This thought is what leads him to a new plan, rapidly forming it in his head as he heads back down the winding staircase. It would mean making another bold move, but he wasn’t going to consider it too much, because if he did then he might talk himself out of it, and he didn’t want to do that, because this plan could make a real difference, and so armed with that thought and his own resolve, he leaves his new house and walks the mile into the town square.
The town itself is small and has a very small population; most of the people live in the center on the town, where he is now standing. Only a few of the town’s residents had properties with a lot of land like his house, which was in need of the grounds being restored as they were overgrown. The town was pretty, the streets were paved with cobblestones and the stores were all one offs, each street was lined with trees and in the center of the town there was a large square of grass. The whole place felt sleepy and idyllic, almost like he’d stepped back into the past to a time and place where everything was simpler, the streets weren’t noisy or crowded with cars, there were no street vendors yelling to get your attention, there weren’t any stressed commuters trying to get to work, it was just simple and relaxed, everyone smiled and said hello when they passed by, and he had to admit that it was more than a pleasant change after the chaos of New York. He was finding that the more time he spent here; the easier it became to picture fitting into life here.
After an hour of wandering around the town, getting a feel for the place, which turned out to be bigger than he’d first thought – he’d been surprised to come across some apartment blocks, nothing like the high rise apartments of New York, but some red stone buildings which had been about five or six floors of apartments – he walked around the library for a while, registering for an account with them, and then he’d taken a look at the grand total of three places to eat; a local bar which served a menu of burgers and bar snacks, a diner that was recommended to him by the librarian he’d met, and then a place called the Sederwood café, which he had stopped at and had lunch in, he was impressed by the small café.
Of course he hadn’t just come to the town to take in its sights, he was on a mission, and now he had spotted the place he’d been looking for, and was determined to get things in motion, not only because the house was too big for him alone, but also because going into this particular building, would hopefully get him the thing he’d promised his father he would find; a job.
The door to the medical practice was a double door made from pine; both of the doors were propped open wide, wedged in place not by a door stopper, but by a stack of medical books. Oliver smiles and suppresses a chuckle, going inside and right up to the reception desk, smiling politely at the woman who is typing something into the computer, with her glossy red nails.
‘Can I help?’ She looks up with a curious gaze, and he can already tell that this town may be bigger than he’d first thought, but it was most definitely still a small town, he could gather that much from the appraising look she was giving him, clearly she knew he was from out of town.
‘Yeah hi, I’m Oliver.’ He holds out his hand and she shakes it more out of politeness than friendliness, because she’s wondering what he could want, it’s been a busy day so far, and if he wants to get in and see the doctor then he wouldn’t be able to, she’ll have to be firm about that, because she’s already turned away two locals today, and she hates having to turn away locals, so there was no way she’d let a tourist in ahead of them, even if there was a gap in appointments. Cyndi Danner has always been of the mind that neighbors came first, and she wasn’t a fan of people from out of town, which is why Oliver’s next words had such an effect on her, when he simply added, ‘I just moved here.’
‘Ah,’ her bright green eyes light up at this little piece of news he’d offered to her, after sizing up the situation in his head, she sits up a little straighter in her wooden backed chair, and brushes back her mass of auburn curls, ‘you must be the one who bought up the old Keller place.’
‘If the Keller place is the wooden house about a mile from here, then yes that’s me.’ He nods cheerfully.
‘Well then you’re one of us now, I’m Cyndi. What is it I can do for you?’ This time her offer of help is delivered with more sincerity, he’s getting the idea of how things work around here, and the sooner he throws himself into community life, the better.
‘I’m actually looking for a job, as a doctor, I worked in a private hospital in New York, but now I’m here and I haven’t got a job set up, I’ve been told the hospital is five miles from here, but I honestly would rather work somewhere smaller, get a change of pace.’ He smiles, ‘So what I was hoping was to get a position here, so I’ve come over to enquire if there is anything going.’
‘Well,’ she laughs cheerfully, ‘your timing couldn’t be better, our Dr Jenkins is retiring next week and we’ve had a few applicants, but none of them are desirable, I think that some young blood about the place is just what this place needs, not that I get any say in the matter, but I know more than anyone, I’ve been working here near on twenty two years now, anyway,’ she looks around her mildly chaotic desk, pushing aside brightly colored pieces of note paper, sticky notes and pens, finally pulling out a folder, ‘ah there it is, this is the information pack about the job, and an application form as well.’
‘Thank you.’ He takes the offered folder feeling more than a little shocked, he’d not been expecting this to be so easy, of course he had to get the job first, but the simple fact that there was a position open, was more than he’d hoped for.
‘Can I help you with anything else?’ Cyndi asks pressing her bright pink lips together and looking at him over the top of her thick rimmed glasses.
‘There was one thing, I noticed that there’s a soup kitchen in town, I presume it caters for the homeless in the area.’
‘It does, oh it breaks my heart to see them sleeping out in all weathers, or people suffering in homes where they aren’t safe, just because they’ve got no place else to go.’ Her eyes drop to the desk, ‘It’s shocking!’
