"Well, my lovelies, this drive is almost over. It looks as though we have finally made it." She sighed wearily while stifling a yawn. A large and colorful welcome sign loomed on the side of the road, beckoning every driver a sweet greeting to the town. “Welcome to New Hope. Home of blue skies and sunny dispositions. Population 1283.”  She mimicked a tour guide’s voice as she drove past the sign. “Well, 1284 now.”

The two tiresome Sphinx cats yowled in unison. Whether it was in response or in protest, no one will ever know. The forty-hour cross-country drive had taken its toll on everyone inside the rented mini-van. But it was nearly over as she turned off the quiet county route and into a housing development with a landscaped round-about, giving options on directions toward homes of various sizes. “Townhomes at The Gallery.” She read aloud a backlit stone sign marking one the entrances. “Sounds fancy.” She urged the van in the direction of the neatly rowed townhome section of the development.

 She briefly glanced at a sticky note with the address and read each street sign as she rolled down the development's main strip. She noticed the names of the streets all corresponded with the name of a famous artist. “Well played, Pennsylvania. Well played.” Spotting the sign with the correct street name, she dropped the sticky note and made a hard left. “Oh, LeTrec Lane. That’s it.” The cats howled in protest and the contents of the packed van shifted at the sudden change in direction. "Sorry, guys. It snuck up on me."

She squinted as she tried to read the numbers on the doors of the very few house fronts lit by porch lights. With it being well after midnight, most residents had long gone to bed by this hour. “Well, 113 is odd, so at least it should be on the right.” She hoped as she rolled slowly down the dark tree-lined street.  With a reminder to thank her new next-door neighbor for the porchlight solid, she pulled the van into the last driveway on the street. "An end unit. Nice!"

Turning off the van, she opened her door to walk around to the passenger side cargo door. The two cats began officially singing the song of their people. "It's okay, babies. It’s all over now. Let's go home." She hoisted both animal carriers and headed for the front porch.

Even in the dead of night, she could see that her porch was the only one bereft of decoration. Every porch had pots of overflowing flowers, welcome signage, garden flags, etc. "These people are serious about their curb appeal." She giggled while flipping over the corner of her Welcome mat with her foot. "Under the mat; just like he said. Where the hell am I, Mayberry?!" She shook her head and placed one carrier on the porch to free her hand to grab the key.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. It was like staring into a black hole. She reached in with her right hand and felt around the wall until she found a light switch. Flipping all three up, the living room, porch, and driveway were all suddenly bathed in light. “Let there be light, bitches.” She rolled her eyes at the saying that always seemed to slip past her lips when she flipped new switches.

She stepped in and looked around in awe at the beauty of the place. "When he said all contents convey, he wasn’t kidding." Before her was a fully furnished and decorated space. It was a tad more pedestrian than she preferred, but it would do for now. “Boys, I don’t think we are in Seattle anymore.”

She brought in both pet carriers and turned around to return to the van. Mentally noting which items to grab, she opened the van's trunk. "Litterbox, pet cooler, and overnight bag." She verbally checked off her list as she picked up the items to take inside.

Once inside, she plugged in the litterbox, placing it in the downstairs powder room. "Alright, gentlemen. Your spaceship awaits." She joked to her high maintenance roommates, who prefer the high-end automatic scooping box. She turned on the sink spigot just enough for a small amount of water to dribble out. "This will have to do until I unpack your fountain in the morning, boys."

She returned to the living room to release the yowling felines before the neighbors complain. "Why don't you two take a tour while I fix us a late-night snack." She opened the carriers just in time to watch two pink rockets bolt across the room and skitter across random pieces of furniture. "Pinball wizards." She laughed, picked up the small cooler, then headed toward the kitchen.

Opening the cooler on the spacious counter, she plucked up two small food bowls and a container of Smalls fresh cat food. At the sound of the dishes clanking onto the counter, the two cats magically appeared at her feet and began to rub against her calves. The ravenous cats barely let her place the dishes on the floor before they began to eat.

