“I can tell you just the spot,” she says with certainty.
Reginald barks next to me, tail wagging in excitement.
“This is Reginald,” I say.
She raises a brow. “That’s…some name for a small dog like that. But who am I to judge? What kind of dog is he?”
“He’s a corgi.”
“Ain’t got a clue about that kind.”
She crouches down to give him a little pet on the head. He licks her hand wildly. His butt wiggles at a rapid speed and I can tell he’s excited to meet a new friend.
I can’t believe I was so nervous to meet this mysterious woman. I feel much more at ease than I did minutes ago. She isn’t scary. Actually, she seems like she knows how to have a good time. She’s that type of person, when you’re in her presence, you justfeelcalm. Her confidence and demeanor have put me at ease. And she doesn’t feel fake with her offer to help me, which is refreshing considering the friends I surrounded myself with back home in California.
“Ready to go?” she asks, standing up.
Scanning the area, I don’t see another car. But Nan doesn’t hesitate before grabbing Reginald’s leash and walking to the passenger seat of my car. I remain rooted where I stand, and my eyebrows narrow in confusion.
“Where am I taking you?” I ask.
“To your house, girl.” She barks out a laugh. “I’ll direct you and this fancy rig where to go.”
I hustle to the driver’s side, slightly tripping over my feet as she gets in.
Once I’m seated, I buckle my seatbelt and open the GPS on the dashboard. “I can enter the address here.”
She shakes her head, waving a hand in dismissal. “Unnecessary. I know this town like I know both of my tits.”
I say nothing but stare at her before throwing the car into drive.
This should be fun.
She guides me to the outskirts of town, and I’m thankful the whole town isn’t packed with dirt roads as you see on those TV shows about country towns. Then again, this doesn’t seem like your typical small town.
“Turn here.” She points to her left, putting me on a long, winding road. “What brings you to Bluestone Lakes?”
I turn the wheel as my head thinks over her question. I’m not ready to divulge my entire history to a stranger or bring up memories of the past. I’m not sure I’m ready for these people to know that part of me yet. A part of me worries they’ll judge me the way people did back in San Francisco. Being that this is supposed to be a fresh start for me, I want to treat it as such.
I sigh. “I want to start a new life for myself. My old life…well, it was pretty shitty,” I say, settling on a vague rendition of the truth.
“You aren’t a felon, right?”
“No, ma’am.”
She nods her head. “You know you’re gonna want to do something about this car, right? It’s going to be a mess,” she says, before pointing to her right. “Turn here.”
“Yeah?” I ask, turning the wheel right.
As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize why she made that comment.
Is this my street?Because if it is, I literally live on a dirt road.
“This is your street,” she says, answering the question I asked myself in my head.
I look at the small street sign that’s crooked and looks like it might fall off with the next gust of wind.
Barlow Drive.
