Abbie is miserable and she doesnât even know it until one night she turns left instead of right and just keeps going. This one small decision changes everything. It leads her to find pieces of herself that she didnât even know were missing, and healing for things she never understood. She is brave enough to take a chance on starting over. Not everyone understands her choices, she has almost no one in her corner and she is battling an eating disorder. A series of bizarre coincidences lead her to a life she didnât think she could ever have, but when that life begins to fall apart will she be strong enough to withstand the loss and not give in to her old nemesis?
Abbie is miserable and she doesnât even know it until one night she turns left instead of right and just keeps going. This one small decision changes everything. It leads her to find pieces of herself that she didnât even know were missing, and healing for things she never understood. She is brave enough to take a chance on starting over. Not everyone understands her choices, she has almost no one in her corner and she is battling an eating disorder. A series of bizarre coincidences lead her to a life she didnât think she could ever have, but when that life begins to fall apart will she be strong enough to withstand the loss and not give in to her old nemesis?
Donât Have to Go Home, But You Canât Stay Here!
âGo home!â she said. Two words. It is incredible how much pain two words can hold. Thank God they werenât long words, or the pain might have killed me.
I want to say, âI donât have one.â She would roll her eyes and call me a liar. In the sense that she means, I do have one. I have a place to go, but to me, it is not home, and it never will be. So I place my tongue firmly between my teeth and nod, fighting to hold in the tears until I can reach my car. I grab my jacket, throw it over my arm, and balance the last load of laundry on my hip as I walk out into the cold, dark night. I am leaving, but Iâm not going to the âhomeâ she means, not tonight. Tonight I canât. Tonight I wonât. Tonight I want to feel warm and safe.
I get into my Miata, and at the end of the driveway, I have a choice to make, right goes towards the house, left goes someplace else. I go left, and I smile for the first time in what feels like forever, I am free.
The tank was full, and I drove all night, turning when it felt right to make a turn. Around dawn, I pulled into a little hole in the wall diner for breakfast. The building looked ready for a wrecking ball, but the parking lot was full. My daddy always said to look for a dump with a parking lot jammed with cars, and youâll find good food. It almost always works.
I ordered coffee, a veggie omelet, and home fries and hoped for the best. The coffee wasnât good, but it wasnât terrible, either. I sipped the coffee and pulled up the maps on my phone to see where I was. There were twenty-seven missed calls on my phone. I ignored them. The map wouldnât load, no GPS signal. That made me smile. I had found the middle of nowhere.
The food was good, extremely good. I filled up the tank and kept driving. I wasnât tired. I couldnât wait to get to wherever it was I was going.
Around four, I felt it. I drove into a small town, and I was home, just like that. It was a quaint little town, my town. I rolled down the window and smelled the sea and smiled. The sense of belonging was so strong, and I didnât even know the name of the place.
I continued taking seemingly random turns until I ended up in front of the cutest little brick bungalow I had ever seen. There were two palmettos in the yard and dozens of azaleas. I wondered what color they would be when they bloomed. The front door was oak with iron hinges and a heavy iron knocker. It was arched. My soul felt such peace sitting out in front of it. Then I saw the best part of all, the âFor Saleâ sign.
I looked at my phone, fifty-two missed calls and one hundred twenty-seven text messages. No one wanted me around until I leftâtheir loss. I called the number on the sign.
âYes, Iâm calling about 127 Orange Street. I was wondering if I could make an appointment to look at it.â
âI would be happy to set that up for you. When would you be available?â
âAny time tomorrow.â âOr any day, reallyâŠ...,â I thought.
âI will call the owners and set that up right now. Can I call you back at this number?â
âYes, thatâs fine. And is there a bed and breakfast or hotel here in town that you could recommend?â
She gave me the names of two B&Bâs and gave me the name of a restaurant for dinner. I thanked her and called the first number. They had a room available for the week, and it was close by, so I told the lady that I would be there later to check-in. First, I needed food and a suitcase. It wouldnât do to check into a B&B with a laundry basket for luggage.
I found the bar and grill that the agent had suggested. It was harborside and walking distance from âmy houseâ. It also had some of the best fried shrimp I had ever tasted.
After one of the best seafood platters I had ever eaten,I headed to the supercenter for a suitcase and toiletries. I packed my bag in the parking lot and headed back to the B&B. I had an appointment to see my house at ten the next morning.
I had never touched the money my dad had left me, not a single penny. It had never felt right, but I would now. I was going to buy that house tomorrow and start over here from scratch. I felt so ridiculously happy and free. I didnât realize how miserable I had been until now.
The B&B was beautiful, and the owners were charming. They were an older couple and very gracious. I sat on the porch sipping wine with them until nearly midnight.