Back in the living room, she unzipped her overnight bag and dug around until she found a bottle of water and a protein bar. She sighed as she ripped open the wrapper and took a bite. "If I don't get to the grocery store tomorrow, I'm liable to eat what you guys leave in the dish." Existing on protein bars and bottled water for the last few days while on the road had taken its toll. She was more than ready to eat real food tomorrow.

Reaching back into the bag, she grabbed her toiletries bag and a pair of fresh pajamas. Heading up the stairs and turning on lights as she went, she searched for the master suite. She opened the first door in the hallway and found a guest room. It was so meticulously decorated, that she half expected to find a person sleeping in the bed and clothes in the closet. With a curious nod, she closed the door and continued to the next. It was only the guest bathroom, so she closed it and continued to make her way down the hallway.

Opening this door jarred her entire being. Before her was a nursery, decked out in fresh pastel pinks fit for the tiniest of princesses. She gasped and blinked back the tears burning her eyes as she slammed the door shut. But it was too late. She knew the beautiful blue eyes that had haunted her dreams for the last several months would visit her again tonight.

Physically forcing herself to continue down the hallway, she made it to the last door. She swung it open wide and found what she had been looking for, the master suite with a real bed. After three days of driving and short naps in the van seat, she was more than ready for a hot shower and a long sleep in that bed.

Heading for the master bathroom, she turned on the light and was greeted by a giant soaking tub. "Well, scratch that shower. Bubble bath it is!" She giddily walked over to the tub and turned on the spigot. She liked her water somewhere between boiling and the bowels of Hell, so the bathroom quickly filled with steam. After pouring in a little of her body wash, the steam became fragrant with the scent of vanilla and sandalwood.

She quickly stripped off the cropped tee, leggings, and undergarments she had been wearing the entire trip and stepped in the tub to soak away the three days of travel grime that plagued her body. Yanking the hairband out of her messy bun released a cascade of thick, blonde curls that now floated in the bubbly water all around her.

 She had already scrubbed herself twice, washed her hair, and had been soaking for approximately twenty minutes before the water began to cool. It was at this moment she begun to wonder about a towel. "Every single time. Some things never change." She muttered as she stared at the beautiful, vaulted ceiling with a star filled skylight. "At least the view is amazing while I drip dry." She flipped the lever on the tub with her big toe and the tub began to drain.

Hearing the scurry of cat feet in the bedroom, she looked over to the bathroom door. A towel and bathrobe hung on the back of the door. "Well, I be damned. This place really does have everything."

Tiptoeing cautiously to the door, she grabbed the robe from the hook and pushed her arms in the sleeves then wrapped it around her. It was so thick and plush, like something from Nordstrom or a high-end day spa. She noticed it faintly smelled of lavender as she tied the robe's belt then pulled down the towel to wrap her long, wet hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied fluffy slippers sitting between the door and the sink. She sunk her feet into them and grinned. "A girl could get used to this kind of treatment."

Plodding the few steps into the bedroom in her new slippers, she saw her two cats on the foot of the bed. Both beautiful, pink, and hairless creatures were on their backs, stretched out to their full length. "Didn't take you two long to get comfortable." Slight snores bubbled up from their parted lips as their only reply. She noticed from this angle that they resembled roasting ducks more than cats, and her mouth began to water. "I really need to eat real food tomorrow." She bent down to lightly kiss the soft skin between their ears. “Goodnight, Chico and Zeppo.  Rest well, for you have a full day of shenanigans and havoc to wreak among these walls tomorrow.”

Padding to the door, she turned off the hall light and bedroom light, startled at the sudden darkness. Being a city girl all her life, even in the middle of the night, there was still the lights of the city through the blinds to light up her apartment. Here it was simply a black void before her.

