Lindy's Retreat

All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are all products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

"You're moving! Why the hell would you want to move?" Olivia asked, an incredulous look on her face.

Lindy pushed aside a plump, pink shrimp and shook her head.

"Do you just pick up these little pieces of corn on the cob with your fingers and eat them?"

Taken aback by the question, Olivia looked at her fingers.

"I guess so. How else would you eat it?"

"Hmm," Lindy murmured, picking up one of the small cobs and nibbling on the corn.

"You haven't answered my question," Olivia pressed, shaking a finger at Lindy.

Lindy waved a dismissive hand at her best friend and continued nibbling the corn.

"Sometimes you're so freaking frustrating," Olivia snapped in return. "Maybe that other 'F' word would be more appropriate." Her exasperation with Lindy was becoming more apparent.

Lindy carefully laid the now kernelless cobb on her extra napkin.

"Don't touch that plate until you answer the question." Olivia was nearly glaring at her friend.

"What was the question again?"

"I'm not above throwing some of this butter in your face," Olivia threatened with a laugh.

"Why do people usually move? They want to be somewhere else."

"So, you moving to New Albany or Muirfield with the rest of the millionaires?"

"I wish. Not going to any of those places."

Olivia noted that Lindy didn't deny the millionaire part. She raised her eyebrows in continuation of the question.

"We've kidded about it, Olivia, but I was a lot more serious than you suspected. I'm moving to Granville."

"Thinking about it or actually doing it?"

"Pretty much done." She took a deep breath. "I've sold the house ... and the business," she added, waiting for Olivia's reaction.

"You sold the fu—, the business?" Her eyes were wide in disbelief as she glanced sideways, hoping no one had heard her near-slip. "Am I allowed to ask why you did that and why you're moving to Granville, of all places?"

"I'm running away from life," Lindy answered with a giggle.

"Yeah, right."

"More right than you're imagining. I'm just tired and ready to run off and hide for a while and try to figure out what I want to do next. You know what I'm like. I'm not sure I could keep up that pace for the rest of my life ... unless my life were shortened quite a bit. "

"What do you want to do next?" a new voice repeated. "What's that mean, and what are we talking about?" Amber Russell, another of Lindy's close friends, had joined them.

"Hey, Amber. Our friend is full of surprises today. Sit down and see if you can figure her out."

Looking puzzled and concerned, Amber sat down.

Not to be distracted by chatter, Lindy pushed her fork into a jumbo-sized and very succulent-looking shrimp, the largest one still on the plate. She slowly bit off half of it, savoring the crunch, the firm texture, and the flavor, probably just Old Bay or Zatarain's Louisiana seasoning but, whatever it was, it was delicious. She chewed carefully, eyes closed, then used her teeth to pull the other half off the fork. She chewed slowly and deliberately, finally swallowing and opening her eyes.

"So, is the new you going to eat in a trance?" Olivia asked with light-hearted sarcasm

"I'm going to enjoy eating, I think, taking my time and enjoying the food instead of stuffing it in just so I have enough calories to keep going and don't waste time."

"What's going on?" Amber asked, looking from Lindy to Olivia. "This always happens when I'm the last one to get somewhere."

Olivia eyed Lindy. "You tell her, so I don't get anything wrong."

Lindy carefully ate another shrimp as she thought about how much to tell her two best friends.

"You better eat, Olivia." She cautioned.

"My chicken salad won't get hot or cold. Talk."

"Yeah, what the heck's going on?" Amber asked as she waved at the waitress.

"I'm just moving," Lindy laughed.

"To Granville," Olivia added snidely.

"Going back to college?"

"And she sold the business, too."

"No shit? Lindy, what the hell are you up to?"

"Gonna take a shot at enjoying life." She meticulously rolled a piece of potato in the juice until it was saturated, then slowly devoured it, eyes closed once more.

"You're so exasperating, Lindy. I know you're just stalling, so you can decide how much to tell us."

Of course, Olivia was correct. Lindy took a deep breath.

"I woke up one day and realized I was tired. I was rested, but my brain was still tired. I didn't want to sell houses; I wanted to walk through the woods and watch the animals. You know what I mean?"

