Among Wildflowers

Chapter One

It's not every day that you turn eighteen and graduate high school. Lucky for me, I got to do both on the same day. At this point in my life, I was supposed to have a path figured out. I was expected to have a college and career path picked out. I was suddenly an "adult" and needed to know what my next move was going to be.

That was how it was for my older sister, Nora. She went away to a college about four hours from home to become an elementary school teacher and was offered a job right after she graduated. Most of the people I knew were heading off to college, quickly getting started on their career path. College doesn't always work out for everyone, but it doesn't seem to change the fact that people still push it. But I'm not convinced that's what I want.

I look at myself in the mirror and apply more lipstick, grimacing at the pimple I notice on my forehead.  "Naomi", mom yells from downstairs. I finished applying my lipstick and put my hair into a ponytail and ran down the stairs. Our house is nothing fancy. It was built in the seventies. My parents called it a fixer-upper, though we've been here almost a year, and nothing has been fixed. "Yes?", I reply.

"I was wondering if you could help me load these boxes in the car and take them down to the clubhouse. They are for the neighborhood yard sale next weekend. "Sure", I say.

Times have been tough lately. My dad was laid off from his job two months ago and we've been living on mom's income only. She learned to make money however she could, and it has come to selling stuff she said we didn't need or was unnecessary. She said she wanted to become more minimalist, but I knew it was really because we needed the money more than we needed these things.

"Why are you getting rid of all your cookbooks?" I say as a shuffle through one of the boxes.

"Oh, I don't need those anymore. They are just taking up space on the shelf. Besides, have you seen me bake anything since we've lived here?"

"No, but you love baking. You used to bake all the time."

"When you and your sisters were younger, I would bake for us to have something to do together. Now that your sisters have moved out and you are almost eighteen, I just don't do it as much anymore."

"Oh", I say.

Mine and mom's phone dings. It's a group text message from Nora saying that she won't be coming over for dinner tonight. "Why not?", I text back. "I have a date tonight." I can tell my mom is trying to hide her disappointment. Since my sister moved out, we've always had dinner together on Sunday. It's the only time during the week we can usually all be together.

"Maybe this date will be the one." she says. "We'll see", I say, trying to sound optimistic. She lets out a small laugh and we finish loading the boxes in the trunk.

As we backed out of the driveway, I noticed that the for-sale sign across the street had been taken down. It's been for sale since we moved into this house almost a year ago. Like our house, it is also a fixer upper. All the houses in our neighborhood were built in the seventies. Most had been remodeled on the outside and inside. I loved that about our neighborhood because the houses have so much character. They weren't like the cookie cutter houses in the newer neighborhoods around us.

I loved the idea of moving into a fixer upper. Finally, my years of watching HGTV would pay off. Except now we don't have the money to fix anything. Mom says we just need to be patient and that soon dad will find a new job and we will be able to do the things we want to do. She is always so optimistic.

When we returned to our house thirty minutes later, we noticed a moving truck in the driveway across the street. We stood outside for several minutes waiting to see if we saw anyone, but we didn't so mom went inside while I stayed outside a little longer. I tried to look busy while I waited to see if anyone would come out. I heard a loud crashing sound that sounded like it was coming out of the garage. I wonder if someone is hurt, but I don't hear or see anyone. I debate in my head whether I should walk over there or not. I decided that I should.

As I approach the garage, I yell out to see if anyone is there. No answer. I keep walking until now I am standing in the garage. I see a man on a ladder stacking boxes onto shelves that were built along the back wall. Immediately, I notice his tan, muscular arms as he lifts another box. I say hello again, but then notice he is wearing headphones and probably doesn't hear me. He must have caught a glimpse of me because it appears that I've startled him. He takes his headphones off.
"Hey, can I help you?", he says. His eyes are a deep blue, the color of the ocean and he looks to be in his early thirties. I can tell he's confused about who I am and why I am standing in his garage.

"I'm Naomi. I live across the street. I heard a loud crash and wanted to see if you needed any help."

"I'm fine and I don't need any help." I can tell that he is bothered by me being here.

"Ok, sorry if I intruded. Like I said, my parents and I live right across the street if you need anything." For a second, he just stares at me, looking at me up and down. "Thanks.", he says and returns to what he was doing. I turn around and quickly walk back to my house across the street.

When I walk inside my mom asks if I met anyone. "Yeah, I saw a guy in the garage and walked over to introduce myself. He didn't seem very friendly."

"Oh, well that's unfortunate. Maybe he's just having a bad day. Moving can be stressful." There she goes again, always optimistic.

"Yeah, maybe", I say.