by Rick Soper
The City was where her friends lived, where she went to college, and where she’d founded Progressive Impact Group Solutions. San Francisco was not only the base of the environmental movement in the state of California, but it was the center of her existence.
Stacy had mentioned more than once that Cindy had a form of agoraphobia. In most cases, Stacy had explained, agoraphobia was a paralyzing fear of going outside of a home or a perceived “safe place.” For Cindy, that safe place was the entirety of San Francisco, and her anxiety started at its borders. Cindy had argued that she just hadn’t needed to leave, so Stacy’s diagnosis was just speculation.
She was going to have to put that speculative diagnosis to the test. Cindy stared at the picture on the wall, which had been in her studio for over three years. She’d thought it was stunningly beautiful the day they put it in, and she still did. Maybe that was the transition she needed. Maybe seeing the picture for three years was enough to make her comfortable in going there.
Cindy stepped up to the studio door, pulled it open. “Bailey,” she yelled.
A moment later, Bailey tentatively stepped into the studio and said, “Yeah, boss?”
Cindy nodded at the picture on the wall. “Where is that?”
“Uh…” Bailey turned red and looked away.
“Bailey?”
Bailey grimaced. “It’s up in Washington…”
“You mean all this time I’m talking about California, I have Washington behind me?”
“You asked me to find the greenest picture I could find…”
“I can’t—” Cindy turned away from Bailey and gave her a fluttering wave of her hand to make her go away.
She closed her eyes, wondering how the day could get any worse. She’d been sitting in front of that picture for three years. If anyone called her on it, she’d be…
“Wait,” she said as she raised a finger. “That’s the goal.”
The wall was what California could be if its water wasn’t being used up and abused by all the people living in the state. Washington was the perfect example of what good water policy could accomplish. It didn’t make sense to show a damaged California, but it made perfect sense to show Washington as the possible end result of what Green legislation could accomplish.
“Going there could be the answer.”
Excited, she turned and walked out of the studio, through the reception area and into her office. She focused on the trail. Plane tickets, rental cars, and hotels were a good start, but if she really wanted to make waves, actually buying a property would make one hell of statement.
Cindy moved her fingers quickly across the trackpad of her Apple computer, as she entered her password, and fired up Zillow in Safari. Notification after notification flipped across the upper right hand corner of the screen as messages, tweets, and Facebook posts popped up. “Stupid,” “ignorant,” “un-thinking,” “job-killer” and more went flying by. It was a distraction she just didn’t need. So she went down into the control panel and shut off the notifications for her computer.
She took a deep breath and said, “I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing.”
Stacy had told her the best defense against debilitating depression was her own self-reassurance in her chosen direction. So she told herself what she needed to hear, whenever she was alone. She’d be mortified if anyone knew just how much she talked to herself.
On Zillow, she entered forest, over 5 acres and Washington as her criteria and hit search, which, because it was Washington, produced thousands upon thousands of results.
Undaunted, she started obsessively scrolling through page after page of pictures till she found exactly what she was looking for, a small house barely visible in the middle of a deep green forest.
The description sounded perfect.
At One with the Environment, This Unique, Cozy, Open Air Cabin is situated in a Peaceful, Private, Serene, Nature Lover’s Setting. With Distressed Wood Floors, a Composting toilet, near Running Water, and complete Energy Efficiency, the only thing missing is Your Imagination.
And the bonus was that it was only a hundred and eighty thousand dollars. You couldn’t buy a closet in San Francisco for that, let alone twenty acres. She laughed as she thought the property alone would probably run about a billion dollars in the City.
She sat back in her seat and thought about being there, walking through those green forests, taking the pictures to throw in the faces of those bastards at Fox News.
Once that idea was set in her head Cindy knew she couldn’t let it go. An impulse like that would hook its claws deep into her brain and it was going to keep scratching until it drove her crazy. She liked to think she could be spontaneous and adventurous. So she picked up her phone and called the real estate woman listed on the Zillow ad as Perry Foster.
“Hi, this is Perry,” she answered.
“Perry, my name is Cindy Allen and I’m interested in a property you have listed on Zillow.”
“Well, that’s just great! Which one?”
Cindy stated the Zillow ID number, and Perry replied, “That’s a great property.”
“The description sounds amazing.”
“And I would jump on it if I were you.”
“Why?”
“Well… I have a few families looking at it right now and I think they’re about to make an offer,” Perry explained.
The thought that someone could take the property away from her upset Cindy. “Then I’ll make an offer.”
“For how much?”
Cindy hadn’t bought property before, but she had been to more than a few charity auctions and she knew that if she wanted to win a bidding war then she was going to have to bid high. So she said, “Two hundred thousand.”
“Really?”
“Should it be higher?”