I woke up to the aroma of coffee and bacon beckoning me. I showered and dressed quickly before joining my hosts on the screened porch for breakfast. The food was spectacular and plentiful. The bacon was thick and chewy, just like I like it, a made to order veggie omelet, home fries, and biscuits. And there were blueberry muffins.
âThat was the best breakfast I think I have ever had," I sighed.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," Mrs. Helms said as she cleared the dishes. âWill you be back for lunch?â
"No, maâam, I am going to look at a house at ten, and I plan to make an offer, so I should be tied up for a while. Iâll just grab something, but I will be back for dinner."
âWhere is the house?â she asked.
âItâs not far from here. Itâs on Orange Street, a brick bungalowâŠ.â
"That's why you look so familiar! Are you Martha's granddaughter, wait, no. It would be her great-granddaughter?"
I stared at her for a few moments. "Martha who?â
"Martha Lewis, Ben, and Martha. They built that house. You are the spittinâ image of her when she was young."
"I don't know much about my dad's family. He died when I was little. I lived in Indiana all my life. I do have an uncle I can ask." I took a long drink of my coffee. âI couldn't possibly have just randomly found my dad's family home, could I?â
"I don't know darlin'. What was your daddy's name?"
âDavid.â
"What was his daddy's name?â
âDavid, too.â
"Ben and Martha had a David. He died in Vietnam."
I just nodded at her.
"You didn't know they were from here?" she asked.
"I knew they were from the Carolinas, but not where in the Carolinas. I guess I need to call my uncle."
"I have pictures of them somewhere.â
"Of who?" I asked.
"Ben and Martha and probably the kids too. We lived next door to them for thirty years. I will look for the pictures today. You can look at them at dinner."
"Please, don't go to any trouble," I said.
"It's no trouble, and I want you to see the pictures of Martha. I can't get over how much you look like her."
"Thank you. I guess I need to get ready to see the house. Does someone in the family still own it?"
"No, a young couple from Columbia bought it several years ago. They had planned to remodel it, but they didn't stay very long. It has been empty for at least a year."
"I can't wait to see it," I said.
I ran up to my room to grab my purse and freshen up. Then I called the bank to let them know what I was planning, and I had them fax a pre-approval letter to the real estate agent's office. If this house really was my family home, I wanted it even more badly than before. It was still only a little after nine, so I called my uncle.
"Hello, Abbie."
"Hey, Uncle Karl."
"Do you have any idea how upset your mother is?â
In all the excitement, I had forgotten about my disappearing act. "She noticed I'm gone, how refreshing."
"Don't be cute, Abbie," he said, laughing. "This disappearing stuff would upset any mother, even yours."
"In a weird way, I just did what she told me to do. She told me to go home, and I ended up in Georgetown, South Carolina."
"You're where?"
"Georgetown. I have an appointment to look at a house on Orange Street in a few minutes, and I'm going to buy it."
"How did you even know about Georgetown? I'm sure your mother doesn't know, and I donât think I ever told you about it."
"No one did. I just got in the car and drove until I ended up on Orange Street in Georgetown, South Carolina, in front of the house that Ben and Martha Lewis lived in with their son David, who died in Vietnam."
"Now, I'm sure I didn't tell you because I didn't even know the street name."
"The owner of the bed-and-breakfast where Iâm staying lived next door to them. She says that I look just like Martha."
"You just blew me away, kiddo. I'm coming down there tomorrow. Get me a room where you are staying and text me the address. Oh, and call your mother before she reports you missing and takes all your money. See you tomorrow."
"Okay, Uncle Karl. See ya tomorrow."
I sent my mother a text, then I went down to make sure the Helms would have a room for Uncle Karl, and I was still twenty minutes early for my appointment. I took some pictures of the house with my phone and sent them to him.
The agent, Gina, came at 9:55 with a big smile on her face. "You have been busy this morning. Your bank called to assure me that you are more than capable of buying this house. So I assume you anticipate making an offer?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do.
"Do you want to walk around outside first, or have you already done that?"
"I've been here for a few minutes, and I have already looked at the yard and the outbuilding. I'm ready to go inside."
"Let's go inside then."
She opened the front door and let me go in first. The stale smell of a long-empty house greeted me, along with that âold house smellâ I love so much. The front door had a small square stained-glass window, with a lighthouse and a seagull. The floors were oak, dirty, but had been redone recently. There was a formal living room to the right. On the left, a dining room with chair rail and built-in corner cabinets with glass doors. Through the dining room was the kitchen. It took my breath away. Nothing had been changed since 1928 when the house had been built, and it was all still in excellent shape.
"The kitchen needs to be gutted, of course," Gina was saying.
"No, I love it. It's perfect," I sighed.
"That would be up to you."