"But you worked so hard to build the business. I can't imagine giving it up."

"I did work hard. And that's why I'm tired. The business paid me back nicely, though."

"It seems there has to be more than that," Amber offered.

"I suppose it's that, plus a lifetime of baggage." She knew that was the truth and hoped she could hold it together if her friends pushed her a little harder. These were her best friends, and she didn't want to shut this part of her life away from them. But some things from her past produced pain in both her brain and her heart when she thought of them. And, of course, the embarrassment. They both knew she had been married and divorced, and they had been friends during the marriage. They didn't know what had caused the divorce. And they didn't know about one other incident from many years ago.

Luckily the waitress stopped by their table, and Amber ordered, taking a little longer than expected since she hadn't had time to peruse the menu. She finally chose half a Cobb salad and some iced tea, and two sets of eyes were back on Lindy.

"What I said is true. I want to try something else."

Olivia squinted at her. "You're gonna miss selling those houses, and haggling with people, and making those big bucks."

"I'm not sure 'miss' is the right word. It won't be there, but I'm not sure I'm going to miss it. If I were, I probably wouldn't be doing this."

"So, what will you be doing in Granville? Sounds kind of boring if you ask me."

"It's a place where missionaries retire," Lindy chuckled.

Amber snorted. "That would win me over for sure. Missionaries?"

"A Baptist state headquarters is there, and missionaries still go there to retire. They probably make good neighbors." Lindy prepped another piece of potato and ate it.

"If you want to pray all the time, probably so. If you want a little excitement, not so much," Amber retorted.

"You need to listen, Amber," Olivia gently scolded. "She's not looking for excitement; she wants, well, I guess, peace and quiet."

Lindy nodded in acknowledgment. "Finally," she said.

"Sorry. I guess I just haven't wrapped my brain around that idea yet, after knowing you for about fifteen years." The perplexed look seemed fixed to Olivia's face.

"It's a switch for sure."

Any details yet?" Olivia queried.

"A little. I close on a house there on Tuesday."

"Oh my gosh, a Butler Mansion. One of those big old houses on the square kind of thing?" Amber was excited again.

Lindy shook her head, amazed that her friends kept missing the point.

"It's a little bungalow with a very inviting veranda along one side and a low-pitched roof. It has a living room, adequate, an eating area, a wonderful kitchen and ... a single bedroom. It's on five acres of land and backs up to woods. And the closest neighbors aren't very close. It's exactly what I was looking for." She smiled from one to the other.

"Wow," Amber responded as the waitress delivered her salad.

"I'll probably try to sell a few houses, nothing major, just to keep my finger in and get some spending money. I'll probably travel some too. I particularly want to see Alaska and Saint Martin."

"You're weird," Olivia responded. "Alaska isn't bad in the summer, though."

"Going in the winter. That's what I want to see. Blizzards and ice."

Amber struggled to get a poorly cut piece of lettuce into her mouth without smearing dressing all over her face, being only partially successful. Her napkin was put to good use, and she was ready for more conversation.

"So, it's all settled?"

"Pretty much. You guys can come out Wednesday and help me unpack and get set up."

"I'm in Atlanta on Wednesday," Olivia volunteered. "Stupid HR conference about insurance."

"I'm free in the evening, and I'm already dying to see the bungalow. I'll be there. Text me what I can bring to eat."

"Will do."

Lindy could easily understand why her two friends had such difficulty comprehending the apparent change in her life. She'd always been the typical type A personality, driven, organized, goal-oriented, and highly competitive. It had begun in college and continued as she started her career in real estate. She sold houses—really sold houses, always at least one and, more often than not, two each week. She lived frugally, and her bank account grew, which allowed her to start her own company. It succeeded due to her enthusiasm and care in selecting those who'd work for her.

Her meticulous attention to detail eliminated mistakes, and her employees soon learned to be the same if they wanted to continue working there. Most were making enough money that there was no question of them falling into line. Of course, all of this took time, almost more time than there was in the day. She told herself she had to keep it up so the business would continue to grow, and one day, she could sell it and retire. It was only when she'd stumbled across an article about "evaluating your business" that she took the time to do just that. She was amazed at what it was worth.