“Well… Don’t you have to check with your bank?” Perry asked.
“No. Why?”
“Most banks want inspections and appraisals before they’ll approve loans.”
Cindy laughed. “I don’t need a loan. I have more than enough to cover that in my trust fund.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She was proudly thinking she was finally going to buy something she wanted with her trust fund other than all the stocks and bonds Barrett was constantly trying to talk her into.
“So with cash you don’t need an inspection, an appraisal, or an extended escrow,” Perry explained.
Cindy really didn’t know what she was talking about, so she asked the most important question, “Okay, then when can I move in?”
“As soon as the wire funds get into the bank and you sign the paperwork,” Perry replied.
“Send me the details and my lawyer will get it taken care of today and I’ll be in your office tomorrow to sign the paperwork.”
“I’ll get that right out.”
Cindy thanked her and got an email reply back within moments. Then she picked up her phone to call the administrator of her trust, Barrett Ellis, whose secretary put Cindy straight through.
“Cindy, how are you today?”
“I’m great, Barrett. I’m going to e-mail you some information on a property I’m buying and I’d like you to get it taken care of.”
“Property?” Barrett asked.
She hit forward on the e-mail and could hear the ding on his computer a second later as she said, “You’ve been after me to diversify my trust a little more so I’m going to make this purchase.”
There was a momentary pause on the line as she assumed he looked over the e-mail, and then he asked, “Washington?”
Cindy always felt like Barrett was talking down to her and hated the way he questioned her. Her anger bled through as she said, “Yes, Washington! I’m not asking you for your advice! I’m telling you to take care of it.”
“As administrator of your trust It’s my responsibility to…”
“Barrett, this is a project I’m working on, so will you quit arguing
with me?”
“Hopefully it’s not another money pit like that ‘business’ of yours.”
“Just send the money today!”
Cindy slammed the phone down angrily and with a reverberating thump, which must have echoed through the office because a moment later Bailey peeked in her office door and asked, “Is everything okay?”
Cindy ignored the question as she said, “Bailey, I need you to book me on a plane to Washington tomorrow.”
“DC?”
“No the state of Washington.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’m buying a cabin on twenty acres up there.”
Bailey understood that Cindy needed to deal with what she’d said on-air earlier. Her face beamed with approval, which Cindy appreciated much more than Barrett Ellis’ obvious disapproval.
“Do you want me to get your parents’ jet?” Bailey asked.
The question threw Cindy out of her train of thought. And pushed her instead to think that riding in the private comfort of her parents’ jet might help her deal with her fear of flying. But she could just hear Stone Daniels calling her on the environmental impact and pampered behavior of her using the private jet. “No, book me on a commercial flight.”
“First class?”
“Yes.”
Though Cindy hadn’t been on a plane, she knew enough to know that taking a commercial flight would be bad enough, so there was no reason to not have at least a little extra space.
“I’ll take care of it.”
She was turning to leave, but Cindy stopped her by saying, “I’ll also need a car.”
“A town car with a driver?” Bailey asked.
It was what Cindy used when she’d go to most events in the City. And the thought that it would be nice to have in an area she’d never been in before was comforting. But once again she didn’t want those pictures or that paper trail being brought up by Fox so she shook her head and said, “No, a car for me to drive.”
Bailey’s eyes went wide as she asked, “Really?”
Cindy knew the look was a reaction to the fact that she never drove anywhere. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Once again, Bailey started to turn, but then a thought must have hit her because she turned back and said, “Do you want me to get you one of those survival packs?”
“What?”
“You know, it’s a pack with, like, a bunch of stuff to survive in the wilderness,” Bailey explained.
“But I’ll be staying in my cabin there.”
“If you have all that land, you could probably find some good places to take some pictures next to the pack and the stuff in it, like, you know, you’re really roughing it.”
“You know, that might be a good idea,” Cindy replied.
Bailey looked at her for a moment as if a thought was making a way through her head, before she finally sighed and tentatively asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”
For a moment, Cindy thought about it. The idea of having Bailey close to help with anything that might come up was comforting. But Cindy was feeling the confidence of buying the property, facing her fears, and finally showing those jerks at Fox what she was made of. So she just smiled and said, “No, I think I’ll be just fine.”
Chapter 4
“You did what?!?” Stacy asked.
“I bought a house,” Cindy repeated.
“Why?”
“Because I thought you would be happy that I’m stepping outside my little bubble.”
There was a pause on the line as if Stacy was thinking of a reply, but she bit back a response and instead sighed as she asked, “Where is it?”
“In Washington.” Cindy replied.
“DC?”
“No, the state of Washington.”
“Where in Washington?” Stacy asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“The pictures are beautiful,” Cindy said.
“So you, what, found it on the internet and bought it without going to look at it?”