She felt her way back to the bed and pulled down the blankets. Again, the slight smell of lavender greeted her. She stepped out of the slippers and slid in between the sheets, making sure not to disturb her fellow exhausted travelers. She felt herself falling asleep even before her head hit the fluffy pillows. 

Her eyes popped open, and she was driving along 165 near Mount Rainier State Park. She knew she had just spent the day hiking trails with a group of her college friends and was now heading back to her apartment in Seattle. Her head bobbed to The Hu song that blared from her stereo speakers as she swiftly maneuvered her jet-black Bronco through the switchback curves.

Just one night. Can I get just one night of sleep without reliving this?!

Noticing a billow of black smoke eerily rising from the treetops ahead, she slowed the Bronco to a crawl as she entered the last switchback. Praying to God it wasn’t one of her friends’ cars that had gotten into an accident, the wreckage slowly came into view as she cautiously steered the car through the curves. She let out a small sigh of relief as she didn’t recognize the silver Honda Pilot teetering on the edge of the blacktop at the tail-end of the switchback.

Just keep driving. Call 911 and just keep driving.

She slowed her car to a stop just outside the deadliest part of the curve and pressed the hazard light button before unfastening her seatbelt. She pocketed the emergency tool that had been stashed in her door’s cup holder.

No. Nope. Stay in the car. Call 911. They are the heroes, not you! Don’t do this again.

Sliding out of her car, she could barely make out an unmoving figure in the Pilot’s driver’s seat. The SUV looked like it could ignite any minute now. Heart kicking into high gear, her Vibram clad feet pounded the blacktop between her car and the wreckage.

You don’t want to do this, sis. You know how this is going to end. Why won’t you listen to me and just call 911?!

She grabbed the passenger front door handle and yanked several times to no avail.

Idiot. You know it’s locked. It’s always locked.

Pulling the emergency tool from the front pouch pocket of her hoodie, she swung hard toward the passenger window to break it. Pushing her hand through the broken shards, she pressed the button to unlock the door.

Grabbing the door handle once again, she tried to open the passenger door. It made a terrible echoing creak as it tried to open but was hung up on the crumpled front corner panel.

Stop wasting time! Sheesh. The back door, duh! You know this one is jammed. Look at the front end! It’s toast.

Moving to the rear passenger door, she pulled on the handle and the door mercifully opened. Climbing onto the bench seat, she scrambled between the front seats to assess the driver.

You know she is dead. Why must you waste your time checking every single time?

Once bright blue eyes, now clouded with death, stared out the window into nothingness. Checking her neck for a pulse confirmed what she already knew. The driver was dead and most likely killed on impact. Flames licking to life just beyond the cracked windshield urged her to back away from the driver and exit the door from which she entered.

You better move faster, sis. You are running out of time.

As she turned toward the back of the SUV, her left foot became caught on something behind the driver’s seat. Yanking her foot toward her produced a utilitarian grey messenger bag. As she unwound the bag’s strap from her foot, a small pink bottle fell from the flap and rolled toward the open door.

Shit.

She quickly leaned over the back seats to stare down into the cavernous third row to find an infant carrier strapped to the driver’s side. Silence.

Oh, God.

Hands shaking and holding her breath, she reached for the carrier’s canopy and folded it down.

Lord, please help me.

A tiny head, crowned with wispy blonde curls, bobbled in response. Then a single coo echoed in the wreckage. Staring back at her from the small mirror on the headrest was the same bright blue eyes, only these danced with new life and wonder.

Uhh, the car’s on fire, remember?? You might want to get both of you outta there stat!

Her fingers a fury of necessary speed but also the confusion of unfamiliarity, she stumbled and yanked fruitlessly a few times before releasing the straps and bar that held the infant in place. Pulling the diaper bag’s strap over her head, she effortlessly scooped up the warm lump of baby girl. Once her feet landed safely back on the blacktop, she felt like she could breathe again.

Get to safety!

