One location stood out to me every time I drove through town. Nestled between a thrift boutique and hardware store, a small, white storefront with bright yellow trim and two large windows. An equally bright yellow double door provided entry. An ivy wreath adorned each door. It was perfect, and though it was faster than I’d meant to move, I made a mental note to mention it to Angela when we met her at the house. I wanted that store, and even though I had about a month of work to get the house ready first, I couldn’t bear for anyone else to snatch up the property. I could already imagine my fresh vegetables, homemade jams and fresh-baked goods lining the shelves. And eggs. I planned to have many chickens, so was sure I’d have a good egg supply to sell to my customers.
The charming downtown was left behind us as we turned right just outside of town. Only a few minutes away, Archie pulled the vehicle onto the paved lane of our new home. I took a deep breath, the same thing I’d done the first time we toured the small farm. I’d always imagined myself living in the country, among cornfields and lonely country roads. The space and the quiet of the environment appealed to me in so many ways. Nobody too close to bother us. Only Archie and me, really all I needed in my life. This beauty was the home of my dreams. Neatly clipped grass stretched out on either side of the quarter-mile lane. Two tall oak trees struck a stately presence on each side of the lane. Dark mulch encircled the trunks, bright red geraniums sprang from the mounds. As we neared the house, I absorbed its beauty again. A two-story classic, gothic-style white farmhouse. Large, wraparound porch, freshly painted, Victorian-style turret to the rear right of the house. White gingerbread trim throughout and, my personal favorite, at the highest peak of the house, in the attic, triple stained-glass windows. The house was well maintained, but some updates were needed, although nothing that would have deterred us from making an offer on it though. I was in love the moment I saw the property. Almost as if it was waiting for me. I could still hear its whisper to me.
The lane curved to the left and ended at a detached three-car garage, also white and gingerbread trimmed. Two large terracotta planters sat on either side of the garage, bursting with dark purple petunias and white impatiens. A small, gray sedan sat parked next to the flowerpot on the left.
“That’s not Angela’s car,” Archie remarked, putting the SUV into park.
“No,” I replied. “I wonder who it is.”
As I spoke, a short, balding man emerged from the house, our house. He wore a rumpled white dress shirt, dress pants, and a loosened polka dot tie. He appeared anxious.
“You must be the Greencastles.” He gave us a smile. “I’m Ned from Poplin Realty. I’m here to give you your extra set of keys and see if you have any questions.”
“Oh, hi, Ned.” Archie opened the car door and stepped onto the driveway. He shook the man’s outstretched hand.
I waved. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m confused,” Archie said, “I thought Angela was meeting us today?”
Ned fumbled with his already loose tie. His face reddened and he sighed. He seemed on the verge of tears. “She would have been here, but Angela was murdered two days ago.”
TWO2023
Aimee
“Murdered!” I gasped, moving closer to Archie. He put his arm around me. “How?”
Ned sighed, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “She was shot, um, at a house she was showing, right outside of town.”
“Wow, that’s crazy,” said Archie; surprise colored his voice and his eyes widened. “Any leads on who did it?”
“No, the police have tried tracing the phone call of the person requesting the showing, but the call came from an untraceable phone, so no luck. The name in her calendar was just Mrs. Smith.”
“This is such sad news,” I said sympathetically. “Why would someone want to kill Angela?”
Ned shrugged. “I can’t imagine. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. And she was a great realtor. She sold most of the homes in this area. I’m more like her helper, or was, I guess.”
I nodded, remembering seeing Angela just three weeks before when Archie and I had our final walk-through in the house. She was an attractive woman with strawberry blond hair cut in a sleek bob who dressed more upscale than the rural farm town she represented. She was always friendly and ready to answer any question we had about the property. A very sad story, indeed. I would have liked to have gotten to know her better. For a second I wondered about the safety of our new town, but it sounded like someone had targeted her specifically, from what Ned mentioned about the house showing.
“Well.” Ned shrugged again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s too upsetting. And it’s such an exciting day for you both.”
“Oh, of course,” I said. “We understand. Our deepest condolences. Angela was a lovely person. Thank you for coming out to give us the keys.”
We had settled on the house a few weeks earlier, but wanted to have some remodeling work completed before moving in. Archie and I would come out periodically to check on the ongoing work in the house, but sometimes we couldn’t make it during the times the crew worked. Angela kept the extra keys to allow the remodeling crew and the furniture delivery people into our house. I appreciated her offering to do this for us. She really was an excellent real estate agent.
“Certainly, if you have any questions, please call me.” Ned handed me his business card.
“Thank you, Ned,” Archie said.
We waved goodbye as he drove his car down the lane.
We turned to face the farmhouse. Our house. It’s all we’d talked about for the last few months and now, finally, it was a reality. A dream come true, I almost wanted to pinch myself to be sure it was really happening. Our first real home as a married couple. We stayed at Aunt Lou’s house until it was sold, but this was our home, not someone else’s we occupied.
“So,” Archie said, taking my hand, “let’s go into our new house.”
“Hey, you’re forgetting something,” I reminded him with a grin.
