Lavender

Chapter One

A knock on my window jolts me awake. Startled, I fumble with the buttons along the inside of my car door before rolling the driver's side window down just a few inches.

"Are you alright?" a short man with silver hair asks me, glancing down at the shiny white Mercedes E-class I had just recently acquired.

"Oh, yessir! I just got into town and it was a long drive, so I stopped to take a quick rest. I must have been more tired than I realized," I reply, followed by a nervous laugh. It takes a second for my heart rate to return to normal, having just nearly jumped out of my chest.

"Well where'd you begin this journey of yours?"

I've always had a place in my heart for elderly men— always so kind, and they all just love sharing stories with anyone who will listen. With his round belly and glasses resting at the end of his nose, the man bears more than a passing resemblance to my grandpa.

Just thinking of him causes the sinking feeling in my stomach to return, his death still fresh in my mind. Cancer took him from me only two short months ago, but it feels like forever. How is it that someone so worthy of life and happiness can be taken from this world so abruptly? Surely there are more deserving of death than he was.

I stop that train of thought, immediately feeling guilty. No one deserves that.

I didn't know then how to handle my grandfather's death or what to do with the seventy five million dollars in his lifelong savings that he left for me in his will. But after getting into a sticky situation back home, I knew I had to trade in my old gas guzzling jeep and use that money to start my life over somewhere fresh.

That's how I ended up in San Diego, California.

"Georgia, actually," I say to the man, snapping out of my reminiscence.

"You're a long way from home missy. Well I better be off, don't want to keep my old lady waiting. Enjoy the golden state!" He smiles and waves to me as he treks slowly back to his grey Buick, glancing once more over his shoulder, probably racking his brain trying to figure out what I was doing with this car.

I stretch, trying to wake myself up a bit more before starting up the engine, and then turn my GPS back on to make the hour and a half journey from the gas station I was currently at, to my new condo on the beach.

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When I pull into the paved horseshoe shaped driveway, I park my car in front of the two-car garage and just stare at my house.

My house.

It's still such a foreign feeling, that I have my own house. A mortgage. HOA fees. Bills. Two months ago I wouldn't have known how to go about buying a house, and now I actually own one.

Being the first time I've seen it in person, I'm completely overwhelmed. It's even more beautiful than the pictures I'd seen online. On the end of a row of about ten other two story condos, all different colors, mine is a light salmon color with white trimmings and two palm trees planted on either side of the front door.

The wind whips my long hair across my face as I climb out of my car and walk around the side of the house to examine the backyard.

Leaning against the cast iron rail surrounding the patio, I look out at waves crashing into the sand about two hundred yards away. The air here is arid, much unlike the humid Georgia air that I was accustomed to.

After a few minutes of adjusting to my new view, I go back to the mailbox where Cindy, my realtor, stashed my key, along with a welcome package of brochures and cards with phone numbers on them. Then, I practically fly to the front door. Unlocking both locks with shaky hands, I enter my new home. A mixture of excitement and anxiousness has my heart rate rising.