Undecided (I’m working on it)
This is Chapter 1 of a story I’m working on. I’m a few chapters in and have the storyline planned out. However I wanted to share the introduction to see if it’s interesting enough.
Chapter 1: The Mountain
It’s cold. I hate it. And the air is thin, which only makes it that much worse. My best friend raves about it up here. Life on the mountain is so wonderful. Either she’s lying or she’s insane, because I’ve only been here a week and I already feel like throwing myself off the side.
Honestly, I should just leave. But I have nowhere to go. If I did, I’d be there instead of freezing my ass off in the guest bedroom of Allie’s mountaintop hideaway. But here I am, tights, leggings, fuzzy socks, thermal, and sweater in the middle of March trying to get warm enough to get some work done.
“If you’d just gain a few pounds you wouldn’t be so cold. It’s really not that bad. It got up to sixty the other day,” Allie told me, after I had spent my first night shivering so hard that I couldn’t sleep.
Gain a few pounds? How about we just turn on the heat? Or better yet, we move back down into civilization where spring is in full swing and we can wear short sleeves without turning into popsicles.
I don’t mean to complain. I really don’t. She took me in, and I’m grateful. After I had ended my three-year relationship, I had no clue what I was going to do or where I was going to go. When you spend so long building something with someone, life kind of falls apart when the relationship does. I’m cold and hurting. And I just want to be back in my little apartment in the valley, where it’s rarely drops below seventy degrees. But I can’t go back. And no matter how much I hate this place, it’s a roof over my head and a bed to sleep on.
“I know you hate the cold, but you can’t tell me that that isn’t beautiful,” Allie comes up behind me as I stare out the large glass door that leads to the balcony.
She’s right. It is beautiful. I’m not used to all the trees and green. Not up close anyways. You can see a few other houses peeking out here and there. But they’re few and far between. She loves that. There is a tiny town a few miles down a narrow, poorly paved road. Once a week, she’ll drive there to pick up groceries and socialize. Then she holes up here for the rest of the time, knitting and editing manuscripts the publishing company she works for sends. I mean, it’s a nice set up. She makes good money and doesn’t even have to get out of bed if she doesn’t want to. But it has to get lonely and boring. There’s nothing to do and cable and internet can only occupy you for so long. I’m going to end up going stir crazy. How can you be productive when you’re so cut off from the rest of the world?
“So, you remember how I was telling you about that guy - the one that owns the online business and travels around giving lectures on how to start a company? Yeah, he asked me to come to his event in Arizona. He’s paying for the whole trip.”
I grab the cup of coffee she’s holding out to me and sit on the couch before replying, “Are you going to go? I thought you said he wasn’t really looking for anything serious and you didn’t want to waste your time? Or are you thinking about starting a business?”
She sits across from me in a large chair that’s layered with some of the knitted blankets she’s made since moving up here. “When he was here last month we had a great time. I wasn’t really expecting anything. But I felt that spark. And he says he’d like to explore things a little more. Plus, you’d get a week to yourself. It’s been years since you had that much time just for you. It might be nice.”
She’s right. I haven’t been on my own in years. Not for more than a few hours while Trey was at work. I hate it up here. But at least if I’m by myself, there’s nobody telling me to get out of bed or admire the beauty. I can turn the heat up a bit and sleep for a few days.
“When are you leaving?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager to be rid of her.
“Thursday. If you’re ok being up here alone.”
“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just get some work done and eat all your food,” I smile and joke.
“Yes! Eat it all. I keep telling you that you just need to gain a few pounds. I want to take you on that hike we used to talk about. But you’re so tiny I think you’ll disappear or freeze to death.”
I roll my eyes and sip my drink.
“You know I’m right,” she teases, adding, “Will you come into town with me later? A few of the neighbors are trying to get together and start a book club. That’s right up your alley. And it would be good for you to socialize with people other than me.”
“I socialize plenty. I was just talking to Edgar and Rosie this morning.”
“They’re cats. You’re counting cats as your socialization.”
“Are you saying cats aren’t people too?”
“They’re cats. I mean, I love my babies. But even if they do understand you, they don’t care. I’m pretty sure Rosie just pretends we don’t exist aside from meal times. And Edgar runs into walls. You need people who can talk back. And if the cats are, then I think you need to come to town for an entirely different reason. There’s a really good doctor there that might be able to help.”
Another eye roll. When I’m at my best, I usually have some witty comeback. But I don’t even care to try. I’m spending too much energy shivering for that.
“So yes? You’ll come to town with me?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Fine. But I’m not putting on makeup, talking to any men under forty, and if someone tells me I need to gain a few pounds, I’m waiting in the car.”
