Chapter 1

We met at the park at her request. She looked troubled as she walked toward me. She stopped about four feet away. “Evan, it’s over. I’ve met someone new.”

I looked at her a moment. I nodded. Then, I walked away.

It was a long walk back to my car. It was quiet in the park today. I felt numb. At one time, I thought that we had something special though I had known something was wrong for over a month now. Shelia had become abrupt and distant. I didn’t know why nor what I had done or had not done. I really should have talked to her. I was up for a promotion which would include a transfer. It was a big step and I had thought we could work out a new life in Georgia together. Obviously, I no longer would need her input on that decision or for a new life in Georgia.

When I got to my apartment, I sat in my easy chair. I didn’t cry nor feel bitterly toward Sheila. In some ways, I felt relief. Part was that our relationship was over and part was that she ended it. I had few friends left in town. We hadn’t lived together but had stayed on in this, our college town, after we graduated. I went to work while Sheila studied for her master’s degree in education. We started going together in middle school. I only resented the years in college that I wasted trying to be the person who she wanted me to be and who I didn’t like. It would just be me now. I would be someone I liked in the future.

Finally, I shrugged. It was late in the afternoon now and lunch had been an order of fries on the run. Saturday mornings were my exercise time. To eat fries somewhat destroyed the purpose of exercise but I had been in a hurry today. I decided that supper could be something more filling and more healthy. I would make a salad with a little bit of chopped lunch meat but no cheese. As I prepared my light supper, I thought back over the years with Sheila.

It all started in seventh grade when my parents moved. Dad was, by then, a plant manager like I would be. He had been transferred twice while I was in elementary school. I overheard him telling my mother that this would be the last move. I met Sheila on my first day of class. She was pretty and seemed well-liked. I was just the new guy. I played football and ran track. I wasn’t one of those hundred-yard flashers but was a distance runner. I still run to this day though football had ended with high school.

Saturdays were my long days but I tried to get in a mile or two at least every other day. As time went on, Sheila had begun to deride my running. I’m not sure what about it she didn’t like but she was negative about that among other things I did. I never understood that either.

I had graduated with honors though Sheila did not. She derided my business degree as worthless and simple. I had the MBA program try to recruit me but I had a good job offer which I took instead. My parents couldn’t afford any more tuition and I didn’t want a large student loan. That was part of the reason for the grades. Good grades helped in obtaining scholarships and grants. Sheila’s parents, on the other hand, had no problem funding her collegiate education through family wealth. That was another point of contention. Sheila somehow felt that their wealth made her better.

I had tried to figure out my charm to her. I finally came to the conclusion that it was my physique and the fact that I was somewhat endowed. Even that seemed to have lost its charm lately. Our sex life had fallen off along with any thought of intimacy from her.

I decided that my walking away from her without a statement probably kept us civil on our departure. I could imagine the scene if we started arguing in public. She had lit into me a couple of years ago and it was epic. It had been our second break-up. She had come back to me less than a week later.

I decided that I hoped that this third one would be the charm and we would stay apart. I knew that I would make no overtures to her. I was ready to start life in a new place and with new people. Most of “our” friends were really hers. My friends had drifted off not being able to abide her attitude.

On Monday, I accepted the transfer and promotion. I was needed as soon as possible. I went to my apartment, packed, and left. The company would pay my lodging and associated expenses for a month. It would also pay to move my furniture and things once I had a place for them. On Tuesday, I was at work at my new job east of Atlanta. I had given notice on my apartment over the weekend since the lease was up. I would go back in a week to pack for the movers. This week, I would look for a place. I wanted a house and would buy.

I could borrow the down payment against my 401k. I called and verified the amount available and what I would have to do to repay it. I could do all that. With that information and some research on the Internet about mortgages and payments, I knew what I could afford even though I would qualify for more. I also looked at real estate agents online as well as houses listed. An agent who seemed to have a number of houses in my price range was the one I chose. She was an older woman almost the age of my mother. I called and left a message with my cell number Wednesday afternoon.

Susan Cox called back. I explained my circumstances with the move and my plans for housing. She thought she could help me though asked if her daughter could help me initially. I said that would be fine. The daughter would call for a specific time Friday afternoon with some houses to show. I finished my day and took one of my subordinates to dinner to learn about his plans. We were both single so a Thursday supper wasn’t a problem for either of us. I went to my room with information and having had a good meal.

I worked through the day including receiving a call from Morgan Cox, the daughter who worked with her mother, my real estate agent. We would meet at three. A few minutes before three, I left to meet her at the real estate office which was close. I drove over and walked in the door asking for Morgan.

A vision of loveliness walked out and said, “Evan Jones? I’m Morgan Cox.” She was almost my height in her low heels wearing slacks and an attractive blouse. I noticed two other things about her. Her left hand did not have rings on it and she had beautiful red hair in a deep brownish tone. Her hair went well with her blue eyes.

“Miz Cox, I’m Evan Jones. It’s good to meet you.”

“Call me Morgan, Mister Jones. I have my list. Let’s go.” She looked at the receptionist. “Angela, tell my mother I’m showing as planned. We should be two or three hours.”

As we left, I said, “Please call me Evan.” She nodded smiling.

Morgan led me to a smaller-sized SUV. We got in and she said, “I looked at your want list with my mother. It’s a good, practical list. We have selected a group of houses to start. We want to get a better idea of what you do and don’t want within your list of possibilities.” We started out. “The first meets your list and gives a few extras. We aren’t looking at condos so, if we should include those, you will have to tell us.”

Chapter 2 »