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Well, “home” was a strong word for the place. I’d left LA in such a hurry that I hadn’t been able to make any arrangements for prepping a transfer of my savings, especially after Alex had had me set up a joint bank account with him and started having all of my money from my practice deposited directly in there. It had been hard enough to extricate myself from the apartment with the gym bag of clothes I’d left with, and as a result, my budget for a place to stay when I moved had been a lot smaller than I would’ve planned for, otherwise. As a result, I hadn’t been able to form any kind of attachment to the place, and not being able to see myself there long term, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to make it homey for myself.
I collapsed on the couch that had come with the apartment and pulled out the little flip phone and dialed the only number I had saved in it.
“Honey? Is that you?” my mom asked as soon as she picked up the phone.
“Who else do you know with an East Tennessee area code?”
“You don’t know everything about me,” she said, her voice sassy.
I laughed. “True enough.”
“How are you, baby?”
I huffed a sigh. “I babysat the other day for Alison again.”
“How was that?”
I couldn’t stop the tears that started to flow. “It made me homesick. I miss my old life, Mom.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
My mom knew how hard I’d worked for my master’s degree. I’d gone to Cal Arts for my undergraduate on a full scholarship, but after I’d graduated, I realized that I’d been missing something. I started taking night classes in psychology and eventually had started a part-time program at UCLA to become an art therapist. It had taken me four years of school and hard work and student loans, and when I’d finished, I started working and I hadn’t regretted a second of it.
Now, having had to give all that up felt like an extra slap to the face.
“We’ll be able to put all this behind you soon, and you’ll be able to come home and start working again in no time.”
I sighed. It was a beautiful thought, and I wanted it to be true more than anything. I just didn’t think she was being realistic.
“Tell me more about your day, sweetie. How was work?”
I sighed, thinking back over everything that had happened. “I met a cute dog.”
“Inside the market?”
“Yeah, crazily enough.”
“Was he a service dog?”
“Don’t think so. He wasn’t wearing a vest or anything. I think this is just a small enough town that people just let you get away with shit if they know you and your habits.”
Something that experience taught me was true everywhere.
“Who was the owner?”
“Some guy who lives on the mountain, apparently. I guess he doesn’t really talk to anyone in town either.”
We spent the rest of our time together having a nice conversation, with her filling me in on what had been going on at her own job and with our family. When we hung up, I was feeling a little bit better, but I was still just as exhausted as I’d been when we started our conversation.
Suddenly, I remembered a beep that had sounded when I’d been on the phone with my mom and checked the screen, where a thin banner said that I had a new voicemail.
Strange. I worked as hard as I could to keep a low profile, having left my iPhone behind in the city and buying burner phones that I had to remember to put minutes on. I clicked on the one button that would open up the voicemail box.
“Hey, baby,” the message started, and I felt the cold sweat start pouring out over my skin. “You’re making it hard to find you, aren’t you?”
I shut my eyes. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.
“Don’t worry, though. I’ll be finding you soon. I bet you miss it back in LA, right? I know it can’t be easy for you to be so far away from everything.”