“No men under forty? Are you looking for a sugar daddy now?” It’s all teasing and jokes. We’ve always poked fun at each other, but I can tell she’s going out of her way to try to keep things light and cheer me up. It isn’t working. But it’s sweet she’s trying.
I fake a laugh, “Yes. That’s exactly it. I’m looking for a sugar daddy.”
She’s happy I play along. I can see it in her eyes. After a pleased smile, she stands, “Be ready in an hour. I don’t care if you’re still in your pajamas – I’ll drag you out to the car.”
An hour passes too quickly. A warm shower lulls my body into a false sense of security. It’s shocked back into shivers and aching the second my feet touch the tile of the bathroom floor. How do I dress for town? Will we be inside a house? Does everyone keep it as frigid as Allie? Layers. I’d rather feel what it’s like to sweat again than have to socialize while frozen. My hair is still damp and I can’t find thick enough socks to warm the blocks of ice I’m walking on when Allie is yelling at me to get out to the car.
She keeps her car colder than the house. It’s like she’s never heard of a heater. And I can already tell that I don’t have enough layers on for this. But we speed down the road, taking curves like it’s a NASCAR race, so I suck it up and try to focus on the shitty music she blasts. It’s pretty much all parody rap. I didn’t realize anyone actually listened to this stuff.
The town is basically a handful of old buildings concentrated on either side of one main road. There’s a local grocery store that resembles the ones from old-timey movies, only a bit cleaner. I notice a library, two antique shops, a diner, a coffee shop, two fast food chain restaurants, a gas station, and a tiny police station. There are a few other small businesses. But after one stoplight, the shops turn into homes. There’s a patch of residencies that looks like a normal neighborhood you’d find anywhere. But it’s just a patch, and the homes space out, growing in size and uniqueness. I can see how someone could love this. It’s cute. Quaint. But is there even a bar or a place to go dancing?
“The meeting is just a little outside of town. The Millers have a huge house over on Cottage Grove. Their kids have all moved out now and I think Candice is just a little lonely.”
The way people talk about each other in small towns amuses me. Everyone thinks they’re safer and their business is more private because there are less people around. But really, everyone knows everyone and they all love to take whatever tidbits they can get to gossip over.
The house is daunting. It’s three stories, stone, and if it were any larger, it would probably resemble a small castle. The half-circle driveway is already full of cars. Either they own a ridiculous number of vehicles, or everyone on the mountain decided this book club thing was worth showing up to.
Allie is excited. It’s easy to see. Her eyes light up at the sight of so many cars. Of course. Like I was thinking earlier, it must get lonely being in her large house, miles above the town, without any human interaction six days out of the week. She grabs my hand and basically drags me up the cobblestone path to the palatial entrance. One of the beautiful, heavy, wooden, double doors is propped open, with a welcome sign hanging on the other. We walk in without knocking. These people are so trusting. I’d never leave a home this grand open and vulnerable. Anyone could just walk in and steal whatever. Or worse. But as Allie would say, “This isn’t the valley. People are good here. You don’t even have to lock your doors. It’s safe.” She’s naïve. Nowhere is safe. But I can see how it would be easy to feel that way in an area like this.
“Allie!” A willowy redhead with perfect teeth and a melodic voice bounces towards us. She seems genuinely excited to see my friend, which means she’s probably Charlotte. Allie told me about how they like to go hiking together and drive into the city once a month to drink and dance. She could be worth getting to know.
“Charlotte! I didn’t think you were coming. This is Andie. She’s the friend I was telling you about – the one I’ve known since I was like six. She’s living with me for a while. Andie, this is Charlotte,” Allie introduces us.
“Allie and Andie. I bet that was fun growing up,” Charlotte gently teases, then points down the long hallway, “Everyone is in the den. There’s a ton of food. I’m thinking Candice doesn’t know what to do with herself since Jeremy left for college. I’ve never seen so many homemade baked goods in one room before. I’m going to try to find a bathroom in this place. But save me a seat if you can!”
She walks off, looking a bit lost. I don’t blame her. There are too many doors and no indicators. Allie grabs my wrist and pulls me down the hall. I feel like she’s been here before. She doesn’t hesitate as she leads around two turns and into a large room filled with couches, chairs, tables piled with food, and more people than I care to try to interact with. It’s loud, like the food court in a mall. Everyone is standing, walking around and talking to one another. Over one another. But it all seems friendly enough. It’s mostly middle-aged women and couples. But there are a few younger people scattered about, as well as a handful that are elderly. It’s probably a good representation of the community. Not many people our age can afford to own homes – let alone the type they sell around here.
I begin to feel like a show pony as Allie drags me from one group to another. It’s the same conversation again and again.