Archie laughed and picked me up effortlessly in his arms. He walked the three steps up to the porch, flung open the white screen door, and inserted the key into the door. Gripping tightly, he carried me over the threshold and placed me on the dark walnut hardwood floor in the entryway. “Welcome home, Mrs. Greencastle,” he whispered into my ear.
I twirled around, enjoying the freshly painted walls in a creamy, pale yellow and the bouquet of fresh flowers, sent from the realtor’s office, that sat on the antique side table by the cushioned bench.
I was so happy our furniture had arrived before us. I had left specific instructions as to where I wanted everything placed in the house, and hoped all the pieces had been put into those designated spots. We didn’t have a lot of furniture at this point; the new pieces I’d ordered online would arrive this week. I could not wait to decorate our new space.
“Come on, let’s explore.” I grabbed Archie’s hand, and we walked back through the hall into the kitchen. My new kitchen cabinets, in mint green, were installed along with new appliances, a double oven for all my culinary experiments, dishwasher, retro bottom freezer refrigerator, also in mint green. White subway-style backsplash, white farmhouse sink, and a large butcher block kitchen island. I needed to get my small kitchen table for the breakfast nook and the room would be complete. And maybe a cushioned bench by the window.
“Wow, this looks great,” Archie commented. He dropped my hand and opened the cabinets and the refrigerator. A fruit basket and six bottled waters were inside, again compliments of the realtor agency. So thoughtful.
“I think we have to go grocery shopping though,” he remarked. His warm brown eyes shined. “Really, Aimee, this looks great. That contractor you hired knew what he was doing.” Archie hadn’t been to the property for over a week, and this was his first time seeing the kitchen renovation. I’d been here several times over the past week overseeing everything.
“Yes, he did,” I agreed, running my hand over the island. I arranged everything. I had specifics in mind, and it was easier for me to make the contacts. If I really cared about something, I wanted it exactly to my specifications. Archie didn’t seem to mind. He rather liked it when I took charge of things.
We checked out the dining room, still empty of furniture at this point, as well as the living room, but that furniture would arrive soon, along with a TV, mostly for Archie—I don’t watch much TV, but it was nice to have for the rare occasion.
“Let’s go up to the bedroom.” I raised my eyebrows. “See if they set up our bed correctly.” I started up the stairs.
Archie came up behind me, squeezing my bottom. “Oh, I hope so, or we’ll be christening the floor.”
“It won’t be the first time.” I laughed as he chased me up the stairs.
THREE2023
Aimee
I uncapped a water bottle and took a long drink, admiring our new kitchen. While I wanted to preserve—and appreciated—the elegant beauty of the 1920s Victorian farmhouse, I needed a modern kitchen, while giving a nod to an old-fashioned style. The old kitchen, a remodel from the late seventies or early eighties, had cried out for an upgrade, not my style in any way. Everything else in the house only required a fresh coat of paint and refinishing the hardwood floors, to bring them back to a beautiful luster.
Archie went to get groceries alone. I wanted some time to soak in our house, feel its heart and warmth, the connection I experienced the first time Angela unlocked the front door for us. I knew this was my house, our house, straightaway. I’m intuitive to such feelings, vibrations, if you will. I’d been manifesting this house, this life, for years now, and finally, I received what I’d been visualizing for so long. We belonged here.
I walked across the kitchen and opened the back door onto a large concrete patio with a kidney-shaped pool, installed by the previous owner. The pool, covered in black winter tarp, was one of the first projects Archie and I would work on. In a week or two I hoped to be lying on a lounge chair, sipping a cold drink before taking a dip, hopefully a skinny dip, with Archie. The open farmland stretched out seemingly endless around the backyard. Beyond the white vinyl fence surrounding the pool and patio area was a sizable yard. In the back of the yard there was a large garden space, about half an acre, and I planned to expand its size; we had the space. After the garden the expansive sky spread out majestically and allowed a stunning view of the Blue Mountain range in the distance. Fields, planted with corn, small green stalks at this stage, surrounded the house, open fields all one could see. Our land. I felt like a pioneer in a sense. Land of the Greencastles.
I took a deep breath of fresh air, allowing it to fill my body with its purity. This place lived in my dreams for so long. A manifest I focused on and, finally, felt the fruits of that focus. Meditation and manifestation continued to be cornerstones in my daily journey, concepts I learned so long ago, in what seemed then like another lifetime. I took another deep breath and embraced the peace surrounding me.
All the plans I held for this place ran through my mind. Creating a new life with Archie was all I’d wanted since the day he walked into my life. He was the love of my life. Whatever I thought was love in the past certainly inferior to my experience with Archie. Funny how love finds you when you’re not looking for it. Almost everything that’s meant for you finds you when the time is right. Why do we spend so much time chasing things when the universe knows what we need? Mother Earth will provide for her children. All in good time.
Archie placed the last of the groceries into the refrigerator, a gallon of milk and half gallon of orange juice, and turned his attention to me, already eating the grilled chicken salad he brought me for lunch, at the kitchen island.
“Well, that’s done.” He grabbed his salad, took off the lid, and started eating.
“This salad is really good,” I remarked. “You got it in town?”
