no time to waste.
She drove around the block and pulled into the Premier Gasoline station. The owner ran out and filled up her tank. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t get service in DC like she did here at the Royal Oak Garage. Not only did they give her full service on the self-serve pump, but they’d also opened the garage on the weekends or after hours when the need had arisen. And with this truck, that happened more than she liked to admit. Sometimes she wondered if the guys booby-trapped the old truck so she’d have to come in for service. They loved Grandpa’s truck as much as she did.
Small-town living definitely had perks. What they lacked in volume and glitz, they made up for in fellowship and convenience. Those two businesses would probably miss her and the money they made working on her truck, too.
With her gas tank filled, she puttered around the block and headed home.
As she got within sight of her house, she thought about how it was large enough for a family of five, and she loved having that two-car garage. It made it so easy to keep all her sporting equipment, crafts, and stored holiday decorations nice and neat. She’d never realized until she’d gone hunting for a place to live in Washington, D.C. how lucky she was to have all this space. The whole apartment she’d be renting there would fit in the living room and kitchen of this house.
But how much room did a single gal really need anyway?
There was no way she could move everything she owned, so she’d planned to store some of her furniture and collections until she decided if she’d eventually buy a house there. Unfortunately, the cost of living and price of homes in DC wasn’t even in the same playing field as Evergreen. Until she was more familiar with which areas were most desirable, she’d just have to rent, because the things Spencer was showing her were way out of her comfort zone—budget-wise and style-wise. Besides, she’d have the chance to meet more people living in an apartment community, and that wasn’t a bad thing.
She knew every single person who lived on this street. For that matter, she knew most everyone in Evergreen. It would be fun to make new friends in a new town.
She slowed to a stop, then put her arm on the back of the seat and looked over her shoulder to back into her driveway—a necessity, since Grandpa’s truck was so finicky. She never knew when she might need a jump-start. The darn thing was hit or miss, but she still loved that truck. It was her last connection to Grandpa, and they’d been so close. He was the whole reason she’d gone to North Carolina State to get her veterinarian degree. Following in his footsteps was all she’d ever wanted to do. He’d been a large animal vet, and she’d gone on calls with him from the time she was in first grade. She hoped one day she’d have someone want to walk in her shoes…or muck boots, as the case might be. Chuckling at that thought, she knew that wouldn’t be the case in DC. She’d probably be wearing snappy clogs or something.
She stepped out of the truck and slammed the door behind her.
The bitter wind took her breath away. Nonetheless, she shoved her hands deep in her pockets, taking a good, long look at her home.
She’d miss this place. It had taken three rounds of painting the exterior of the Cape Cod to finally get the right shade of blue last year, and now she was leaving it behind. She’d kept the holiday decorating to a minimum since she’d be gone for the week of Christmas, but she was glad she’d taken the time to swag the pine around the porch and railings. The decorations were cheerful. She wouldn’t even have a porch to decorate in her new apartment.
Oh well, less stuff to put away in January. With all Spencer seems to be planning, I’ll need the extra time.
She walked carefully up the snowy sidewalk, then took the steps to the porch and unlocked the front door. Inside, stacks of labeled boxes filled part of the dining room. She’d finish packing when she got back from DC.
She set her phone and purse down, then got her suitcase and tote bag from her bedroom and wheeled them into the dining room. She did a quick dash through the house, unplugging things and checking for forgotten items.
Her cell phone rang. She ran to grab it from where she’d set it down on the old sideboard she’d refinished. The Christmas cards she’d received reflected back from the beveled 1900’s mirror. She recognized the number on the caller ID immediately.
“Spencer,” she said. “Hey, I was just heading out the door.”
“Happy ‘moving to DC day’!”
“Hey, it’s not ‘moving to DC day’,” Allie reminded him. “It’s ‘coming to DC to sign the lease on my apartment day’.”
“I’m sorry, do they make a card for that?” Spencer teased.
“They make a card for everything.” She grabbed her new rolling suitcase, slid her carryon bag over the handle, and headed for the door as they talked.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be living in the same city together. Five blocks apart.”
“Well, the commute will definitely be a lot easier.” Allie lifted her suitcase and went down the front steps, then rolled it to the truck.
“So, I’ve got some incredible stuff lined up for us. Dinners, parties, oh, and on Christmas Day, you and I will be going to my boss’s swanky estate in the Hamptons,” Spencer said. “One of the partners even said that we can use his helicopter to get there!”
“A helicopter?” She swung her carry-on into the back of the truck. Who flies around in a helicopter? And was she seriously traveling all the way from Vermont to DC only to end up halfway back home in The Hamptons? “Really…” She pushed the handle down on the suitcase, then heaved it over the wooden rails into the truck bed, too.
“Better get used to it, okay? This is going to be a brand-new start for us, Allie.”
And a huge change for me. I don’t mind a little slow, quiet time for reflection now and then. “Right. And I’m excited about that.” Her mom’s concerns echoed in her mind. “I just want to make sure that we’re not getting ahead of ourselves.”
“Allie. I get it. I totally get it, okay? I just want to put the last couple of months behind us. I mean, this is Christmas. The time for new beginnings.”
“Absolutely. And you know, also… I love swanky parties.” She hoped he bought that. She’d never even been to one. She climbed into the driver’s seat of her significantly less-than-swanky ’56 Ford pickup truck and slammed the door. She’d been to Spencer’s office before. Now that was swanky. She pictured him sitting at his desk the day she’d met him there for lunch. The lunch he’d ended up not being able to go to. Instead, he’d ordered fancy French food for them to enjoy while he’d talked on a conference call. She’d have rather gotten a hot dog from the cart downstairs, but he’d been pretty pleased with himself for coming up with that contingency plan when the unscheduled meeting had popped up on his calendar.
He worked out of a corner office with heavy, dark wooden furniture and plush leather couches, nicer than a lot of people would have in their house. The view was amazing: the whole skyline of D.C., with the Washington Monument towering right in the center of it all. Spencer’s crocodile leather chair was probably what she remembered most. She’d never seen anything like it, and who knew crocodile leather could be so soft? He’d let her sit in it, and it had been so cushy she hadn’t wanted to get back up. She’d wished for crocodile boots ever since.
That visit should have given