“Hey! How are you? How are the kids? This is my friend Andie. She’s living with me for a while, but I’m trying to convince her to move up here permanently. She doesn’t like the cold. But there’s just no better place than our cute little mountain. Don’t you just love it up here?” Allie spits out the same spiel again and again.
They’re all polite. Some ramble on about how they were weary at first, but fell in love with the place. Others invite me to dinner or to meet their single adult sons. I’m asked what I do for a living by a few of the older couples, who then proceed to regret asking when they realize that they have no clue what my data analysis job entails and have no interest in learning more.
I feel complete relief when a slightly plump, middle aged woman with smile lines and crow’s feet stands at the front of the room and the noises start to die down.
“Welcome everyone. I’m so happy to see so many friendly faces. I just love when our community can come together like this. If everyone can take a seat, we’ll go over the schedule for the next two months, including what books we’ll be reading and when we’ll meet. It’s ok if you can’t come to every meeting. Just pop in when you’re available. Also, if anyone has any requests for snacks or suggestions for future books, feel free to let me know after the meeting, or you can email or text me. Let’s get started!”
I tune out most of the meeting. The books sound pretty lame. They want to meet too often. Everyone is faking excitement I think. And soon, talk of books and meetings turns into gossip that drifts into individual conversations, until everyone is standing around the food, talking about their kids and health. I want Allie to suggest we leave, but she keeps running off to say hi to whoever she didn’t get to before the meeting started. She can tell I’m not interested in being introduced to every person here, so she no longer tries to drag me around. I’m standing awkwardly off to the side – the obvious outsider.
“You’re the guest Allie has been telling everyone about, right?” A man approaches. He looks older than me, but younger than a lot of others in the room. I’d guess he’s probably in his thirties. He’s tall and slightly scruffy, and it feels like he should have stood out amongst all these people. But I didn’t see him until he was already speaking.
I nod, “Yep. That’s me.”
“How are you liking it? Allie’s place is a little out of the way. I imagine it can get a bit boring up there,” he casually leans against the wall, turning his head to look down on me as he speaks.
“It’s not exactly my style. But it’s pretty,” I feel slightly uncomfortable. I’m not sure if it’s his size or the deepness of his voice when he speaks. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention.
“It is. It’s beautiful up there. Are you going to be staying a while?”
“Uhm, I’m not sure yet,” I don’t know why I’m answering. It’s an odd question, seeing as he hasn’t even told me his name yet. I quickly follow with, “Have you known Allie long?”
He shifts his weight, “About as long as anyone else here. It’s a small community. Nobody stays a stranger for very long.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Well it was nice meeting you Andie. I hope to see you around,” he moves quickly for his stature, and I don’t even get the chance to ask who he is. I’ll ask Allie. But it still feels slightly unsettling. I never told him my name. But Allie has been telling it to everyone here tonight, so maybe he overheard. Or maybe she sent him over. That sounds like something she’d do. But the rationalization doesn’t make the strange feeling go away.
I spend the rest of the event scrolling through my phone and trying to stay as out of the way as possible. The second Allie reemerges from the crowd, I ask if we can leave. As much as I complain about how lonely and boring the mountain must get, I have had way more socialization than I desire and am ready for the isolation of my cold room at the bottom of Allie’s house.
“Yeah. We should get back. I’m sure the cats have found something to destroy by now,” she laughs. She’s glowing, and I can tell this is exactly what she needed. Her weekly recharge. It has left me feeling drained and overwhelmed.
In the privacy of the car, I inquire about the man, “Hey Allie, who is the tall guy that was wearing the grey sweater? The scruffy one with the green eyes and super deep voice.”
She looks confused, “What guy?”
“I don’t know. He looks like he’s in his thirties maybe. He knew my name and says he’s known you since you got up here.”
“It’s not ringing any bells.”
My mouth goes dry, “He’s pretty distinct. Tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, kinda pale skin. He had on a grey sweater and dark jeans I think. His voice is really deep. And he moves pretty quickly for a guy that size.”
“Yeah, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. He’s probably the kid of one of the older couples I introduced you to. They’re always telling me about their grown children who sometimes visit. But I don’t really know any of them.”
“He acted like he knew you personally. He even mentioned how your house was out of the way, like he knew where you lived or had been there or something.”
She laughs, “It’s a small town Andie. Stop being so paranoid. Everyone knows where I live. It’s a great house.”
I should feel reassured by how little she’s concerned, but I don’t. She’s probably right. These people all seem to know everything going on in each other’s lives. And her house is distinct. But I’ve spent my whole life in the city, where nobody knows where you live unless you tell them - and you don’t tell too many people so your place doesn’t get robbed. I’d prefer it if strangers didn’t know where I slept.