‘Well I’m actually intending to do something about that, as much as I can. You see I have the big house now, and so I intend on giving some of them a home, do you think that would be well received?’
‘Oh yes, the town do try and help but there’s only so much we can manage, the resources just aren’t there.’
‘I see, well I’ll definitely have to put my plans in motion then,’ he replies then lifts up the information pack and thanks her, ‘I’ll bring this back later today, and maybe I could discuss my intentions for the house in a little more detail, perhaps with the doctor.’
‘That sounds just fine, but it’s really Melissa Jenkins you should talk to, the doctor who’s retiring and leaving Dr Matthews to run this place alone, unless you’re successful,’ she smiles, ‘it’s his daughter Melissa who runs the soup kitchen for the homeless, she’ll be more than willing to hear you out.’ Cyndi grabs a piece of bright pink notepaper, and writes out a note to Melissa, ‘give her this so she knows I sent you.’
‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’ Oliver nods and heads out the door, in search of Melissa Jenkins, with his new dream of opening his house to the homeless, seeming less like a spur of the moment dream, and more like an easily achievable plan.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Letter 16
This, this right here that I’m writing, this is the last letter I’m going to write to you, it’s a big step, but it’s one that I feel I need to make. It’s June now and I haven’t written anything since March, nothing since that last rambling, slightly depressive letter in which I went on about how much love was pulling me apart. I’ve wanted to write but I just couldn’t make myself put pen to paper, because each time I tried it made me too sad, knowing that you’d never read the words, knowing that you’d never be able to respond to them. So now I have come to a decision, I need to end things properly, because I can’t leave things unfinished, and that last letter isn’t how I want
things to end, and because you deserve more than what I’ve given you, so here is the big decision. I have decided to take the plunge, do something that I’ve been wanting to do for a while, even though it scares me to do it, I think you deserve it, so – I’m going to mail you all the letters I’ve written since leaving New York. Now I know this will be less of a shocking revelation to you, because you would have received the letters, and read all of the letters leading up to this one, so you’ve probably figured out that I decided to mail them.
Anyway, the reason I decided to mail these is because I want you to know that I’m ok, and even though I sound like a heartbroken wreck in a lot of these letters, I am doing ok. I’m coming round to the idea that we needed this space, this time apart to really figure things out. Ok what I mean by that is that I needed time to figure things out, I needed to get stronger and become less reliant on you, and I’m getting there. So that’s why I’m mailing these, and also why I’m not going to give you my address, and I’m going to ask that you please don’t try and contact me. It’s not because I don’t want to see you or hear from you, I do, you have no idea how much I want to get back in contact with you, but – and this might not make sense to you, but I want to see if I can pull myself back together, without you.
I talked this over with Megan and Kylie, because they are the only ones out of my expanding group of friends, who know that I still write these letters.
Megan says she can always tell when I’ve written one, because I become even more withdrawn, and usually have tears streaming down my face. Kylie, who is getting stronger and bolder by the day, bluntly told me I have to snap out of it, clearly her view that this suffering is romantic, wore off a while back, I can’t say I blame her, I’ve been miserable. So now she just tells me that it isn’t healthy to act like this, especially over a guy who I never actually dated. She added that I need to focus on good things, you’re still alive so it’s not like I lost you completely, you’re moving on and living a good life, I saved you from losing your job, and that even though things ended badly between us, at least we had that summer together, some people don’t even get that. So they both agreed that it’s good I’m sending you the letters, they said it’ll be good closure.
I’ve been focusing a lot more on the positives recently, and I think it’s the only thing stopping me driving across the country to New York, and turning up at the hospital to see you. I know that it wouldn’t do any good, because we’re never going to be able to slip back into what we had, that’s over and I’m starting to be ok with that. I’m comforted by the thought that you’ll have moved on, and scared by the thought that you may never have actually loved me in the first place, because how do I really know if you did, I always thought that you felt the same as I did, and I knew that you cared about me a great deal, we spoke often about being careful because we were getting too close, and sometimes I’d catch you watching me and it seemed like, to me at least, that you were looking at me with such deep love, and yet I never heard the words from you, I never saw them written anywhere, unless you’re counting that game of scrabble, when you made those words, Eye, Love You, was that a hint? I like to think it was, I like to think you were trying to tell me that you loved me, express in the tiles what you weren’t allowed to admit out loud. I guess I wonder if it did mean something, because you had other words in between each of them, and so was it just waiting to get the right letters? Or are you just really bad at scrabble? I don’t know, perhaps you were giving me a message with those little tiles, I hope you were.
I guess I should write a little bit about what my life is like now, because a lot has changed since the last letter I wrote. I’m allowed to drive now and I have a new car, a blue vintage car that I can’t remember the make of, but I adore it. I’m even allowed to take it out on my own, because I’ve been stable for long enough now, that my parents and my therapist agreed I can go out alone, so I’ll go out for long drives to clear my head, I’ll go shopping on my own or grab some dinner, mostly I just love that I’ve got some freedom back. I’m even going away next week, me and the girls (including Sophie who has joined out little group of friends), are going to Hawaii for two weeks, my parents are worried about the trip but know they can trust me. I’m not sure if them allowing me to go is actually because they trust me, or because they know that even if I do slip up, Kylie, Megan and Sophie will stop me from falling too far backwards, either way they agreed and that’s what counts.