Quickly putting distance between her and the now engulfed SUV, she headed back to her Bronco and her cellphone. She looked down at the infant girl, who just stared up at her with adoration in her eyes. Rounding her still open car door, she called out to the only person who could help her now.

“Alexa, dial 911.”

Listening to the car’s Bluetooth connecting her to emergency services caused a sigh of relief as she pulled the diaper bag’s strap over her head with her one free arm. Dropping the bag on the center console, a high-pitched hissing sound captured her attention.

Oh, no.

With barely enough time to brace her and the baby, the front door of her Bronco knocked them both back as the Pilot exploded into a mass of flame and debris. Feeling shellshocked and no time to recover a second sound, deeper and from behind her, fills her brain for only a milli-second.

Here we go. Shit’s about to get real now.

A bright rainbow of colors. The jarring sound of metal on metal. And the weightlessness of suddenly flying through space. All senses suddenly stopped among re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere and crash-landing sunny-side up onto the forested creek-bed below.

Zero out of ten for that landing, sis. Never flying this airline ever again.

“Can you hear me? This is Emergency Services.” A strangely robotic voice echoed among the high-pitched hums. “Based on your car’s GPS, we have sent EMS to your location.” Her Bronco, lying on its side ahead of her, giving her the only modicum of hope that help was on the way.

Slowly opening her eyes, she realized her head rested on her right shoulder. As her vision cleared and her eyes could once again focus, her stare worked its way down the length of her arm to her blood covered hand, lying palm up. Empty.

Ohhhh. God.

Lying just out of reach beyond her hand, was the baby girl’s tiny body. Her head was turned at an odd angle and her tiny limbs no longer parallel with her body. Staring through her soul, the baby’s once bright blue eyes were now clouded with the same death as her mother’s.

Unable to do anything but breathe, she shed silent tears as her vision once again lost focus.

I tried, honey. I really tried. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry!

A sweet, deep slumber called to her then. And she desperately wanted to go to it. The painless, forever kind of sleep that would end this nightmare once and for all. She danced on the edge of lucidity for only a moment more until she plunged head-first into that deep void of welcoming nothingness. 

Her eyes popped open and nothing around her seemed familiar. She shot up to sitting and threw off the comfortable blankets. Realizing she had been sleeping in her new bed while still wearing her bathrobe slowly sunk in as the morning brain fuzziness burned off. She looked around for the towel that was on her mop of thick, black curls when she fell asleep and found it on the floor.

“Coffee.” She mumbled to herself as she rolled out of the bed and shoved her feet into her slippers. She glanced at the foot of the bed, where two round indents remained in the blankets where the cats had previously slept. Reaching up to run her fingers through her hair, assessing the damage the wet head to bed had caused. Reaching the mirror, wincing at what could only be called catastrophic, she decided to tame the mane in a messy bun with the hairband she left on the tub side.

Just then, the echoing sound of what could only be a plastic cup falling from an upper kitchen cabinet onto the tile floor below, grated her ears and nerves. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Coffee.” She grumbled to no one and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, she spotted a yellow plastic tumbler slowly rolling across the floor and stopping near the large stainless fridge. Looking to the cabinet next to the sink, a pink curled tail was poking out the bottom of the cabinet door. The tail flicked twice then disappeared. Slowly shaking her head, she turned toward the countertop that housed a Keurig coffee machine and mug tree filled with handmade clay mugs. “Coffee.” She grinned.

The cabinet door above the Keurig slightly opened as she stepped in front of the machine.

*Plop*

Like a treat from a vending machine, a K-cup fell from the cabinet heavens, landing wrapper up in front of the machine. “Thank you, Chico.” She looked down at the pod. “Lancaster County brewing company. Bonus points for locally sourced.” She picked it up and gave it a cynical sniff. “Cinnamon Sticky Bun, huh?? We will see.” She swiped a galaxy glazed mug from the mug tree and pressed the machine’s buttons it took to begin the magical process of extracting the nectar of the Gods from the plastic pod.

