzy
Crossing the state line felt like a weight lifted off my chest. I’ve been away from here far too long. California isn’t my hometown, or even my home state, but it’s the place that’s always felt the most like home.
Specifically, this beach town called Lacqua Bend, and even though I still have a ways to go before I officially get there, there’s still something immediately comforting about knowing that I’m really back. And even though I left Montana behind me yesterday, it’s almost like now I’m finally free of it.
I roll down my window. I’m near enough to the coastline that I can just catch a faint whiff of the ocean on the air, and I feel a massive smile spreading over my face. One of the first things I want to do is spend a day down at the beach. I’ve missed it more than I expected to over the last five years.
I grew up in Phoenix, used to dry, stale, dusty desert heat, and I’d hated it. So my very first day in California, as a scared little college freshman, just shy of 18, that first whiff of salt-tinged air had hooked me.
But after graduation, I’d struggled to find work, and with the high cost of rent, it had been a battle just to keep afloat. And so when I’d gotten the offer in Montana, it had been too good to pass up.
Or at least that’s what I’d decided at the time.
I decide to stop dwelling on all of that, though, instead appreciating the sunny future ahead of me. I’m only about twenty minutes away now from the apartment complex that I’m going to be calling my new home.
I’m glad I remember my way around, my phone died a few hours ago and I don’t have a phone charger. Theoretically I could stop and pick one up at a gas station somewhere or something, but it’s not like I’m really worried about anyone trying to reach me.
It’s a depressing thought, but sadly it’s true. The only friends I’m in close contact with are used to waiting a while to hear from me. And I can count them on my fingers.
Rather than letting that get to me, however, I crank up some music and let my mind go blank. Finally, I pull up at my new apartment complex and park outside the leasing office. Getting out of the car feels amazing, my aching body glad to be out of the car.
I’d done most of the driving yesterday, then spent the night in a motel before leaving early this morning. My tailbone in particular was definitely feeling the impact of the hours in the car, and the soreness radiated deep into my lower back.
So just being on my feet and getting the chance to fully stretch is a sweet relief. I take a moment to appreciate the warm sunshine while I work the stiffness from my limbs, then head up the steps and into the office.
The bell over the door jingles as I step inside, and the young woman inside looks up at the sound. “Hello,” she says pleasantly, “How can I help you?”
“Um, hi, my name is Elizabeth Addison, I’m a new tenant?”
“Oh, yes, Ms. Addison, I’m so sorry, we’ve been trying to reach you,” she says, wincing.
So much for that. Guess I should have grabbed a car charger after all.
“We did a final inspection on your unit and unfortunately we discovered an issue we need to fix before we can move you in.”
“Like a ‘few hours’ kind of issue, or a ‘possibly a month’ kind of issue?” I ask nervously.
“Well,” she grimaces, “It will be a ‘few hours’ kind of issue…once our guys get the part that’s going to be delivered in three business days.”
Well, it’s not ideal, but it’s not nearly the worst-case scenario my pessimistic brain could conjure. “If we had another open unit, I’d set you up in a second, but at the moment, we’re pretty full up. However, to make up for the inconvenience, we’ve already made hotel arrangements for you.”
Her tone is apologetic, and I feel a stab of sympathy. She’s around my age, and I can see from the look on her face that she’s dealt with similar situations and gotten yelled at about it. And while the situation is a bit of a hassle, it’s not the end of the world. I can deal with a hotel for a few days.
“Can I go ahead and get paperwork taken care of in the meantime?” I ask hopefully, “So I don’t have to worry about that later and I can just come pick up my key?”
An expression of relief washes over her face and she smiles. “Absolutely, Ms. Addison,” she says happily.
“Please, Lizzy,” I correct her.
“Lizzy. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lizzy, I’m Emily,” she offers me a hand to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I smile and shake her hand.
She retrieves a folder from a filing cabinet and from it, pulls out a stack of papers. The two of us go through them and I sign a dozen or so papers to claim my new home. Once I’m finished, Emily gives me a note with the address of my hotel and apologizes again.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, “And hey, better to get it taken care of beforehand, right?”