Before us...

Chapter Eight

As he finished loading up the car with the essentials ready for his trip to his new home, Milo reflected on the conversation he had had the previous week with the realtor in Saratoga Springs. Once he had accepted that this town was where he should be, he had searched high and low for available properties in said town and had landed on a simplistic one-bedroom home that sat next to the entrance of a quaint cul-de-sac just outside the heart of town.

The realtor, Kyle Collins, had informed him that the home had belonged to an elderly gentleman whom had vacated the property three months ago to enjoy his retirement in Florida and had left the home in pristine condition. The strong, brick home contained a nicely sized living-room with a wide square window that allowed stunning natural light to shine throughout the room, according to Kyle, and was attached to a dining area with a wood-burning fire place that would do wonders during the harsh winter months. The two rooms were separated by an open cut out in a dividing wall which opened up the rooms nicely.

Kyle had sent some images of the kitchen area which was located to the right of the dining room and Milo saw that, although it was small, it would provide him with enough storage space for food and cutlery and he would have all that he would need to prepare his meals. Cooking had always been something which calmed Milo despite not being any good at it.

Built in the long wall which connected the dining room and kitchen was a stunning set of French doors that open out into a wonderfully small back yard that Milo saw an opportunity for. If he decided to stick around after the winter, he felt that he would be able to make something of the small space and would consider taking up gardening as the weather warmed having heard it was a fairly therapeutic activity. Towards the back of the yard, a row of dark trees stood in a tight line like guards, hovering over the small space and allowed Milo to feel safer knowing that his house would not be easily accessed by strangers as he slept in his small bedroom.

The bedroom was just down a short corridor and stood opposite the small, plain bathroom. Both rooms were rather small, but he felt that it would be good for him to be in a cosy home in a small town rather than the isolating largeness of his parent's home. Kyle had agreed to let Milo rent the home instead of buying it, understanding that Milo was not able to commit to homeowning at the current time and was even kind enough to allow Milo to send furniture ahead and sign for it as it arrived. As he stood outside his car in the Garage of the apartment building, he could feel himself beginning to get excited at the prospect of seeing the house with his own eyes for the first time.

His mother had insisted that she and his father wave him off as he left. Rose and Milo had not spoken much since their previous encounter a few weeks ago but it was as if a barrier had broken between them and they were able to at least be civil towards each other. This was something strange for the two of them, but a burden had been lifted from each of their shoulders, allowing them to feel more positive towards the other.

As his parents stepped of the elevator which had landed on the basement floor, Milo could see the disappointment etched on his Father's face. It was a look he was used to.

"You're really doing this? You're running away?" Walter asked.

"I am not running away Dad, I just can't be here anymore." Milo answered, irritably.

"I think this will be good for you Milo. And when you feel you're ready to come back you'll always have a place here." His mother stated, causing his father to scoff and Milo to offer her a small smile, ignoring his father's rudeness.

"Thanks Mom. I'll remember that." His mother, unexpectedly, moved forward and wrapped her skinny arms around her son for the first time in her life, hugging him briefly, before smiling up at him and turning away to make her way back upstairs leaving Milo and his father alone. His eyes followed her in shock before he tuned to his father who was frowning at him.

"What?" Milo asked impatiently.

"I..." Walter hesitated, "I..."

"Dad?"

"Nothing... never mind" His father huffed before stalking after his mother disappearing behind the elevator doors as it shut behind them. Milo was alone. But he felt at ease.

Milo limped around to the driver's side and slid into his car pulling the door behind him and turned the key in the ignition. When he heard the vehicle buzz to life, he slid it into drive and pulled out of the garage, onto the jam-packed streets of New York, and began his road trip to Saratoga Springs. It was not a particularly long journey, just over three hours, which his shoulder thanked him for, but he was anxious to get there and start anew.

He felt that he was moving at a snail's pace as he entered the morning flow of the City streets. He was eager to pull onto the high-way, which was a few miles away, and hopefully he would make it to town by lunch time so he could take the opportunity to explore it in the light of day. He felt lucky that the sun was shining bright on this the day he had decided to make the move. Milo also felt extremely luck that he had found a realtor who had made the renting process so quick and simple which allowed Milo to move in at a much faster pace than he had planned.

As he made his way through the slow-moving traffic, Milo felt himself pondering over the prospect of being in a new place with new people with no job and no people skills to boot. He felt that a small town, which was a popular summer spot, would be filled with people who adored small talk and communicating with their neighbours and the notion of that scared him to the core. Milo feared that he would be gawked at for his hollow appearance and his odd walk and his inability to look people in the eye and he almost wanted to turn the car back to the garage and lock himself in his room all over again.

No. No he needed this, he thought, it was the right thing to do for himself and it would help him. It had to. He had researched councillors who were stationed in town and had found a couple who he was considering visiting and reminded himself of this as he pulled onto the highway and travelled down route 87 getting closer to his destination already. The idea that he would be able to talk to someone without the pressure of making a friendship lulled him as he continued. The openness of the roads calmed him, the excitement returning as he focused on the long stretch of road ahead of him turning on the radio to keep his mind clear of worry as he went.

He does not stop. He drives continuously for over three hours, eager to enter Saratoga Springs as soon as possible and bobs along to music that he has never heard before that blasts from the speakers of his car, somehow managing to keep the car on the right side of the road. Before he knows it, there are signs for Saratoga Springs standing strong alongside the road counting down the mere matter of miles that he has left of his journey until he would arrive.

The numbers get smaller and smaller whilst his excitement grows. He follows the signs carefully, not wanting to miss anything and soon he is pulling off the high-way on his way to his new home. He slows down once he reaches a sign that welcomes him and consults his navigation system, which he has now turned on, and which he must rely on to get him to his home where Kyle should be waiting with his keys. He pushes on, driving cautiously as he glances out of the windows to take in as much as he can. He sees some small stores which have a flow of customers walking in and out with purchases, an abundance of restaurants and cafés and a small market in a little corner surrounded by woodland facing a small portion of the chilling lake which sits to his right. He jumps slightly as he drives across a rough bridge which sits above the lake and past an overpowering white church which remains on his left as he follows the route the machine tells him to take.

Milo is now driving through a street with rows and rows of houses which appeared to expand for miles wondering to himself; how big was this town? Before he takes a sharp right, pulling into the cul-de-sac where his house sat at the entrance and where Kyle was waiting upon the step of the front door holding his keys in his hand. He had a smile on his face as Milo parked his car, ready to meet him, eager to welcome him home.