Seasons of Change

By Kimi Flores

Alone and suddenly jobless, I was at a crossroads for the first time in my life. Of course, I handled it the way any rational person would—I bought a home in the small town where I'd spent most of my childhood summers.

 

When my new neighbor stepped off his front porch to welcome me, I knew I was in trouble. With his hand stretched in greeting, he had the nerve to imply that I was in over my head. Or, that could be how I interpreted his meaning, seeing as I had the same thoughts since I signed the mortgage paperwork.

 

A few mishaps and several cozy nights in front of a roaring fire later, he covertly chiseled away my stubborn defenses. After that, I started considering dreams I hadn't thought about in years.

 

Maybe living next door to the handsome divorcee won't be so bad after all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kimi Flores
• Release date: Nov 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215836491

Book preview

Alone and suddenly jobless, I was at a crossroads for the first time in my life. I handled it the way any rational person would—bought a home in the small town I’d spent most of my childhood summers in.

When my new neighbor stepped off his front porch to welcome me, I knew I was in trouble.  With his hand stretched in greeting, he had the nerve to imply that I was in over my head. Or, maybe that’s how I interpreted his meaning seeing as I had the same thoughts since the moment I signed the mortgage paperwork.

A few mishaps later and several cozy nights in front of a roaring fire, he covertly chiseled away my stubborn defenses. I started considering dreams I hadn’t thought about in years

Maybe living next door to the handsome divorcee wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter One

The Next Venture

Tess

A few scattered raindrops sprinkled my windshield as I pulled to the curb. The closer I got, apprehension gnawed at me, and I questioned myself for the hundredth time since I’d left my townhouse yesterday. I counted backward to calm my nerves as I focused on the tops of the mature oak trees that lined the street. A gentle wind blew, causing their leaves to rustle.

Resolute in my decision, I switched off my car’s engine and turned my focus toward my new home when a sense of calm came over me. The two-story craftsman bungalow looked just as I’d remembered, except the once-faded exterior seemed to have recently received a new coat of light and dark grey paint.

I’d bought this home on a whim, which was why doubt had been at the forefront of my mind. It was out of character for me to do something so impulsive, but I’d lost myself years ago and needed something to reconnect to. The sad part was that I hadn’t even realized how misguided I’d been until the rug was ripped from under me. By then, it was too late.

Several of my former co-worker friends voiced their concerns, calling this purchase my midlife crisis. It was easy for them to judge my actions when they hadn’t spent their entire adult lives pushing everything and everyone aside to further their careers as I’d done.

Unlike me, those same friends had spouses to rely on for moral support after our entire department had been dismantled and we had been sent packing. I’d been so distraught when I learned that my dedication to the firm I’d worked for hadn’t been worth a darn. All the weekends, holidays, and late nights had been for nothing. There wasn't a thing I could’ve done to avoid being kicked to the curb. So much for the loyalty I thought the company had for me. It was a wake-up call when I discovered how replaceable I was.

God, I didn’t even have friends outside of work to confide in who would understand my feeling of being dropped into the abyss. Thankfully, I still had my sister, but she was busy caring for her small children and husband.

I glanced down at my phone and opened the moving company's app to see how far away the truck was. Thankfully, I still had enough time to get inside, open the windows, and ensure the floor plan I envisioned would still work.

With a deep sigh, I grabbed my purse and got out of the car. A chilly breeze pricked my skin through the tiny gaps in my sweater, causing me to quicken my steps. Dark clouds covered the sky, threatening to rain, but as usual, I’d planned ahead and had all my furniture wrapped in plastic before any of it was loaded into the truck.

Kicking several pinecones aside, I made a beeline up the walkway and onto the porch. As I stood there, I was struck with nostalgia. Minus the porch swing that had always been there, it was exactly as I remembered.

I reached up on my tiptoes and ran my fingers over the metal numbers that displayed my new address and suddenly everything felt so surreal.

A mixture of doubt and excitement filled my belly simultaneously, making me slightly queasy. I was moving into a home that held so many childhood memories at a time when I should’ve been clutching onto every dollar in my savings account.