When she'd had an episode of dizziness and nausea while working and reluctantly taken enough time to see a doctor, she'd been told she better slow down, or her body would take it on itself to slow down—and possibly stop altogether. Those few words from the doctor caused her to rethink what she was doing and what her aims were. Thus, the decision to sell and ... live.

Lindy knew she couldn't change everything, particularly all at once. She'd have to adjust goals, aims, even her daily activities, but she was looking forward to it.

She worked all day Wednesday putting things away, arranging other things, and cleaning as she went. She'd relented somewhat and rented a storage unit, struggling to decide what to stash and what to get rid of. It was something she'd never had to do before. She was tempted to sell the stored things as it seemed like a backup, in case she couldn't make a go of the change. Failure was never an option with her, but she decided to keep the stored things despite that.

Amber arrived at about five-thirty with pizza—plain pepperoni, of course, none of that pineapple or other junk that wasn't real pizza—and dug right into the cleaning process.

"I don't know where anything goes," Amber said, "but I do know how to scrub and dust. I'll just try to stay ahead of you."

"You're a true friend," Amber.

"I'm nosy and need to keep up. You'll just have to put up with me."

In return, she got a lung-emptying bear hug from Lindy.

"You're wonderful, and thank you."

Amber stayed until ten-thirty, helping, talking, and sharing, working hard to understand what Lindy had done and why. She was left with many unanswered questions, much of it purposely done, she was sure, as Lindy wasn't quite ready to open herself completely. She certainly knew Lindy well enough to know there were things in her life that she didn't seem to share with anyone. "Baggage," it was always called with a laugh. But the baggage was never opened for inspection.

"Maybe you can find a good man out here, a retired missionary or something."

Lindy snorted. "We'll see," she answered, not wanting to launch another discussion this late at night.

But Amber wasn't going to let it drop.

"I'm serious. I think a good man could make a big difference in you."

"No way, Amber. You just don't know." Her heart was beginning to pound, her insides twisting.

"You were married." Another dart from Amber.

Lindy took a deep breath. Her eyes were beginning to water, and she was trembling as she remembered. She glowered at Amber, losing control of her emotions.

"Yeah, I was married—the perfect guy. Then I had a miscarriage, and he kept after me, trying to figure what I'd done wrong. There was a second one, and he bitched at me and had me reading about miscarriages. When there was a third ..." She sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks. "After the third, he said I wasn't worth wasting his sperm on, or even fucking anymore, and he left. Filed for divorce and disappeared."

"I'm sorry. I'm insensitive, nosy, and stupid," Amber lamented. "Forgive me?" She was near tears as well.

"I'm not upset with you." A big sniff and Lindy searched for a tissue. "I just don't need a man. In fact, I'm avoiding them. I have been since ..."

There was an awkward silence, punctuated by a few sniffles.

"I better get going," Amber finally said quietly. "Early morning tomorrow."

"Can't thank you enough for the help." Lindy took a deep breath. She was embarrassed at her outburst, so unlike her.

"Let me know if you need more." Amber smiled.

A warm hug between best friends followed.

After Amber had gone home, Lindy showered, putting her conversation with Amber behind her. She climbed into a new set of pajamas, slid between the fresh sheets on her bed, and went to sleep, a smile on her face.

For the first time in who knows how long, Lindy awoke minus the sound of the alarm. She lay in the comfortable bed for a few minutes, watching the changing shadow patterns on her window shades. But she was anxious to start her "new" life. Unfortunately, one of her main chores for this first day was a trip to the grocery for some significant stocking of the refrigerator and the small pantry.

First, she wanted to explore a little, so she dressed in her running gear, stretched carefully, and was off, her spirits buoyed by the freedom to do just that without feeling guilty about not getting something done.

She'd been a runner in high school and college and had never lost her competitive instincts and love of running. In the summer, when she could work it into her schedule, she enjoyed entering road races and usually went home with an age group award which sat on a table for a day or two, then went in the trash.

This morning she was cruising along, enjoying the weather and getting to know the neighborhood. After fifteen minutes, she came to a driveway that led into Denison University. Curious, she headed up the driveway and onto the campus. She passed the athletic complex and then worked her way up the long hill to the main part of the campus. The mixture of old and new was fascinating, but she was beginning to feel the effects of the hills she wasn't used to at all.

