The Dreams We Keep - EDITING

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Miss Eve opened the front door to her Cape Cod style home before my snow boots even graced the first step. Pulling me up the remaining three steps, she greets me with a warm hug and eager smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come in, come in!" she exclaims.

Though she is typically a friendly woman, her extra exuberance had set me on edge. Why is she acting like she had just won the 50/50 raffle at the local bingo hall?

"Ellie, I'm so glad you're here! I have exciting news for you." She squeals as she drags me inside her white with blue shuttered home.

A blast of warm air greets me and I relish in the comfort of being somewhere that has fully functioning heat. Between the drafty windows and growing fear of paying the utilities bill, my house keeps to a cool 64 degrees during the winter months.

"Hi Miss Eve, what's going on?" I ask as I peel off my knee length black puffer coat that has lasted me through 4 Northeastern winters and will hopefully make it another 4 if I'm lucky. I hang the snow dusted coat up on an available gold peg attached to the white hall tree in the entryway of her home.

"Come! Come sit and I'll put the kettle on." She sounds like a kid on Christmas as she invites me into her well decorated home.

I remove my snow boots and mittens and follow Miss Eve into her open-concept living room. I tuck my legs under my body as I slump into her plush, oversized cream colored couch that most definitely would not fit in our small, crowded living room. Her warm home, smelling of vanilla, engulfs me in a much-needed hug. With an abundance of natural light, it was almost ethereal.

Miss Eve has a 55 inch TV perched on top of a walnut colored stand and a matching accent table that houses her most prized possession, her Victrola vintage vinyl record player. She had her favorite albums framed and hung up her walls, claiming they were too precious to play (but between you and me - she must take them down occasionally because I've heard her blasting that very same Neil Young album that hangs on her wall one afternoon when I showed up to my lesson early). Needless to say, Miss Eve takes music very seriously. Whether it's her Victrola, her vinyls, or her cello, Cleo (apparently I'm not the only one who names their instrument), Miss Eve handles them as one would handle a newborn baby. Her tender love and care has certainly passed on to me, as I hold Winnie dearly in my heart and would never want anything bad to happen to my beloved cello.

The sound of the kettle whistling pulls me out of my wandering thoughts. I sneak a glance back at Miss Eve who is bouncing around her kitchen humming a light tune as she opens a white cupboard to retrieve two teal mugs that she once told me she purchased from a local ceramics artist, boasting that shopping local is what keeps our small town thriving, and setting the beautifully crafted mugs on the white marble countertop.

"What kind of tea would you like dear?" she hollers out to me, focusing on turning the stovetop off and moving the kettle to a different burner to cool.

"Black tea please, with a splash of milk." I chimed back, picking at my fingernails and chewing on my bottom lip. What could all of this be about? Did she finally find herself a suitable man? Was she moving? Oh no, was she leaving me in this town all alone!? I can't lose my only ally! Ever since Louie went away to MIT, I relied heavily on Miss Eve's friendship to get me through. Her kindness and nurturing nature has been a godsend considering my own mom is too deep in her suffering.

"Coming right up!" She finishes pouring the hot water into the mugs and lets the tea bags steep.

The anticipation was killing me, my stomach was turning with anxiety. What could she have on her mind that had her buzzing with this much excitement? Nothing positive, nor exciting, has happened to me in a long time - not since I found out I was accepted into my top three colleges last April, that I later had to turn down to take care of my mom and our house and bills. But if i'm being honest, it wasn't just for my mom's sake. I also needed time to try to piece my own heart back together after losing Daddy. He was such a big part of my life that when he died, I was left with a massive, ugly, dark hole in my heart.