With a hand on my uneasy stomach, I reminded myself that most of my investment in this house had come from the equity I’d made on my townhome. But still, I was currently unemployed and even with my healthy severance pay, I had no business spending so much money.

Letting out a calming breath, I pushed those thoughts aside for the moment, telling myself everything would work out.

The door creaked when I turned the unlocked handle and pushed it open. My real estate agents, Ben and Lauren Stevens, told me they’d leave it open for me today.

The second I stepped into the living room, the distinct lemony scent of Murphy’s Oil soap filled my lungs. As I took in the artisan interior, I was flooded with even more memories. My sister and I had some of the best times in this home. From when we were little girls until we were teens, our parents rented this house from the end of June to the beginning of August. We’d look forward to returning, hanging out in town with our friends and renting boats and jet skis out on the lake with our parents. Life had been much simpler as a teenager when the only agenda was to hang out with our friends all day and dream about our futures at night.

I wrapped my arms around myself and took a moment to soak it all in as I stared at the monstrous brick fireplace surrounded by built-in shelves and cabinets. Since we’d only visited when the temperature outside was blazing hot, we’d never had a chance to use it, but I’d always wanted to experience a chilly night in front of a roaring fire. I had every intention of lighting that bad boy and curling up with a good book the first chance I had.

I made my way to the windows and opened each to let in the fresh air. As I inhaled the crisp breeze, my mind was filled with thoughts of when times had been easy and I’d thought I understood what I wanted. I swiped my fingers across the window ledge, expecting to find a line of dust, and was surprised when nothing was left behind, just the way my mom used to leave it.

Looking at the shiny wood floors, I realized someone had scrubbed the place since I’d done the initial walk-through and the refreshing smell in the air made more sense. I could take that off my long to-do list if the other rooms were this clean.

With the front door and windows open, I passed the staircase and wandered into the kitchen, opening the windows and back door. A large meat, cheese, cracker and wine basket sat on the island, along with a ‘Welcome Home’ note from my realtors. I tapped each item and snickered aloud, It looks like I can mark dinner off the to-do list, too. Next to the basket laid a set of keys attached to a keyring that read: Home Sweet Home.

My home. Not our family summer house, but the place that would see me through my new ventures. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine at the revelation.

Placing my palm on the olive-green tiled countertop, I pictured Mom on the other side, preparing her potato salad, coleslaw, and homemade lemonade, as my father barbecued in the backyard.

When I’d first decided to buy this home a month ago, I knew coming back would stir up some memories, but I was surprised at how comforting they were.

Letting it finally sink in that this house was mine lifted my spirits and sparked my curiosity to wonder what else could be out there for me.

A notification pinged on my cell, letting me know the moving truck was getting closer, so I made my way back outside.

Zooming to my car, I grabbed a heavier sweater from the backseat, then stood on the sidewalk, peeking down the street for the truck. From the corner of my eye, I saw a guy stepping off the front porch next door. I tried not to stare, but I knew I’d feel awkward if he came toward me. I was out of practice making small talk, especially with a good-looking guy like him. My previous neighbors and I never interacted.

It had also been a while since I’d had a conversation with random guys outside of work, let alone a handsome one. By the friendly look on his face as he approached, he was noticeably eager to meet his new neighbor. I just hoped his optimistic attitude would rub off on me and push aside my unexpected insecurity.

Sticking his hand out in greeting, he said, Hi, I’m Elliott. I assume you're my new neighbor? His bright blue eyes lit with expectancy as he waited for my response.

Rattled first by his striking appearance, then his enthusiasm, I wasn’t prepared for the fluttering in my belly after hearing his deep voice. I took a moment to appreciate the slight dip in his chin that was right at my eye level. While I gathered my thoughts, my eyes traced the scruff along his jawline and full lips.

Of course I had to move next to an attractive guy who seemed to be in his late thirties, early forties, just like me and checked every box on my list of features I find attractive.

Until recently, my appearance had been professional and classy.  My work clothes were all I’d splurge on. Once unemployed, I fell into a comfier, practical style, but after meeting Elliott, I had a feeling I’d