“People buy things on the internet all the time.”
“Books, music, and vitamins. Not houses!”
“Why aren’t you supporting me? You know I need to do something or those Fox News jerks are going to make me look like a fool.”
“Cindy, we’ve talked about your need to seek acceptance through the attention of others. But sometimes you have a tendency to overreact. You get tunnel vision when it comes to anything that might make you look bad. And you go overboard in trying to react to situations like this. I appreciate you trying to attack this challenge head on, but trying to do something like this could do irreparable harm to your—”
“No, no, no. I made a choice, I’m trying to move forward, and if you’re going to do nothing but criticize me then I don’t need to talk to you!”
Cindy threw her phone down on the table next to her, grabbed her glass as it started to fall, and took the opportunity to finish it in two big gulps. Before she even had a second to put the glass down, Jenkins moved out of the shadows, pulling the cork out of the bottle to start filling the glass again.
“Will you need anything else?” he asked as he finished filling the glass and then bent over to pick up her phone.
“No thank you, Jenkins.”
“Then I will bid you a good night, Miss Allen.”
“Good night, Jenkins.”
The phone started ringing again with Stacy’s number, but Cindy was done talking to her, or anyone else. So she shut it off, sat back, took another long drink.
She had heard it all before.
According to Stacy, the lack of attention from her parents had led Cindy to be constantly seeking the attention of others, continually hunting for praise and value in their eyes instead of finding her own sense of self-worth.
“I know who I am and what I want,” she said as she stood up from her chair and looked down into the lights outlining the meticulously cared for garden.
More than anything in that moment, she wanted Stacy to support her.
Cindy finished her glass, and turned back towards her room. She wobbled a little as she walked, smiling with the thought she may have drunk the wine just a little too fast. But in her mind she was celebrating a massive step forward. Confident in her decision, she was going to prove what she was capable of, and then she was going to force Stone Daniels to eat his words.
When she reached her bed and fell down on her pillow, the wine helping push her into a quick sleep, she was smiling with the thought that she was doing the right thing.
Chapter 5
In the darkness behind her eyes, the blood-covered teeth burst forward to bite down hard—
Cindy stormed out of bed. Feet on the floor, back pushed up against the wall, she was on the verge of continuing the scream from her dream before she realized where she was. Still, her gaze darted around her room. Impending doom filled her chest, her body covered with sweat.
She could almost feel the teeth on her throat.
She ran to the bathroom just in time to spill out every drip of wine she’d drunk before she went to sleep.
Cindy stared into the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes too visible from the lack of sleep. She couldn’t remember the details of the dream. She’d never been able to. But the threat of attack still sat heavy in her chest.
“Everything will be okay.”
She tried to convince herself, and when that failed she moved on to distraction by reviewing the details of what she had to accomplish before she went out. But the fear wouldn’t go away. In the mirror, she looked deep into her eyes and said, “The only way to survive the memories is to ignore them.”
She’d paid good money, and spent way too many hours in therapy to learn to deal with situations like this. If she was going to get through the challenges of the day, she was going to have to fill her head with the tasks at hand. The more she filled her head, the less it would wander to those places she really didn’t want to visit.
S
he walked down the hall to her kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the pot Jenkins had set up the night before. She added her favorite creamer, took a deep drink, and started the massive inflow of caffeine she was going to need to function.
With one cup of coffee downed and another started, she stepped into a red-hot shower. Steam swirled up from the multiple showerheads, clouding the cut glass walls, and filling the bathroom. The water was scalding, the pain of it radiating through her, the heat seeking to burn away the memories in her head. Her normally milky white skin turned a deep, screaming crimson. In the end, the shower hurt more than it actually helped.
She stepped out, toweled off, slipped into her robe, and brushed off the mirror. She looked at her face. The dark rings had turned a little red, but were still there.
She closed her eyes, took a deep cleansing breath, and tried to imagine the goal. The face of Stone Daniels, sitting under his perfect hair, admitting just how wrong he’d been.
She smiled as she used that image to drive herself forward to get ready. She’d chosen her outfit the night before. Thick black leggings, a Burberry calf-length pencil skirt, a cream-colored Versace top, and a pair of Walter Steiger ballet flats, with a Burberry calf-length coat over the top.
She stood in front of the mirror, her gaze traveling from top to bottom as she turned back and forth, opening and closing the coat, making sure all the tags were off. Knowing the practicality of the outfit out in the country was highly questionable, she had packed more rustic clothes to change into once she got there. There was no reason not to travel in the same style she’d normally wear to the office.
She made another turn in front of the mirror. “And I do look good,” she said confidently.
Cindy walked into her kitchen alcove, which looked out over the foggy San Francisco Bay and rang the bell that brought Jenkins up with her breakfast.