AUTHOR'S NOTE UNRELATED TO THIS STORY: in the midst of finishing this, I received some disconcerting news. First of all, in February 2019 my old e-mail address was hacked. I changed it, but was not able to update it in my Lit settings. This was recently brought to my attention when a Reader mentioned sending me feedback, but I never got it. What this means is that if you've sent me feedback anytime between Feb. '19 and now, I'm afraid I was unable to see it. I'm terribly sorry for that, and for not replying. Please know I haven't been ignoring you, Readers, and that your feedback and support still mean the world to me. I never want you to feel that you're being taken for granted. If that happened anytime between now and then, again, my sincerest apologies. You and your love are firmly embedded in my heart. I also don't want this to discourage you from feedbacking me in the future. I'll be checking semi-frequently, but it now looks that I should receive it. And now that that's out of the way, I give you... "At Home."
*****
Steady-Fast Stroller
Friday, October 18th, 2019, 5:36 p.m.
It was the latest in a series of days vying for fall's most beautiful. It was one of the most gorgeous Juniper autumns on record, and looked only brighter—so to speak—from here. The temperature slipped below 60°, but humidity kept it pleasant for fair weather lovers. Birds and crickets went about their business as usual. Periodic breezes buffeted trees in suburban neighborhoods. And a brunette lass of 32 carried on her own individual activity: speed-walking the neighborhood while listening to a playlist on her phone.
She reached another corner as one more song faded out. The soundtrack was taken over by England's young blonde angel Ellie Goulding. The speed-walker, who was formally named Suzanne Sutphin but went always by Suzie, softly sang along. She loved belting out tunes in her car, and were it up to her, she'd warble out loud on walks as well. Walking was nice, and kept her in decent shape, but singing held a certain magic for Suzie. Even if she couldn't do it professionally. As a teenager, she wanted to be a singer and recording artist, but had soon enough to face reality. There was a little something called talent, where she fell short. But this didn't mean she couldn't entertain herself on walks and drives, merely pretending she was performing for a crowd.
The neighborhood she'd chosen for tonight's walk held a great deal of significance for her. It was that in which she grew up, retaining all her fondest childhood memories. At 17, her family relocated to the outskirts of town. To date, her folks occupied the same cottage house where they'd moved. When Suzie set out on her own, she took residence in a small but suitable apartment in Tudorville County—or as the landlord described it, "modest and cozy." Suzie knew this was code for "tiny," but it would do for her and her alone. Its neighborhood too sufficed for speed-walks, but was abundant in hills. They wore Suzie out.
Back in her childhood neck of the woods, one thing Suzie could do was socialize with neighbors out and about. This happened halfway down her old street, at 1821 Acorn Court, where resident Bennett Ward emerged to get his mail.
"Hi Ben," Suzie waved.
"Suze! Good to see ya!" Bennett waved back. "How's tricks?"
"Oh, y'know, just workin' it out," Suzie wiped away some brow sweat and jogged in place. "Try'na keep in shape. 'S tough though."
"Tell me about it," chuckled Ben. "Imagine having a mouthful of sweet teeth like mine all these years."
"Heh! I
can
," Suzie assured him. "Hey, y'know, while I'm thinking about it, I've been wondering: who moved into our old place after we were out? Anyone interesting?"
Bennett crossed his arms. "Oh wow, god, yeah..." he pondered. "'Ssee, that would've been...what, ten years ago?"
"Fifteen."
"Fifteen, right! Damn, 2004... what was goin' on then. Hmm... I wanna say the place was empty for a good while. Honestly can't remember anyone moving in those first ten years. But y'know, now that I think of it, someone did move in about five years ago. Yeah, I remember a little about her now. More mature woman, no husband, no kids... the kids around here call her Old Lady McFadden."
"Really?" Suzie arched her brows, having caught all of her breath. "What else do you know about her?"
"To be honest, hardly a thing. Actually, when she moved in, she struck a lot of us as a bit of a curmudgeon. Didn't seem interested in participating in our neighborhood events, attending gatherings, holidays, any of that."
"Oh, that's a shame," assessed Suzie, lowering her brows from an arch to a furrow. "Wonder why?"
"Who can say," shrugged Bennett. "The house got some attention on Halloween nights, though. Kids dared each other to go."
Suzie looked in the direction of her old house, 1801 Acorn, compelled to recall. The driveway was particularly long. It led about fifty yards further back, behind 1800—at the end of the court—and 1803. While she still speed-walked the neighborhood now and then, Suzie had no clue how the house now looked. Depending what Miss McFadden had done with it these past years, Suzie supposed she could see how kids (and/or adults) might find it intimidating.
"So no one ever tried to, y'know, visit her or anything?" Suzie asked him. "Just for the sake of it if nothing else?"
"Mm, not to my knowledge," Ben offered, shaking his head. "I guess most of us kinda got this vibe that she didn't want to be bothered. So presuming that was her wish, we wanted to honor it."
Suzie cocked her head to a side, trying to process this. She found herself having trouble getting said head around it. Maybe it was just her nature, but...Suzie Sutphin
loved
having company. She invited her loved ones over every chance she got. Hosting such get-togethers was one of the great joys of her life. It stood to reason that she'd have trouble seeing things in terms of how they affected other folks; this was, after all, human nature. And yet, even so...
"Suzie?... Suze?"
The young woman's mind returned.
"Wh—...what?"
"I said you look like you've got something on your mind," said Bennett. "Do you?"
A shrug. "
Oh
. Well..." Suzie chortled. "Are there ever times when a person truly doesn't have a thing on her mind?"
A nod. "Fair point."
"Well, to be honest with ya, Ben... my new place with the folks was lovely. So's my apartment. I've liked every place I've lived, although," she sighed pensively... "When I think about my childhood home..." ...and gave another shrug.
"I guess I just miss the old place."