Page 39 of Ask Me To Stay

“As long as you’re happy,” he quips back, clearing his throat.

“Billie?” An older woman steps out the front door. She has a bright purple long sleeve shirt with velvet green pants.

Her voice matches her clothing. Loud.

“Yes, hello, Mrs. Gunderson?” I walk to the front steps with my dad's boots cracking against the gravel close behind me. “This is my dad, Wesley.”

She nods at him, welcoming him too. She begins walking back inside with her back hunched over. An older man stands on a ladder adjusting a light bulb in the small living room. A single door leads to the backyard, visible from the front door. A slim trail leads into the woods in the direction of the river, which is hidden behind the pine trees scattered all over the land.

My dad and I walk through the small two bedroom house. It’s a little outdated, but it has charm. I’m not picky, I just care about the location.

“Do you have an application that I could fill out?” I ask eagerly.

“Sure, honey. If your credit and references look good, then I think you’d be a great fit.”

“I appreciate it.”

She slides the application and a pen to me. I fill it out in a few short minutes feeling confident about the place. It’s a twelve month lease which feels so long. I know it’s standard, but a whole year feels like a lifetime right now.

“Sean over there is a real catch, honey,” Mrs. Gunderson says to me.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” I reply, pushing my hair behind my ears.

Spending my time with a guy probably wasn’t what my dad expected when I came home. He hasn’t seen my adult life, so I’m sure whatever he imagines isn’t good.

“You keep him. He’s one of the good ones.”

The older generation is always butting into the younger’s lives.

“Oh, we aren’t together.” It doesn’t sound convincing, even to me.

She giggles at me softly, in that typical, I-know-more-than-you-do way.

“You play hard to get, I see. I was that way too. Even with Richard. Eventually you just give in.”

“Stop talking ‘bout me, Anne!” Richard yells from the living room, still messing with the overhead light.

“I’ve seen many people in love and many people who think they’re in love—just the way Sean was speaking about you. That boy has a whole lot of feelings for you.”

She thinks she might know everything, but she doesn’t know the history.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, biting my lip.

For a half hour, the Gundersons go back and forth telling stories about raising their son in this house. About the creaky knob on the bedroom door and how the water pressure can be a bit iffy.

It feels like I already have the place. Finally, it feels like moving on.

9

Present Day

These past four weeks have gone by quicker than time ever has. It didn’t take long for my application to go through and for Anne and Richard, who I’m now on a first name basis with, to approve me as their tenant. I’ve been busy shopping for a mattress and bed frame, plus all of the other furniture I’ll need.

As I unlock my front door, I get the pungent smell of paint coming at my face. I hope my nose gets used to it quickly, or it’ll make for an unpleasant night while I sleep. I place the takeout on the counter and walk into my bedroom, where Sean is finishing up the trim on the walls.

“It looks great,” I tell him.

The sage color I chose brings a coziness that this room desperately needed. I’m glad Anne didn't mind that I wanted to paint. Many home owners don’t want you changing too much that they’ll have to fix later.