My art never judged me or mocked me.
It never told me I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t make fun of me whenever I wore the wrong type of dress to a cocktail party, and it sure as hell never told me my dreams were invalid.
Of course my art was more important than him. Because Daryl was a dick.
When are you coming back?
What part of breaking up did he not understand? He was out of his mind if he thought I was going to come back. Not after all the fights and all the digs and jabs I endured just to try and see the good in him. I gave him everything, until I had nothing more to give.
After everything I gave you, the least you could do is answer me.
I picked up my phone and opened the messenger. I poised my fingers to fly across the screen as my vision began to turn red. I crafted response after response of hurtful accusations in my head, debating on which one to send him that would shut him up for good.
But I knew that wasn’t the answer. I didn’t want to bring more pain into an already fucked up situation. The plain fact was we weren’t right for each other. I was going to take the high road now and cut my losses.
Settling on a message for my ex, my fingers worked. I kept it short and sweet, telling him that we both needed to accept the reality of the situation. We had our chance, and now it was time for us to go our separate ways and that I wished him the best. No grudges. No hard feelings.
Then I sent the message and turned off my phone so I could enjoy the rest of the flight. I needed time to think.
While I had some success with my art in New York, I hadn’t reached the potential I knew I had inside of me. I was told my work wasn’t modern enough or sharp enough for the audience that the city attracted. Some galleries suggested that I should try going to the Midwest or even down south.
What the hell did that even mean?
My grandmother’s death chipped away at my soul, but it dropped the one thing I needed in my lap more than anything else. Whenever I was at her cabin, I always felt safe, blanketed from a harsh world that could swallow me whole. I’d fought my entire life to keep two feet on the ground instead of allowing myself to become a victim.
When my grandmother’s lawyer sent me the letter notifying me the house was mine, it couldn’t have been better timing. Gigi always had a way of saying and doing things that were necessary at the moment they were needed most. I had no idea the adventure I was setting myself on by moving going back to North Carolina, but part of me understood I had no choice. I was excited about this new chapter ahead.
With that said, I was also scared shitless.
The plane landed at Asheville Regional, and I had just enough money to pick up a rental car. It was a compact car and would struggle over the mountainous terrain of my home town, but it was all I could afford. I shoved my suitcases into the car, stuffing it to the brim, then reached for my phone to turn it back on. Besides the bombardment of text messages from my ex, I saw I also had a few missed calls from my best friend. I smiled and dialed the phone.
“Hello beautiful.”
“Manda! Thank the earth. Have you landed?”
“Yep. Getting into my rental car now and heading to the cabin.”
“How was the flight?” she asked.
“Besides the endless texts from Daryl, it went smoothly.”
“Daryl? The fuck was he messaging you for?”
“He was offended that I left without saying anything to him.”
“You said all you had to a month ago.”
“I know, but apparently it wasn’t enough. I kept my response short and sweet, and I shut my phone off after I sent the message,” I said.
“Oh, I bet he loved that. The control freak who has no control.”
“Yep.”
“What are your plans for the day?” she asked. “And what does this cabin look like anyway?”
“I mean, it’s a cabin,” I said. “So it looks like a cabin.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” she said. “Give me the details. Is it well-kept? Clean? Was your grandmother a hoarder?”
“No, she wasn’t,” I said, giggling. “I don’t really have any plans other than to get to the cabin and take a look at it. But I know my Gigi. That woman hated change. It probably looks the same as it did the day I left for college.”
“Did she keep it tidy, though?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Then hopefully that means it’s still been kept up despite her nursing home stay.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said.
“Did the attorney send you any pictures of it?” she asked.
“A few. Mostly of the outside and the yard. From the few pictures I was given, though, it looks to be in okay shape.”
“Define okay.”
“I mean, the grass was a bit long in the pictures and gravel rocks from the driveway are scattered places, but the outside looks fine,” I said.
“What about the other pictures?” she asked.
“There were two of the inside. One was of the living room, which looked bare but fine. The other was of her room, which looked pretty dark and dusty.”
“Just like your crotch lately,” she said, giggling.
“Haha, very funny. Either way, as long as I can settle in it I’ll be okay. I can clean it up and mow the lawn, that’s not the issue. I don’t have the money for a motel or anything.”
“If you need the money, you know I’ve got you.”
“Thanks, Sarah. But I promise I’m okay,” I said.
“Well, don’t hesitate to ask. You know I’m only a phone call away.”
“I do,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t let that asshole Daryl get to you, and stay safe. Where are you now that you’re driving?”
“Winding up the mountain, actually. The cabin should come into view any—”
I rounded the last bend in the mountain before my grandmother’s house came into view. I felt the breath leave my lungs as I pulled the rental car into the sparse gravel driveway. The pictures had been misleading at best and must’ve been taken when the light was just right.
Because this place was a wreck.
“Amanda? What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing,” I said. “Just memories,” I mumbled.
What the hell happened to my grandmother’s home?
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked.
“Positive. It’s all a bit much.”
“Okay. Because you sound worried,” she said.
“Well, you don’t worry about me. I’m going to see you in a few days, right? You’re still coming out?”
“Of course. I’ll be driving, though. I can’t afford to haul all this art stuff of yours onto an airplane.”
“You’re the best, you know that right?” I asked.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
I shut off the car and got out before I approached the porch. The wood was splintering, and the facade of the house was faded. There was a cracked window that gazed into the living room, and it was easy to see how much dust had accumulated over the years.
It was like no one fucking touched the house after my grandmother went to the nursing home.
“I’m sure,” I said. “I only need some time to breathe and get settled.”
“So you can stay there?” Sarah asked.
“Yep,” I said. “I can. I’ll take some time to tidy up, and I’ll call you back.”
“You can shoot me a text if you want. I want to keep tabs on you. I still don’t know why you insisted on me coming out a few days after you, so I want to make sure you’re okay through all this.”
“I’m strong. I’ll be okay,” I said.
“I know you’re strong. But even strong people have their weak moments.”
“Thanks, Oprah. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Call or text soon. Otherwise, you might find me on your doorstep sooner than you expected.”
“Love you, Sarah.”
“Love you, too, Manda.”
I ended the call - then proceeded to blurt out every curse word known to man.
CHAPTER 2
BRIAN
I could do this shit all day.