Falling Forward

by Dawn Robertson

  “So, yeah. I guess this is probably a good time to talk.” I let out a nervous laugh, as I grab the hair tie off my wrist and throw my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head as well.

  “Ya think?” she sasses me. “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were trying to escape in the middle of the damn night.” She’s right. If I could have just disappeared, that would have been perfect. In reality, there are too many people that would make a big stink looking for me.

  “I just… need a change. I didn’t know where I was going to be going until probably a half hour ago. I was going to tell you and everyone, I just wanted a more solid plan before I started telling everyone what I was doing.” I make excuses. I’m good at that. It’s one of my biggest character traits.

  “I know you’ve been through a lot Luna, but you can’t run away from your problems.” She walks over and wraps her arms around me. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment like this. Even with the services for mom, we didn’t have a moment to ourselves without the rest of the world interrupting us.

  “I won the Powerball.” The words come out of my mouth before I have time to stop them. I’ve been itching to blurt it out to someone.

  “Shut the fuck up! Whatever. You are such an asshole.” Violet laughs while making her way to my fridge. “Seriously though, like… what’s with all the boxes?” she says, grabbing a bottle of Stella, twisting off the top, then flinging it across the kitchen in the direction of the garbage can and totally missing.

  “I’m serious Vi, I won the Powerball. Look.” I pull up the article on my phone describing the winner as a single twenty-eight-year-old woman from Florida. I’m desperate for her to actually believe me.

  “I’m moving. You can have the condo, since I know you are getting ready to sell mom’s house,” I add. It seems like the right thing to do. After fleeing her abusive ex-boyfriend a few months ago, Mom was helping her to get on her feet and start a new life. She’s always been a nomad and it finally seems like she was going to stay here in Florida for good. Nothing good has come of her travels. I feel bad too, because as a big sister, I feel like it’s been my job to protect her and I did nothing of the sort. I let her go off and spread her wings.

  “You aren’t kidding,” she deadpans with a serious expression on her face. Violet looks like she’s seen a ghost. “You really fucking won the lottery?” she asks for confirmation, her eyes welling up with tears.

  “Yeah,” I reply with really nothing else to say. “You can’t tell anyone though. I don’t want to the world to know what happened. You have no idea what kind of problems that would cause. I don’t like people as it is. I went through a lot to make sure I could claim this without it being connected to my own name,” I ramble on, since that’s what I do when I’m nervous.

  “Seriously Lu? You think I would throw you under the bus like that? I won’t even tell Lucy.” She laughs, and I join her, knowing Lucy would be right there with her hand out expecting half of whatever is mine. I’m not exactly sure where she came up with the sense of entitlement she lives with today, but I almost think it’s partially her husband’s fault. Kent and his family are just that way. Old money Georgian family, obsessed with appearances. She fit right in.

  “I just want to make sure. I don’t think you’d do that to me, I just…” I trail off because I really have nothing to say. I don’t know what I am trying to do. I’m running away from my life, and I don’t want her to think any less of me for moving on.

  “I get it. I really do, Luna. I promise.” Violet puts her beer down on the counter and gives me another hug. It’s like she knows I need it. Her hugs are almost as good as mom’s.

  “So, when are we going shopping?” she jokes with a deep laugh. I join in, thinking about a little retail therapy myself. I’d buy her just about anything she wants at this point. Why not?

  “Whenever you want.” This time I give her a hug. “Are you gonna be able to get by without me around?” I ask her with serious concern. I always worry about her, but for the longest time our mother kept tabs on her. I feel like I am the one who has to step in and make sure everything is going to be okay.

  “I’ll be just fine, but you do have to let me know where you are going,” she gives me shit. I’ll miss this, but I’ve also been on my own for so long that I’ve learned to enjoy the peace and quiet that being alone gives me.

  “Nothing is in stone yet, but it looks like Savannah.” I toss the piece of paper in her direction and her face lights up.