Turning back to the yellow tumbler, she picked it up from the floor and headed to the fridge. “Thanks for the cup, Zeppo. I have to stay hydrated.” Using the ice-maker and water dispenser in the freezer door, she filled the cup and took several sips before turning back to the finishing cup of coffee.

Picking up the freshly brewed mug of coffee by the handle, she headed for the living room. Setting the drinks on the coffee table, she reached for her overnight bag to find a set of exercise clothes. Finding a matching set, she grabbed the racerback tank and capri leggings then headed to the powder room to change out of the bathrobe.

As a conscious reminder to take it back upstairs, she swung the robe over the banister and let it come to rest against the golden bird finial that prevented it from hitting the floor. Noticing movement near the driveway from the sidelight window, she immediately froze.

No one was supposed to be here. No one was supposed to know she was here. She eyed her overnight bag out of the corner of her eye, then turned back to the dark shape of a figure getting larger in the frosted glass of the front foyer. The looming figure was now almost on the porch.

Her heart rate quickened as she darted across the living room to her bag. Slipping her hand into the unzippered front pouch, her hand melted around cool steel. Just the feeling of her compact Sig against her skin made her feel secure. She gripped the gun then shoved it down the waist of the back of her leggings as she made her stand only a few feet from the door.

The doorbell rang.

Dead silence.

She stared at the door, contemplating her next moves.

Suddenly, Zeppo and Chico fly past her. To her left, Zeppo leaps onto the side table, nearly knocking over the Tiffany style lamp. He pokes his head through the drapes and blinds to get a better look while Chico, sniffing the air wearily, paced at the door.

Now knocking, the interloper seems persistent.

“Uhhh, Ms. Simmonds??” A vaguely familiar male voice called out from the porch. “It’s just me, Roy. Roy, uhhh, Oberlund. From the, uhh, dealership.” The sound of riffling papers on a clipboard echoed on the small front porch. “I’m sorry to disturb you so early, ma’am. But we, uhh, have someone interested in renting the van this afternoon.”

She blew out the breath she didn’t even realize she has been holding as she pulled her gun and sat it in the bowl on side table. She unlocked and opened the front door. Before her stood a more than middle-aged man in a clean coverall uniform, complete with patches bearing the emblem of the dealership and his name. He tipped his ball cap at her and gave her a wide grin.

“Good morning, Roy. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Please, call me Della.” She smiled as she tried to hold the door with one hand and stooping to wrangle the cats with the other. “I made it in pretty late last night and haven’t had a chance yet to unload the van.” The last word came out in a huff as Zeppo jumped over her arm and landed proudly outside on the welcome mat.

“Sweet Baby Jesus! What on God’s green Earth is that thing?!” Shocked, Roy backpedaled and blocked his face with the clipboard.

“It’s just a cat, Roy.” Della slid out the door, keeping Chico safely inside. “He’s a Sphynx cat.”

“He hasn’t a speck of hair, the poor fella. Is he sick? Does he have the cancer?” Roy, now more curious than frightened, bent down for a closer look.

“No, he is quite well. Sphynx cats sometimes have a genetic mutation in their DNA, causing them to be born without hair.” She scooped up Zeppo, who was curiously staring up at Roy. “Zeppo here, and his brother, are both hairless. And, for the most part, harmless.”

“Harpo or Chico?” Roy inquired.

“Chico.” Della tipped her head to the side. ‘But, how did you know not Groucho?”

Roy tipped an imaginary cigar and did his best Marx brother impersonation, ‘You see, my dear, he doesn’t have a mustache.”

Della belly laughed for the first time in weeks. Zeppo yowled loudly in protest. It was the lousy impersonation mixed with his brother being the topic of conversation that was too much for him. Now he was ready to go back inside and be fed extra breakfast to soothe his ruffled imaginary feathers.

