Authors: Donna K. Ford
The light pouring in through the bare window was a harsh assault as Gwen blinked the sleep from her eyes. Zeek lay on the floor beside her, the deep resonant snores rumbling through her chest, a clear sign she was sleeping well.
Gwen had been up most of the night moving as many of her things in from the truck as she could manage alone in the dark. Boxes sat piled in the living room and kitchen, and she wondered if she would ever get moved in completely.
She needed coffee.
Gwen stretched and stumbled from her makeshift bed. She sifted through boxes marked
bath
until she located enough supplies for a shower. She gave up on finding her coffeepot.
The hot water beat against her skin, releasing some of the stiffness in her back and neck. She hoped that would be her only night sleeping on the floor. She stretched and messaged her aching muscles and remembered why she hadn’t been camping the past few years. Either the ground was getting harder, or she was getting too old for this.
Once dressed in her faded jeans, a worn and tattered HRC T-shirt, and running shoes, Gwen pulled her white Range Rover Sport off the towing trailer and headed for the nearest place to find a hot cup of coffee. Her smartphone told her there was a diner only half a mile from her house. She chuckled at this. She seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. A coffee shop in this rural community seemed unlikely.
Meticulously following the directions, Gwen found the diner within walking distance of her home. She also found the town had a small bank branch, a grocery store, a post office, a service station for auto repairs, and a small pet-supply store. She took in the number of older residents coming and going around town and began to wonder if she had moved into a retirement community. Well, she did want relaxed. At least it would be quiet.
Gwen walked into the diner to find a small room with quaint booths lining the long window front. Tables were scattered throughout the room, covered with red-and-white checkered vinyl tablecloths that looked like they were as old as the building itself. The counter was white Formica with a strip of aluminum trim that was a throwback from the fifties, complete with red vinyl stools. Gwen smiled to herself as she took in the decor and noted that the patrons seated at the counter looked about as old and worn as the furniture. Gwen took a seat and leaned her elbows on the counter. She took a deep breath, drawing in the smell of fresh coffee, and her stomach growled in anticipation of sustenance. Something smelled delicious and she couldn’t wait to have her hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
Gwen looked around at the occupants. Three old men sat at the counter next to her, sipping their coffee and engaged in a debate regarding some local politics. She caught something about a rock quarry they wanted to remain closed and a lawsuit to stop further excavation. As Gwen settled in, the only waitress in the room appeared in front of her.
“Hello there. What can I get you, sweetie?” the woman asked as she looked Gwen over.
“Coffee, please.”
“How would you like it? Cream? Sugar?”
“Black is fine, thank you.”
Gwen watched the waitress glide along the narrow work space. She efficiently filled coffee cups, cleared the counter, and managed to monitor the status of an order of bacon and toast she was preparing with movements so well-timed and smooth they could have been choreographed.
Gwen estimated her to be in her early- to mid-sixties. She wore her hair at shoulder length with loose curls that danced about her face when she moved. Intense brown eyes scrutinized Gwen as the woman placed the coffee on the counter along with a large muffin.
“On the house,” she said smiling. “Are you new in town?” she asked, reaching beneath the counter and producing silverware.
“Yes,” Gwen said before taking a sip. “I just arrived last night. I purchased the blue house on Pine.”
“Oh yeah? That’s the old Harman place. It’s good to see someone take it on. Welcome to Norris.”
“Thanks.” Gwen extended her hand. “I’m Gwen Palmer.”
“Glenda Ross,” the woman answered, taking Gwen’s hand with a smile.
Gwen noticed the three men had dropped their conversation and were appraising her openly, their expressions distrustful. She bristled under the scrutiny but attempted a smile.
Glenda swatted the counter with a towel in front of the men. “Stop that, you old busybodies. You’re being rude.”
The man closest to Gwen jumped at the scolding. “Sorry, miss. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just can’t help but notice newcomers. Most everyone in Norris knows everyone else. New faces always cause a bit of a stir.”
Gwen laughed at the man’s honesty. “Well, I hope you’ll consider letting me stay.”
