Page 60 of Unplanned Target

And the scenery is definitely different out here. Both from inside the main building, and the neighborhood I called home in Memphis.

The subdivision where Allie and I lived had been around for decades. It was well-established and had lots of retired residents. As a result, yards were lush, trees were big, and houses stood side-by-side without a single empty lot.

The subdivision I’m wandering through now, is nothing like that. There are a few mostly completed homes, but for the most part, the place is empty. The nearly finished houses have sod covering their yards, and a little bit of landscaping, but everything is newly planted and small. Trees are barely taller than I am, and bushes haven’t even come close to creating solid barriers.

There’s another big difference, at least based on what I can see now. While there was some consistency in style where I lived before, the homes here are all very different. One is super traditional looking, with gables and a pretty porch. It’s got shutters flanking its large windows and a trellis in place that will one day be covered in climbing vines. The house directly beside it is more cottagey. It almost has a tutor vibe, with interestingly shaped windows and sharply angled roof lines. The third house—the one that seems to be the most finished of all of them, based on what I can see through the gigantic windows, is modern-looking. It almost appears to be constructed of cement, with large panes of glass breaking up the monotony of the neutral color in a way that is really aesthetically pleasing. Even the plants on this property have a more contemporary vibe. The hydrangeas and rosebushes from the other two, are nowhere to be seen. Instead it’s all evergreens and ornamental grasses. It’s not something I would choose for myself, but it’s still gorgeous.

I wonder who it belongs to. I don’t know many of the men on Owen’s team, so I couldn’t even begin to narrow it down. But I’m sure as heck gonna ask because I’m desperate to see the inside.

I continue wandering, circling the street as it winds through what is actually a really striking piece of land. I’m not sure how they managed to find this place, but they scored a beautiful property. As I turn, following the loop that will take me back where I started, I suck in a sharp breath.

“Holy crap.” The full expanse of Nashville is spread out before me. I hadn’t really noticed we were on this significant of a rise until this moment. It’s not astronomical by any means, but it is high enough that it probably gives a beautiful view of the city at night.

I don’t know who owns the lot in front of me, but if they position their house correctly, every window across the back of the structure will look straight out over the skyline.

I’m a little jealous. Mature trees and manicured lawns are great and everything, but they are nothing compared to the potential this spot has.

I wonder if no one else has, if they’ll let me buy it. It’s not like Allie and I have a reason to go back to Memphis. Especially not if my brother’s going to be staying here—and it definitely seems like he’s going to be staying here. He and Becca both.

It would be nice to start fresh. Build a life that’s only mine. Have a home that is entirely of my own choosing, instead of one I had to try to retrofit into being acceptable.

My brain is running a mile a minute as I make my way back to the main building. I didn’t accomplish what I came out here to do, but that’s okay. I still worked through some of the questions piling up around me.

And I think I’ve decided it’s time for Allie and me to make the move to Nashville.

I’m filled with excitement and hope as I rush up the stairs to the second floor of the building we currently call home. Bursting into the room, I stop short when I see Owen isn’t there.

He wouldn’t have gone back to his old room, would he?

I’m surprisingly hurt by the possibility, and my stomach twists with dread as I go next-door and knock. He doesn’t answer, which makes me feel a little better. He must be somewhere else. Probably doing his job.

God. When did I get so fucking needy? I am a strong, independent woman. I have handled things by myself for years.

And then Owen shows up, and now I suddenly can’t think about a single thing without wanting to involve him. If for no other reason, then to get his opinions. Hear what he thinks.

And check him out a little in the process, because holy shit that man is fine.

It’s kind of a mind fuck.

Going back to my—hopefully our—room, I force myself to do what I should have been doing in the first place, which is handling shit. After switching on the treadmill, I fire up my computer and get to work. I may not be able to do what I would have normally spent my day accomplishing, but there is still plenty that needs my attention.

The first thing is figuring out what in the hell I’m going to do with my house. I was finally able to see some photographs of the inside, and they weren’t exaggerating when they said it was a mess. Drawers were emptied, cabinets were ransacked, and closets had been destroyed. My sofas and chairs were cut up and stuffing was strewn around like someone thought I was hiding shit in the cushions.

Thankfully, the bones of the place seem pretty intact. None of the windows were broken, and outside of a few holes in the drywall, there didn’t seem to be many major repairs to be done. The biggest undertaking will be cleaning everything up, and that’s probably something I can tackle most of on my own.

If I’m ever able to go back there.

The thought is depressing. Not because I specifically want to go back to that house, but because what is life going to be like if I can’t go anywhere without worrying about my safety? What will Allie’s life be like? She’s a teenager and wants to hang out with her friends and have a job and explore the world. Keeping her under lock and key would make her miserable.

And more than anything, I want my daughter to lead a happy life. One where she knows who she is and isn’t ashamed of it. One where she doesn’t feel obligated to make excuses for what she says or does. Where she doesn’t water herself down for the benefit of others.

Of course, that’s part of what got us in this situation in the first place, but still.

I spend the next hour looking through comparable properties, trying to figure out exactly how much I can get out of the house I put so much into. And I’m pleasantly surprised.

I still will never get my money out of it—my ex-husband put way too much effort into leveraging it for loans before leaving me to clean up his mess—but I’m not going to lose as much of my ass as I thought.

So, between the amount I recoup at the sale, and my own savings, Allie and I should be more than fine while I figure out what to do with my life next.