  “You did the Dad thing,” she says with a smile, while the tears start to form in the corners of her green eyes again. “You based where you are going to move your life, on a couple pieces of paper in a hat?”

  “I couldn’t think of a better way.”

  And I know my Dad is smiling down on me every step of the way.

  Chapter 5

  Savannah or Bust

  I spent the next week looking at homes in Savannah on the internet. Eventually, I contacted a realtor in the local area for some information. My search focused on townhouses in the historical district of Savannah. Downtown where all the nightlife is, everything is within walking distance, and they are all just so beautiful.

  Violet started to move her things into my condo, as she cleaned out my parents’ house to put on the market. We donated a ton of stuff to the local Veterans re-sale store, had a couple tag sales, and trucked along. I helped her where and when I could, but it was refreshing to spend the last little bit of time that I had in Orlando with her. I offered to bring her to Savannah with me, but she seemed pretty excited at the opportunity to live in my condo. I don’t blame her, it is pretty sweet.

  I kick my feet up on the couch that I finally cleared off, and spark up a joint. Turning on some Willie Nelson, I pass it to my sister.

  “I think I finally found the one,” I laugh as Willie and Snoop Dog sing, Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die.

  “Lemme see,” she says, passing the joint back to me as I pass her my MacBook laptop with the Zillow listing open. The one, is a townhouse on the most beautiful street in America; Jones Street. I never knew much about the city, but the realtor gave me a tidbit of information about the street. Apparently, it is such a luxurious area that the phrase ‘keeping up with the Jones’’ came from the people the street was actually named after.

  “That is huge… do you need all that room?” She is kind of right, I don’t think anyone actually needs eight bedrooms, but the views are to die for. Maybe I should be more reasonable?

  “I guess not, but it is a sweet house.” I try and think of a reason that I could possibly need that much room. I could start a bed and breakfast? Shit, that is a good idea, but I don’t like people all that much. That may be a little much for me.

  “How about this one?” I click on a property that is a super rare, single-family home in the historical district, built in 1818, fully restored and on Columbia square. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, with a little over four-thousand square feet. The home was built for Francis Stone, and boasts the historical plaque on the front of the home. In the rear of the home is a fenced in courtyard with an inground swimming pool, spacious outdoor porches on every level of the home, and an off-street parking option for three cars. The first floor is converted into a one-bedroom apartment, that can be used as an income property, and the main living level begins on the second floor. The home is everything I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl. The white wooden siding with the grey shutters are the perfect finishing touches.

  “I think that is a little more reasonable,” Violet says in between coughing from the hit she just took from the joint. I can’t help but laugh. Amateur.

  “I think this is the one. East State Street it is.” I send a quick text message to my real estate agent in Savannah, instructing her to make a cash offer on the home listed for just a little over one million dollars. Closing in one week, hoping that it is something the sellers can accommodate. I’ve been itching to get out of Florida, an
d just be done with the rat race of the city of Orlando. No matter where I go, it’s a half hour in traffic.

  “Pass that shit back over here,” I laugh, needing to relax a little given the major life changes coming my way. I can tell you, it’s been awesome not having to work lately. I never realized exactly how stressful my life was until I cut all of the stress and bullshit from it. I take a hit from the last little bit of the joint we’ve been splitting, and let all my worry out in my exhale.

  “Life is good,” Violet says, and I agree with her. I didn’t think I would be able to come to peace so quickly after losing mom, but I think this all was a little bit of a wakeup call to start living my life. With or without the lottery winnings, I think it was time for a change. I’ve just been blessed with the options given to me in this fortunate incident.

  “I think I am gonna leave in the morning. I’ll get a hotel room for a couple days, live off of room service, get familiar with the city, and actually go take a look at this house before I spend more money than I’ve ever had in my entire life on it.” I’m trying to be responsible. “I’ll schedule movers for the rest of my stuff when I am all set to close, and then this place is all yours. I’ll call Rob to have the title work done so everything will be paid in full and in your name.” Of course, the realtor in me thinks of all the legwork I’ll have to do instead of the gift itself.