The man peered at her for a moment as if trying to make a decision. “Maybe. You say you’re in the old Harman house?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Well then, I guess it’ll depend on what you do with the place.”
Gwen studied the old man thoughtfully, still not sure if he was being friendly. His expression gave nothing away about his mood.
Glenda interrupted the discussion. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’m sure you and the boys will have plenty to keep you entertained with the upcoming festivities. Besides, I think that old place of yours has needed a little update for several years now. I imagine whatever Gwen here does to her own place will do just fine.”
Sam harrumphed. “My place is just fine. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.” He turned to Gwen. “Anyway, good to meet you, Gwen.” The old man shook Gwen’s hand and gave her a wink.
Gwen felt relieved by the gesture. She made small talk with the other customers while finishing her coffee, then got a cup to go and thanked Glenda for the muffin. As she drove home, she was convinced she was in for a culture shock. Everyone who had come into the diner had been retired, and most had lived in Norris for twenty years or more. But she had learned that a good number of the patrons seemed to be transplants from other parts of the country and had landed in the area for various reasons, much like her own. That had to be a good sign. She hoped.
Despite the feeling that her life had suddenly been placed under a microscope, Gwen felt happy about her new surroundings. She got the impression that nothing went without notice in the small town and vowed not to give them reason to single her out. She wasn’t looking to cause any ripples in the pond, but she hoped there would be a little more opportunity for her to meet someone closer to her own age. She was all about peace and quiet, but she wasn’t ready to become the old maid in town.
At ten o’clock, two men arrived from a local moving company as scheduled. Gwen was relieved they were on time and eager to get the rest of her furniture moved into the house so she could return the rental truck. She had planned out each room and instructed the men where to put the heavier items. She didn’t want to have to worry about moving them herself later.
The larger of the two men was broad shouldered, muscular, and eager to fill Gwen in on the history of the town. “My name’s Mike, and this here’s Joey.” Mike gestured toward his partner, who stood a few feet away.
Gwen noticed Joey didn’t make eye contact and stood with his hands in his pockets while Mike talked. The quiet one, she guessed. Joey was smaller than Mike, but the muscles in his arms and chest suggested he was not lacking in strength. Gwen had no doubt the two could get the job done. As they worked Mike gave Gwen information about nearby places to eat, where the nightlife was most entertaining, and where to have a beer and shoot a game of pool.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Mike said as he surveyed the house. “You know, most of these homes were built in the nineteen thirties, when the TVA built the dam for the hydropower. I’m guessing the original part of this house is one of those. You might want to see about the history of the house. They have lots of old photographs of the original town down at the local library. It’s pretty cool stuff.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Gwen was enjoying the friendly chatter and realized she was feeling more at home as more of her belongings found their place in her new house.
With the last of the boxes and furniture unloaded, Gwen waved good-bye to Mike and Joey. She pulled the Rover back onto the towing rack of the rental truck and went inside to get Zeek.
*
Andi smiled to herself as she took in the blue skies and sunshine that marked the beginning of another beautiful day and listened to the chorus of birds singing in her backyard. She tightened the laces on her running shoes before setting out on her three-mile run. It was her usual Sunday morning routine and she looked forward to the scenery that awaited her.
Norris was a small community, nestled on the boundaries of the Norris State Park, which meant an abundance of wildlife coexisted with the people who called the area home. Andi didn’t really like to run, but she made herself endure the three miles every Sunday. She thought it was a good change from her routine of riding her bike to work all week and the mornings of kayaking or paddleboarding she enjoyed. The pattern seemed to work. She felt healthy and her body kept the nice lean tone she preferred, without too much additional effort.
She had promised herself when she moved to Norris to take advantage of the beautiful landscape every day, her way of reminding herself there was still good in the world. It was part of the bargain she’d made with herself to shed the guilt of leaving her profession as a therapist to open a small pet-supply store and live a simple life after the brutal attack had changed her perception of life and her ability to trust. She no longer trusted herself with people and their emotions, no longer had faith in her ability to see beyond the surface and find the good buried within. She couldn’t see beyond her own fear. She never regretted her decision to walk away from that life. Every morning when she stepped outside her small cottage home, she was greeted with flowers, trees, birds, green grass, and sunshine. At least, she liked to think so. Even the rain and snow were beautiful, and as long as she could hold on to that beauty, she had hope that someday she would find that trust again, maybe even find love.
