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The next few hours pass in a blur as the cityscape gives way to familiar country roads lined with tall trees as I make my way to Newport. It feels oddly comforting, like slipping into an old sweater on a cold winter night. In spite of everything that has happened, I feel a sense of calm slowly replacing the bitterness and regret churning in my stomach.
As night falls, the faint glow of street lights comes into view ahead. I turn down Lauren’s street and take in the adorable houses and perfectly kept lawns. It isn’t as fancy of a neighborhood as she grew up in, but it’s still way nicer than anything I’d be able to afford on my own.
Pulling up outside her house, I find her waiting for me on the front porch. She’s holding two glasses and an unopened bottle of wine, and she’s grinning like she’s just won the lottery.
“Welcome home,” she calls out as I step out of the car.
While looking at her warm smile and the inviting glow of her house, I realize that maybe our hometown isn’t such a terrible place to start over again.
“I’m glad to be back,” I say softly, smiling back at her as I stride across the porch to where she’s waiting for me.
“I bet you didn’t expect a welcoming committee, did you?” Lauren jokes, waving the bottle of wine in her hand teasingly. I shake my head, and my smile broadens by the second.
“No, not really.”
She pours us each a glass of wine before leading me inside her beautifully decorated home.
The smell of vanilla-scented candles fill the air, and the lights are set to a soft glow. The house is as pristine as ever, and I find myself taking a moment to appreciate it. The clean walls dotted with family photos, the plush sofa set that looks perfect for sinking into after a long day, the wooden coffee table adorned with magazines—everything about her house screams comfort.
“Let’s toast,” Lauren says while raising her glass in my direction after we’ve settled onto that welcoming couch. I clink mine against hers, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over me. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings.” I take a sip from my glass.
As the wine slides down my throat, I feel a warmth spread through me, pushing away the last remnants of the day’s stress. I lean back against the back of the couch and let my eyes wander around the room.
Lauren is watching me with a thoughtful expression.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Just taking it all in,” I reply with a faint smile. “Still searching for the silver lining.”
Lauren clicks her tongue sympathetically. “Well, one silver lining is that we’re together again.” Then, she reaches over to grab the bottle on the coffee table to refill both of our glasses.
I nod. “You’re right. That is a hell of a silver lining.”
We spend the next hour or so talking, drinking, and laughing. In Lauren’s company, the depression that’s been dogging me actually lifts, and I’m able to relax for what feels like the first time in months.
Eventually, we end up sprawled out on the plush rug in front of her fireplace as we crack open our third bottle.
“So,” she says, releasing a breath, “what do you think you’re going to do for work?”
“I don’t know yet,” I confess. “I need some time to figure things out.”
She nods and reaches out to rub my arm. “You have all the time in the world, Chlo.”
“I just hope that I can make something out of this fresh start,” I murmur apprehensively.
“You will.” Lauren’s certainty is heartening. I wish I could believe in myself the way she does. Then again, she’s always been a supportive friend, one who’s had more faith in me than I’ve had in myself.
Suddenly, she jumps up from her position on the floor with an excited whoop.
“Do you want to see something?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
I blink up at her, momentarily taken aback. I should be used to her seemingly random bursts of energy and excitement by now, but she still has the ability to surprise me.
“Sure,” I say as I let her pull me up from the floor.
Lauren leads me to the room she uses as her studio—she’s an amazing artist, but her work has recently been demoted to a part-time hobby because of her demanding job as an interior designer for her dad’s company. The room has a rustic charm to it, with sketches and paintings adorning the walls and a cluttered workspace filled with paint tubes and brushes.
