The key to change

         

The key to change... is to let go of fear.

~Rosanne Cash

Lindy needed a change. She knew it, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She looked around her tiny apartment. It had drab orange and brown wallpaper that had to have been there since the sixties, and the apartment had a musty smell strong enough to make one assume that everything else in the 350 square feet had been, too. The two tiny windows gave the place about as much light as a dank cave in the middle of winter. The bathroom was right off from the small galley kitchen, and you could barely close the door while you were in it. Lindy had found the apartment after she had broken things off with David.  At the time, the apartment had been a godsend.  Now, it felt like a prison. Even though she kept it sparklingly clean, there was barely enough room to turn around in, much less have a normal life in. But on her limited income, Lindy didn’t know what she’d be able to afford in the city. Recently she’d been looking at different apartments, most of them had been the same as or worse than her current living situation. Some days she longed for the palatial loft in Chicago she had shared with David, but she would mentally shake herself and say “You were miserable there, remember?”

The neighborhood wasn’t a bad one, but in a city like New York, it was hard to make friends if you didn’t go into an office or classroom every day. Lindy liked the upper west side. It was quiet and mostly safe. The tree lined street she lived on was just around the corner from a Whole Foods Market, and steps from the subway. Lindy had grown up in Chicago, and so she was only accustomed to city life. Although New York has more bustle than most. The building Lindy lived in was a quaint pre-war walkup. It suited her because it had thick walls, allowing her to work from home undisturbed. But then again she barely left her apartment. She didn’t have the budget to shop at Whole Foods, so she used a grocery delivery service. It was cheaper than eating out, and less depressing than eating alone in public.

Lindy often toyed with the idea of moving outside the city. Her consulting job gave her the freedom to be able to do so, but she felt fear tighten her chest when she thought about it seriously. Lindy had been raised in the city and the thought of being alone out in the country made gruesome scenarios play out in her mind. But this was nothing compared to the torture of living with David, who although was not physically abusive, broke her down with words on a daily basis. She had endured it because she had been afraid to venture out on her own, having moved in with David as soon as she moved out of her parent’s home. The mental abuse had caused the once vibrant Lindy to retreat into herself, becoming quiet, mouse like. She walked hunched over most of the time and hadn’t even realized it. One day, it hit her that she just couldn’t take it anymore. She knew that if she didn’t leave she’d die, not physically, just emotionally. She’d have become a robot, living her life completely mechanically. So, she packed up, blew out of town, and landed in New York; which is precisely where she sat right now, absorbed in her thoughts.

There was one place she had seen online that stuck in her memory. It was a little blue chalet style house with a white picket fence and painted lady front porch done in white black and grey. There were little stone pathways with little stone walls and garden planters full of lavender. A little voice inside her kept saying “What are you waiting for? Just do it!” but Lindy was still paralyzed by a blanket of fear and self-doubt. The fear was basically of the unknown. Lindy planned out her whole life, and if something didn’t fit into that plan, it created waves of anxiety that rippled into every facet of her existence. But yet something changed in Lindy that afternoon in her dank shoebox of an apartment. She hopped over to her computer, plopped into the chair and began typing furiously.

Next thing Lindy knew, she was in the driver’s seat of a rental car, halfway through West Virginia. She’d been driving for eight hours, but somehow still had a huge well of energy. She smelled the fresh breeze through the sunroof of the little mini cooper, and heard the chirping of birds, and the croaking of bullfrogs in the twilight. Lindy had always thought the idea of the noises being peaceful and calming was preposterous! It was a frog sound and some birds screeching. As she drove through the night, these sounds were her companion.