Opening the front door just wide enough for Zeppo, she pushed him through the sliver and shut the door before he could turn around. “Like I said, Roy. I arrived late last night and haven’t unloaded the van yet this morning. How soon do you need it?”

“Oh, no worries there, Ms. Della. I can help you unload, if you don’t mind. You just tell me where to put it all.” He smiled again and tipped his hat. “We can probably get it all in the garage in a matter of minutes.”

“Really? You don’t mind?” She turned back toward the front door. “Let me just go grab the keys and open the garage door.”

Back through the front door and crossing the living room, she unlocked and opened the door that headed out to the garage. Stepping into darkness and feeling along the wall, she found the automatic opener button and pressed it. Slowly the large door opened, allowing light into the garage.

The oversized garage was just as furnished as the rest of the home. The wall closest to her housed several sets of heavy-duty shelving. Across the garage, a brand-new fat tire bicycle hung on the wall. But, the piece de resistance was the truck parked in the center.

Eyes wide and mouth agape, she stared at her dream truck like a minion looks at a banana. She knew she must look like an idiot standing dumbfounded in her own garage, having no idea until just now this truck was sitting here. She knew an automobile conveyed with the purchase, but how it just happened to be a new Ford Maverick, was a one hell of a coincidence.

“Wowza, Ms. Della. That sure is a pretty truck you got there.” Roy uttered from the edge of the doorway. “That’s a different shade of blue.” Roy bypassed the front of the truck and headed for the shelving. “Is this where you’d like your boxes, ma’am?” He pointed to the rows of empty shelving that were more than up to the task of holding all that was left of her worldly possessions.

Della jumped and swallowed. “Tiffany.” She turned to Roy and blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Ma’am?” Roy questioned.

“Tiffany. It’s Tiffany Blue. Like the store in New York City. Their jewelry boxes are this color blue.” Della recovered and smiled. “And, yes. These shelves are fine for unloading the boxes. This will make it easier to unpack.” She dropped the keys into Roy’s waiting hand. “And, thanks again. You’re a Godsend.”

“Nothing to it, Ma’am. We’re a pretty tight-knit little community. I’m sure the welcoming committee will be by soon enough.” He stopped and turned back to her just before he reached the trunk of the van. “But, I will tell you, Ms. Della. They are going to be just as shocked as I am. You aren’t at all the lady we expected.” He smiled and pressed the button for the trunk to open, then pocketed the keys.

“Really? How so?” Della cocked her head to one side.

“Well. When we got word that a lady named Della was moving across the country with only her two cats, we expected someone, uhh, much, uhhh…” He motioned with his hand at her, begging her to finish what he didn’t want to say. He turned and began assessing the boxed contents of the van.

“My grandmother.” She grinned. “You were expecting my grandmother.” Della stepped down onto the cool garage floor.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “Now I will have to alert the sewing circle that quilting may not be one of your hobbies.”

“You do that.” She giggled as she stepped out into the morning sun to help with the boxes. “I’m trying to keep my hobbies as active as I can for as long as I can. I will get back to them in forty or so years.” Della held out her hands so Roy could give her a few boxes. They made quick work unloading the van. Roy was right when he said it would only take a few minutes.

“Well, there’s plenty of trails for the new-fangled bike you got on the wall there. I see you kids all over town and country on those things.” With his hands full, Roy motioned to the bike on the wall as he placed the last two boxes on the shelf. “You are really going to like it here. You’re a good fit, Ms. Della.”

Della pondered Roy’s last statement. She hadn’t felt like she fit in anywhere for some time now. And, with no place to return to in Seattle, she had placed all her bets on starting over here. “I sure hope so.”

She waved to Roy as he backed the van out of her driveway, then pressed the button to close the garage door. Opening the house door and stepping back into the living room, she spotted the coffee mug on the table. She grinned and reached for mug and immediately felt it had now lost all warmth.  A small whine escaped her pursed lips. “Coffee.”