She retraced her route through the campus, sailing particularly smoothly down the long hill. As she passed the huge field house, a man in a "Denison Track" shirt waved at her. She loved the runner's camaraderie and returned the wave.

She had deciphered enough of the Granville geography to get back to her house without having to retrace her steps. Inside once more, she showered, dressed casually, and headed to the village square to find some breakfast. She'd heard that Day Y Noche, a little Mexican restaurant, had good breakfasts, so she decided to give it a try.

"Hi, honey," the waitress said, smiling brightly at Lindy. "Don't think I've seen you here before."

Returning the smile, Lindy replied, "Just moved in yesterday, so I'm finding my way around."

"Honey, you've found your way to the right place. What can I get you?"

Lindy smiled. No Pop-Tarts or frozen waffles this morning. She didn't want to get fat, but she didn't mind eating.

"Two eggs, scrambled, some crisp bacon, and some good, hot coffee should fix me up perfectly."

"Five minutes, and you'll have it, and I'm Angela."

Lindy felt the breeze as Angela rushed past her, heading toward the kitchen. She was clearly anxious to make sure Lindy was happy she had chosen Day Y Noche. She took advantage of the time to look around, smiling at the very homey atmosphere of the restaurant, a fresh flower on each table. She was sure she'd be back.

True to her word, Angela was back in under five minutes with breakfast.

"Told ya," she said, laughing.

"And I'm Lindy."

"Hi, Lindy. Enjoy your food and just wave if you need anything."

If everyone was like Angela and everything was like Day Y Noche, she'd be glad she'd moved to Granville. She knew the probability of that happening was small. Nevertheless, she was hopeful.

Lindy spent the next few days cleaning, arranging, and exploring. She enjoyed her daily runs, slowly acclimating herself to the hills. Without thinking about it, no matter what direction her run began, it eventually wound its way through the Denison campus.

On Monday, she was gliding down the long hill toward the fieldhouse when someone waving caught her attention. She recognized the waver as the same man who wore the "Denison Track" shirt the other day. This time, though, it was clear he wanted her to stop. She swung to the right, jogged over to the man, and stopped.

"Hi," he said with a big smile. "I'm Jerry Merchant, the track and cross country coach here at Denison." He extended a hand.

"Lindy Butler and I'm afraid I'm a little sweaty," she apologized.

Jerry's hand remained extended, and, with a smile, she shook it.

"Glad to meet you," she said, returning his smile.

"The same," he replied. "I've noticed you running here on campus—you obviously are a runner and not a jogger." Another smile.

"Two things," she giggled in response. I'm a little old to be a collegiate runner, plus I've used all my eligibility," she laughed.

There was a belly laugh from Jerry. Wanting to be diplomatic, he bowed slightly toward her.

"I'd never have guessed you were that old," he said, accompanied by another of Lindy's giggles.

"We can dance like this if you'd like, but there's a reason you stopped me."

"I like that," he said. "So, let me get straight to it. You're obviously a runner. I'm looking for an assistant to help with the women, distance running." He sent a questioning look at a stunned Lindy.

"Um, I wasn't expecting that."

"Think about it. I have no idea how you spend your time, but you might enjoy being a volunteer coach. I'm sure the girls would enjoy having you work with them."

"Right this moment, my answer would be no. But it was such a surprise, let me think about it for a couple of days, okay?"

"Hey, no problem. I couldn't figure out a way not to surprise you, and don't feel a bit bad if you decide to say no. I've been coaching here for thirty-one years, and I've had some yeses and some nos, so I'm used to it."

Lindy was shaking her head. "I'll let you know," she said weakly.

"Thanks," Jerry said. "Just go through the double doors over there, and the student monitor will direct you to my office."

"I'll do it," Lindy replied. She waved and finished the run down the long hill. She'd been in Granville less than a week, and already there were complications, just what she'd moved there to avoid. She tried to think objectively. She knew she'd enjoy the coaching as she'd always loved working with people. The commitment of time, tying her down somewhat, was what she didn't like.