It was still dark when she finally pulled into the B&B parking lot, and Lindy was completely exhausted. She quickly grabbed her things from the passenger seat and shuffled into the parlor of the old colonial structure. An old woman sat behind the desk. Lindy had called ahead early yesterday evening to make sure the front door wouldn’t be locked. She figured they would have just left her a key in an envelope, but apparently that wasn’t how things worked in the south. As Lindy walked in, the scent of Jasmine and the warm humid country air swept through the door behind her. The old woman gave Lindy a knowing look, handed her a key and showed her up to her room. Lindy barley looked around before lying down on the bed. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Lindy arose some six hours later to the sound of her cellphone going off. “Crap!” she thought, “That’s got to be the realtor calling!” She’d forgotten to set an alarm so that she’d be ready for the appointment she’d made to view the little cottage. Lindy had decided that one moment in her cramped apartment, that she would overcome that wave of fear and make a change for the better. Nothing else was holding her back.

“Hello?” she said groggily into the receiver.

“Miss Nevins?” a rich voice said.

“Yes? This is she.” Lindy said. “I assume I am speaking with Mr. Cunningham. I forgot to set my alarm for the showing today.”  She said apologetically.

“No need to apologize, you’re not late. I was calling early to see if you wanted to ride out to the farm with me. It’s easy to get lost on these curvy mountain roads.” That voice did something to Lindy, something very unsettling.

“Yes, I’ll be ready in ten minutes. See you then.” Lindy said. Did she just hear her own voice getting husky? No, she had to be imagining it.

Lindy hopped into the shower and scrubbed hurriedly. Then grabbed her bag and pulled out a wrinkled chambray shirt. After three tries with shaky fingers, she succeeded in getting it buttoned. She brought her well broken in jean shorts up over her hips, and threw her sandals on. Lindy took one quick look in the mirror, stifled a grin, and was out the door like a shot.

Lindy almost collided with a very handsome man on her way out.

“Miss Nevins?” asked the same deep voice Lindy had heard on the phone earlier.

“Oh, uh, you must be my realtor! Hi, I’m Lindy. It’s um, very nice to meet you.” As she said this Lindy stuck out her hand awkwardly and looked up into his face. When her eyes met his, Lindy felt a jolt like she’d stuck her finger into an electrical socket.

He must have felt the same thing because when he started speaking, he stammered. “Y-y-yes ma’am, I am. My name is Kennedy, but you can call me Ken.”

“Hi, Ken, it’s nice to officially meet you. How far away is the farm?” Lindy had never felt more energetic in her life. Half of it was nervous energy, and the other half was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Oh, it is about ten minutes’ drive from town. If you’re ready to go, my car is right out here.” He said.

The ride out was picturesque with rocks jutting out of the greenness here and there along the winding, hilly road. Lindy didn’t say much on the way out, content to just listen to the handsome stranger’s voice. Though he didn’t feel like a stranger to Lindy. For the first time ever she was just comfortable around someone. The tone of his voice seemed to settle the nervous energy she had acquired since her recent bout of independence.

They pulled into the graveled driveway, the grass brushing the bottom of Ken’s truck. Lindy gasped at what she saw. The pictures online just hadn’t done the place justice. Lindy knew right away that she had to have the place. But not until she had walked up the little rock path, and stepped foot over the threshold did she feel it- this place was her home. It had always been meant for her. She immediately told Ken she’d like to make an offer. She could easily afford the payments on the house and she’d been pre-approved for a substantial loan for months.  She told Ken the amount of the offer and then frowned at what he said next.

“What did you say?” she asked quizzically

“Your offer has been accepted.” Ken said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Well how do you know that? You haven’t even called anyone yet. Don’t you have to speak with the owner first?”

“Well, no ma’am, I don’t.” he said with a half chuckle.

“Why not”, Lindy said, starting to fume. This place meant a lot to her and she didn’t want to have someone toying with her over it.

“Because I am the owner, and as soon as the paperwork is finished, the place is yours, furniture and all.” Ken said as he handed her the key.

Lindy fought back tears as she walked outside. For the first time in a long time, Lindy felt something other than indecision, fear, or numbness. She felt hope spring up in her heart. It was carried to her on the breeze thick with the scent of lavender.