  “I know you don’t have a lot of stuff, so just let me know what you want to keep or what you need. We’ll go from there, oh and Happy Birthday.” I laugh, knowing her birthday isn’t until November, but here we are in June. Standing up from the couch, she stumbles in my direction and I catch her in my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a tight squeeze.

  “I love you. Thank you,” she says trying to push the emotion away. So much like me, even though she insists she isn’t. I don’t push it with her anymore though. A smile pulls at the corner of my lips and, for the first time in so long, I know what it is to be happy.

  “Okay enough of this emotional bullshit,” Violet says. “You realize you can’t fit much in that midget car of yours,” she says, making fun of my baby. I’m such a dude when it comes to cars. She’s right too, I can barely fit groceries in the trunk of my Corvette. My mind begins to wander, building a plan for having my car transported once I close on my house. I’m like a kid in a candy store, scrolling through the Land Rover website. I’ve wanted one for the longest time, and why not?

  “I’m getting a Land Rover, come with me tomorrow and help me pick it out?” I ask her.

  “God, you’re a brat already!” she laughs.

  I guess I’m totally a brat now.

  The drive to Savannah is a little over four hours from Orlando. It’s an hour on the scary ass I-4, from Orlando to the Daytona Beach area, then a straight shot up I-95 until you hit the exit for the connector to the historical district of Savannah. I stopped twice on the way, once in Jacksonville to pee because the giant Pink Drink I got from Starbucks was putting the smackdown on my bladder, and again about an hour into Georgia to top off my gas tank. For the most part, I rocked out to Backspin on Sirius and spend the last leg of the trip listing to the new Coldplay EP. Both solid choices for a long road trip.

  Coming to the end of the connector, you can see a giant white historical church steeple. When it came into the line of my sight, my heart skipped a beat. I knew this was right, everything about the choice I made is right. I’m excited for the sea of possibilities in front of me. I follow my navigation system in my brand-new Range Rover Velar, through the bustling streets of Savannah. Coming to a stop in in the valet of the Bohemian Hotel, where I’ve booked a full two weeks in a beautiful river view king suite. I’m not sure how it’s going to be living out of a hotel room for a couple weeks, because I’m a creature of habit.

  Leaving the trunk packed full, I only pull out my suitcase of clothes and my tote bag with my laptop and a couple books, bunch of random must have things, and my purse. A lovely younger bellhop grabs my suitcase and tote, as I am in route to the front desk to check in. The lobby is absolutely gorgeous, super modern and dimly lit. Very hipster if you ask me, but I like it.

  The young blonde behind the counter quickly looks up my reservation, getting my key and telling me all the features of the hotel. The rooftop dining, full bar, and complete room service services. Anything from booking a trolley tour to bringing me cheesecake at midnight.

  “Must have dinner in Savannah?” I ask her, looking for something delicious to indulge in later this evening. “I mean, I know you work here and all, and I’m sure the food is killer, but I want to go out and explore tonight.” She lets out a laugh and looks around to make sure the coast is clear.

  “Go to The Treylor Park. Get the nachos.” I’m sold at nachos. “Best munchie food I’ve ever had,” she adds. I write a note in my phone and thank her, while I head up to the seventh floor of the hotel. Each inch of the hotel is beautiful, every detail has had so much thought put into it. You can just tell. I pass by a table of guys in business suits sitting at the bar. I’ll take one of each, I think to myself as I walk by and smile at them. I’m sure they think I look like an absolute hobo. I have an old Ramones T-shirt on with a pair of yoga pants, and all my hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun. What? I just took a road trip, I’m not exactly runway material. The sexy one with the dark blue glasses and dark hair winks at me, and I internally do a little backflip. I think I am going to do just fine here in Savannah.