As she ran, she worked through her mental checklist: things she needed to do at the store, errands she needed to run, she still hadn’t finished the lawn. She took a left onto Orchard Road and cut across the street to the sidewalk. Sweat streamed down her neck, leaving wet trails that tickled her skin. She wiped her face with the back of her hand to ward off the inevitable sting as sweat dripped into her eyes.
At the corner of Pine and Crescent Road, Andi noticed a moving truck parked at the old blue house. She was surprised to see anyone there. The house had been empty for a couple of years, except for an occasional brief rental. She hoped this would be a more permanent tenant as the place was in need of some work. The windows and door at the front of the house reminded Andi of a face, and the lack of light and overgrown grass in the yard gave the place a forlorn appearance, like a lonely widow who looked out at the world passing her by.
Andi slowed as she neared the house. Despite her usual distance from neighbors, she was curious to see the newcomer in town. Just as she was passing behind the moving truck, a flash of movement startled her as a squirrel ran straight at her, leaping to the side at the last moment and scampering up a large oak tree. Before Andi could react, a large black form ran out from behind the van, apparently in pursuit of the squirrel. The sheer size of the animal made it impossible for either to avoid the inevitable collision. The animal slammed into Andi, knocking her over.
Out of breath and gasping from the sudden shock, Andi stifled a scream that consequently came out as a croak and sounded like she had swallowed a frog. She peered up at the massive animal that now stood with its paws straddling her shoulders and legs, its wildly drooping jowls hanging in her face. Before she could react, the dog dipped its massive head and licked the full length of her face. “Ick,” she grumbled, but the rush of fear that had gripped her slid away. Obviously her attacker was harmless.
Looking up now at the friendly brown eyes and lolling tongue, Andi laughed. “Okay, okay. I guess you’re forgiven.”
A shadow fell over her suddenly as a figure came running up to them, and a stern voice called out to the dog, “Zeek, come!”
Zeek lumbered to the side and Andi leaned up on her elbows. She saw a tall woman with messy blond hair move to kneel beside her. The woman’s piercing blue eyes were round with fear, and Andi stared into them, momentarily stunned by the woman’s beauty.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” the woman asked, her voice strained with concern as her eyes roamed Andi’s body, assessing her for injury.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’m fine,” Andi stammered as the woman pawed at her arms and clothes. She didn’t know what to think of the sudden assault as she felt hands rake across her arms and legs. Andi was stunned by the pleasant warmth seeping into her skin from the stranger’s touch. She was mesmerized by the gentleness in her fingers, the softness of her skin—and for a moment, Andi didn’t want the feeling to stop.
“I’m terribly sorry about this. Zeek isn’t used to the squirrels yet, and she gets a bit carried away. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m okay. Really.” Andi caught the woman’s wrist to stop the play of hands across her body, her face now hot with embarrassment. The woman was captivating, and as uncomfortable as the situation was, Andi was stunned by her body’s response to the touch as every stroke of soft fingers made her skin tingle. She was sure this betrayal by her body was because it had been so long since she had been touched in any way. Now the simplest connection with another person was sensory overload. The woman froze, her eyes locked onto Andi’s, and a faint smile began at the corners of her mouth. “Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.” She took a deep breath and shifted to stand. She put out her hand to help Andi up. “I’m Gwen Palmer and that lug is my dog, Zeek.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Andi took the offered hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. A sudden stinging in her right hip told her she had a nasty scrape from hitting the asphalt when she fell. She hissed a little as the pain registered, distracting her from the warmth of Gwen’s fingers gripping her hand. Andi pulled away reluctantly and dusted herself off. In the process she noticed a nasty abrasion on her left palm as well. Turning up her hand to inspect the injury, she saw tiny bits of dirt and rocks embedded in her skin, the wound angry and red. The sight of the injury made her wince again.