Read Online Within a Man's Heart by Tom Winton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tom Winton
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parking lot, Wally patted me on the back saying, “Now Chris, if you have any problems with the place, any at all, just give me a call. I’ll help you out.”
I couldn’t believe his kind gesture. Yet, on the other hand, I could. He was a prince. Who on earth sells a home to somebody then offers to give them help after the fact? Everybody else just takes the money and runs, but not Wally Elkin. I might not have known him very long, but I damn well knew he meant what he said. And I felt privileged to have crossed paths with him.
During the days before the closing and for two weeks after, I didn’t seen Gina once. Did I think about her? Yes. As much as I tried not to, I sometimes couldn’t help myself. Busy as I was setting up my new place the way I wanted it, there still were times when her evocative face and all the rest of her entered my mind. Nevertheless, the first couple of times I drove into the village I was able to muster up enough fortitude not to glance into the parking lot alongside Bobby Bard’s general store. Both times, while gassing up the Volvo at the convenience store across the street, I wouldn’t allow my eyes to leave the old gas pump’s rolling “sale” display. But after that I weakened. No longer could I keep myself from glancing into the dirt lot whenever I drove into the village. Twice her truck was parked there. And both times it really bothered me.
As soon as I moved into my new home, I fell in love with it. Every morning I woke up earlier than I ever had before. Every night I found myself hitting the hay soon after daylight gave in to darkness. And boy , did I sleep soundly. With the bedroom windows wide open, I would lay there for just a short while after saying goodnight to Elyse, and I’d listen. No longer did I hear the constant racket I’d put up with in the city. There were no honking horns. Virtually nobody drove by on Elkin Road. I no longer became incensed by noisy neighbors or loud music coming from the other side of rented walls. I didn’t hear a single siren or any decelerating jetliners. No, there was none of that. Instead I fell asleep each night to a soothing chorus of male crickets outside my window screens. Sometimes, as their incessant chirps travelled the darkness in search of prospective mates, I’d hear something else back in the woods, the calming, mysterious hoo-hoo hoooooo hoo-hoo of a great horned owl.
I’d had a few reservations about living alone in the woods at first , but at the same time, felt lucky as well. Knowing my only neighbors within three miles were the owl and the unseen critters in the forest, allowed me a feeling of deep contentment I’d never felt before.
By the end of the second week , I had everything set up just the way I wanted, and it was time to deal with my furniture. All of it was still sitting in a truck back in Jersey or wherever the movers stored it. It was costing me more money every day. So one afternoon I took a ride into the village to talk to Luella Anders at her “Used Everything Store.”
When I stepped inside , she well remembered me from the party, and in no time at all, we worked out a deal to sell my furniture on consignment. She didn’t have enough space for all of it inside the store but said she had an old, two-car garage out back. Until more space became available, she’d store the rest of it there. I called the mover on my cell right then and set up a delivery date. They agreed to bring everything to Luella’s and, after unloading the bulk of it, they’d bring my bed and the few other things I wanted over to my place.
Once all that business was squared away, I walked next door to the village’s tiny public library. Had I known I was going to find far more than books in there, I would have jumped right back into my SUV and bee-lined it for home.
But I didn’t know, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day so I stopped for a moment on the sidewalk in front of the library. The sun was in its full glory,
I couldn’t believe his kind gesture. Yet, on the other hand, I could. He was a prince. Who on earth sells a home to somebody then offers to give them help after the fact? Everybody else just takes the money and runs, but not Wally Elkin. I might not have known him very long, but I damn well knew he meant what he said. And I felt privileged to have crossed paths with him.
During the days before the closing and for two weeks after, I didn’t seen Gina once. Did I think about her? Yes. As much as I tried not to, I sometimes couldn’t help myself. Busy as I was setting up my new place the way I wanted it, there still were times when her evocative face and all the rest of her entered my mind. Nevertheless, the first couple of times I drove into the village I was able to muster up enough fortitude not to glance into the parking lot alongside Bobby Bard’s general store. Both times, while gassing up the Volvo at the convenience store across the street, I wouldn’t allow my eyes to leave the old gas pump’s rolling “sale” display. But after that I weakened. No longer could I keep myself from glancing into the dirt lot whenever I drove into the village. Twice her truck was parked there. And both times it really bothered me.
As soon as I moved into my new home, I fell in love with it. Every morning I woke up earlier than I ever had before. Every night I found myself hitting the hay soon after daylight gave in to darkness. And boy , did I sleep soundly. With the bedroom windows wide open, I would lay there for just a short while after saying goodnight to Elyse, and I’d listen. No longer did I hear the constant racket I’d put up with in the city. There were no honking horns. Virtually nobody drove by on Elkin Road. I no longer became incensed by noisy neighbors or loud music coming from the other side of rented walls. I didn’t hear a single siren or any decelerating jetliners. No, there was none of that. Instead I fell asleep each night to a soothing chorus of male crickets outside my window screens. Sometimes, as their incessant chirps travelled the darkness in search of prospective mates, I’d hear something else back in the woods, the calming, mysterious hoo-hoo hoooooo hoo-hoo of a great horned owl.
I’d had a few reservations about living alone in the woods at first , but at the same time, felt lucky as well. Knowing my only neighbors within three miles were the owl and the unseen critters in the forest, allowed me a feeling of deep contentment I’d never felt before.
By the end of the second week , I had everything set up just the way I wanted, and it was time to deal with my furniture. All of it was still sitting in a truck back in Jersey or wherever the movers stored it. It was costing me more money every day. So one afternoon I took a ride into the village to talk to Luella Anders at her “Used Everything Store.”
When I stepped inside , she well remembered me from the party, and in no time at all, we worked out a deal to sell my furniture on consignment. She didn’t have enough space for all of it inside the store but said she had an old, two-car garage out back. Until more space became available, she’d store the rest of it there. I called the mover on my cell right then and set up a delivery date. They agreed to bring everything to Luella’s and, after unloading the bulk of it, they’d bring my bed and the few other things I wanted over to my place.
Once all that business was squared away, I walked next door to the village’s tiny public library. Had I known I was going to find far more than books in there, I would have jumped right back into my SUV and bee-lined it for home.
But I didn’t know, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day so I stopped for a moment on the sidewalk in front of the library. The sun was in its full glory,
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