It’s a celebration trip, because as of today I am officially (finally) a high school graduate, are you proud? I wish I could watch you read this letter, like I used to when I was in the hospital, waiting to see what your reactions were, but I know I can’t so I have to stop dwelling on it. I do wish I could know if you are proud of me though.
Megan is reading this over my shoulder at the moment, even though I keep telling her that it’s private and she’s being rude. She’s telling me not to be so stupid, that of course you’d be proud of me, because from what she’s heard about you, which she claims is a lot because I never stop talking about you, she can tell that you’re the kind of guy who would be proud of me for graduating, and I know that she’s right about you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her continue reading this…
Ok, Megan’s gone out to buy some ice cream, so I have some privacy to write this now. I’ve been accepted into the local college, but I also put in an application to one of the best colleges on the east coast for writing courses, in fact it’s an arts college, dedicated to English, music, art and all that stuff that I adore. It’s a relatively small college near Philadelphia, called Nicholls College; it was founded by a man named John Nicholls, who dedicated the school to helping young writers and creative people. I’ve decided to major in creative writing, and somehow I actually got accepted into this amazing school, which is more than a surprised to me. I haven’t told my parents or my friends yet, which is one of the reasons I wanted Megan to stop reading this letter over my shoulder, and also why I am grateful that she had the sudden need for ice cream. I know what I probably should do, even though going to a school dedicated to writers would be amazing, I’ve only been out of hospital for a few months, and I’ve only been truly strong for even less time; but how can I turn down such an amazing opportunity? I honestly don’t know what I’ll end up doing, but either way I think I’m going to have to talk to my parents about it.
Kylie’s parents are going to trust her to go to California for college in September, so perhaps my parents might trust me to go back east for school, especially since it’s a school that has produced so many good writers, in fact it’s already being called the best school for aspiring novelists in the world. I don’t know if I can turn that down, would it be foolish to turn it down? I don’t know but I’m going to take my time thinking about it, I won’t make a rash decision that I’ll only end up regretting later, I think that I need to think this through a lot.
I’m working again only not at the grocery store, because now that I am allowed more freedom I had more choices, so I am now working in a coffee shop, the work is a little boring at times, but the employees are all friendly and the customers are nice as well, we have the regulars that come in every day, so we get to know quite a few people. I’m enjoying it. I think more than anything I enjoy being busy, I thought a while ago that I was missing running, I wrote about it in a letter to you, and although I do miss running, I think it’s more to do with missing the feeling of being tired, and not just tired because while I was ill I was tired all the time, but I miss feeling tired in a good way, not because I’m too weak to have energy, but because I’ve actually done something with my day. I like working a lot, and I’ve started saving because once I finish college, I want to be able to rent a decent place where I can write, probably an apartment somewhere that has a writing corner. I’m imagining a little apartment in an old building, I picture it being an open plan kitchen/lounge/bedroom, with bookcases and stacks of books everywhere, a desk against the wall where I can wri
te for hours, on my laptop and not the typewriter my dad bought me, although I love my typewriter, and I do use it often for short stories and for these letters. I can picture windows with wrought iron frames, set into red brick walls, with hardwood floors that run through the whole apartment. There would be a bed tucked away in one corner behind a folding screen, the bed would be covered in an array of cushions of different styles and colors, in a very bohemian style, and the desk would be the other side of the room from the bed, it would be a large old fashioned wood desk, covered in papers and books. I can picture it all so clearly in my head, that when it comes to actually finding an apartment, nothing will be quite right.
On another note, now that I’m done rambling on about my future apartment, I wanted to say that I’m planning on enjoying this summer. It’s still strange that I need to put in a conscious effort in to be happy, but I do and I’ve resigned myself to that at the moment. I’ve got a lot to look forward to, I’m going away with my friends, and I’m going to France with my parents as well, and then when I am here I’ve got my job to keep me busy. So I’m going to do my very best to enjoy every moment of this summer, because even though last summer was amazing with you, and I would never take any of it back; I was still in a hospital with very little freedom, we only left the hospital grounds that one time, and it didn’t go well because of my anxiety, which is gone now, it took a while but things are turning around for me now. I’m feeling like my old self, the version of me before I met Kim and she started the dominoes falling, and it feels so good to be back to this point, it’s something I can never repay you for, and it’s a gift that I’ll treasure for the rest of my life, but now it’s time I let you go, however hard that is for me to admit, and I know it’ll be hard for me to actually follow through, but it is time for me to move on with my life, and I think I can now, because of you I’m stronger and more mature, I’m able to cope with things on my own, so now I need to try. It’s the only way I might stand a chance of going east for college, because when I think of you I feel weak, even though it was you who made me strong. I hope you understand why I need to do this on my own, if I started up contact with you, it would be too easy to slip back into those roles, you taking care of me, and me relying on you for everything. I hope you don’t think I’m crazy; it’s just something I need to prove to myself.
How I Got Here Page 20