  The elevator opens and I press the button for my floor, the elevator springs to life and all I can think about is the elevator scene in Fifty Shades of Grey. Maybe I’m just horny? I should have packed my sex toys in the car with me, instead of in my pile for the movers? I let out a laugh as the doors open on my floor. My room is all the way at the end of the hallway, swiping my room key I am impressed with the room instantly. I could totally live here full time. The huge room has an oversized bed in the center, with a balcony overlooking the river. The first thing I do is dump my purse on the floor and make a bee line for the balcony sliders, opening the door and stepping out onto the sitting area. I reach into the waistband of my yoga pants and pull out my cellphone, snapping a picture of the river and posting it onto my Instagram account for the first time in weeks. I’ve ignored social media altogether, but I finally feel like it is time to join the world again.

  I caption the photo:

  This is the life. #SavannahGA #NewBeginnings #LunaDoesSavannah

  To new beginnings!

  The amount of time I take to get ready tonight is disgusting. I soaked in the spacious garden tub for a good half hour, before washing my hair and scrubbing my sweaty ass. Drying and straightening my long hair took almost another forty-five minutes, and then came the makeup battle. I may complain about it, but I really love taking the time to make myself look nice, it makes me feel better about myself in general when I do it. That was one thing I really loved about working in real estate, every day was a game of dress up. I always wore a pressed pant suit or a nice dress.

  It was an ego boost. I fully believe when you look good, you feel better about yourself. I look in the full-length mirror across from my giant bed for the next few weeks and just feel good. I’m happy, I look good, life is good. Who would have thought this would be my life? I still battle hourly with disbelief of what has happened in the past couple weeks. My upside-down world is finally starting to settle. I’m really excited to go out exploring in the city for the night. I not only have a paper map from the concierge, but I have my phone on standby.

  The only thing that would make this better, would be actually having someone to go on this adventure with. Something about going out to eat by myself isn’t exactly my favorite thing to do, but I’m going to have to get used to it until I meet some people in this town. I slip on a pair of donut print flip-flops and take one last look in the mirror. My adorable floral sundress is perfect for an evening out. I sling my Michael Kors over my shoulder and toss my phone into the bag
. No back pocket to shove it in tonight. The only thing I don’t like about dresses.

  On my way out of the hotel room, I grab my key and throw it inside my purse as well, then I’m on my way for the night. According to the map, if I take the side street stairs in front of the hotel it will bring me right up to East Bay Street, where the Treylor Park is. My first stop for the night for drinks and those nachos I’ve been thinking about all night. As I make my way out into the city, everything is so lively. Crowds of bridal parties pass me by on their way to Club One for the drag show tonight, while college age kids carry their beers in red solo cups down the street.

  In Savannah, you can get drunk in public, there is no open container law, which makes it so attractive to the party community. That is one of the reasons I really love this city too, who doesn't want to take their beverage to go? Stopping in front of a huge oak tree in the sprawling green on Bay Street, I snap a selfie and put it on Instagram for the night. Might as well keep the pictures coming.

  Bay Street Green! Out exploring for the night. #LunaDoesSavannah #NewBeginnings #SavannahGA #HistoricDistrict

  Damn my hair looks good tonight. I laugh as I continue my way to my destination. It really isn’t a long walk, and once I cross the street I can see the crowd in front of the new hipster establishment. There is totally a wait, but I pass through the two sets of doors to the hostess.

  “Is there any bar seating?” I ask, since it’s Luna party of one.

  “Yes, if you go thru those doors,” she points towards the back of the building, “there is a full bar out back.” Exactly what I wanted to hear.

  “Thank you,” I say to the young girl, and make my way to the back patio. I love the atmosphere of the patio section. There is a bar on one side of the back with seating, and then several tables under a small canvas covering. There are strings of lights decorating the fence, and quite a few people sitting at the bar have their dogs. I love it.