At the back of the house were a walnut-paneled den and a sunroom. The back door led to a screened porch that ran along the entire back of the house.
Upstairs were three large bedrooms and two full baths. As I walked through the house, I seemed to know my way around, and I had the strangest sense of déjà vu. I snapped pictures with my phone to show my uncle. My favorite thing was the fireplace in the master bedroom. It looked as if it had come from an even older house.
"That fireplace looks older than this house."
"Yes, it was saved from the family home of one of the original owners," Gina explained.
"Do you know the names of the original owners? Or where the family home was or is?"
"Yes, there is a packet of information that goes with the house." Then a look of sudden realization crossed her face. "You're a Lewis. Sometimes I am so blond! So sorry, sugar. It didn't occur to me that you are one of those Lewises. You should have told me."
"I wasn'tâŠ.completely aware of it myself until this morning," I said, which earned a raised eyebrow. "I think I'm finished looking. I would like to make an offer." That earned me a big smile.
"Letâs go to my office and see what we can do."
Two hours later, I left the office with a stack of papers, including an accepted offer, a list of calls to make to make sure the lights, water, and gas would not be turned off, and the names of several insurance agents. Gina had agreed to allow my uncle to see the house while he was there and to set up an inspection.
It was nearly two when I arrived at the Wild Fish Grill for a late lunch. I couldn't wait to read the documents that came with the house, but I wouldn't get those until the closing in seven to ten days. I called my uncle to tell him what I had done.
"You couldnât have waited until tomorrow so I could go with you?" he said halfheartedly.
"No, what if someone else had come along and bought it?"
"I don't really think that would've happened, butâŠ..it's too late now. You didn't pay the full asking price, did you?"
"No, I got a deal, Uncle Karl. What time will you be here tomorrow?"
"I should be there by two. Weâll have lunch then look around."
"Sounds good, see you tomorrow."
"Try to stay out of trouble."
"I'm going furniture shopping."
"Didnât I just say to stay out of trouble," he laughed.
"I'm going to antique stores."
"That's even worse," he chuckled. "I think your dad would be proud of you. Getting away.... well, I think it will be good for you."
"Thanks, Uncle Karl. See you soon."
áĄáĄ
After lunch, I walked to a nearby antique store. I saw several things I liked but realized that I needed to measure the rooms before buying any furniture. As I was browsing, I saw a cabinet style mantel clock with a painting of the ship on the glass door on the front. I carefully opened the door, and the scent of wood smoke and old wood tickled my nose. It had a pendulum, weights, and a key to wind it. A label on the back read New Haven Clock Company. My heart raced. If I remembered correctly, that would date the clock to sometime between 1830 and the 1880s. I looked at the tag, $150, and it said it was in working condition. No way was I passing this up. I carefully carried the clock to the register and paid without haggling.
I returned to the B&B with my treasure cradled in my arms. The Helms oohed and ahhed over it. Mr. Helms offered to buy it several times, before finally realizing that it was useless.
âSo, are we celebrating a new neighbor this evening?â
âYes, maâam, we are. The closing will be in seven to ten days, will you have space here for me for that long?â
âYou may have to change rooms once or twice, but Iâm sure we can manage it. We are so glad you found your way here. Dinner will be ready at six-thirty.â
I took the clock upstairs to my room and went for a walk. First down Orange Street to gaze at my house. Then a stroll along the Harborwalk. I felt so at home here. It was almost unbelievable. There were still a lot of details to work out, but I felt sure that it would all fall into place. I was here for a reason.
The next morning, I was up to watch the sunrise on the Harborwalk. Then I sorted through the laundry in my car and made a list of things I either didnât have or would run out of soon.
At breakfast, Mrs. Helms had found the photo albums from the time they were neighbors with my great grandparents. There was a picture of Ben and Martha and their four children taken in front of the house on Orange Street. Mrs. Helms carefully removed it from the album. The date on the side was 1961, and on the back were the names and ages of the children. David was sixteen, and he looked a lot like old pictures of my dad and Uncle Karl.
I handed the picture back, but Mrs. Helms stopped me. âItâs yours. I have plenty of pictures of them. This one should be yours.â
âThank you so much. I feel like Iâm finding a part of myself I didnât even know was missing.â
I took the photo up to my room and propped it up in front of the clock. As I looked at the eerily familiar faces, I wondered what happened to my grandfatherâs brothers and sisters. âMaybe I have family still here,â I thought. I would have to ask the Helms later.
I had so wanted this to be the book for me. The synopsis sounded brilliant, and I am always for a "find yourself" type of a book, but this one fell a bit short of my expectations. The book begins with Abbie falling out with her mother and with Abbie getting into her car and driving overnight. When she pulls up outside a little bungalow she's overwhelmed by the sense of home she feels by this building and the quaint town in which it is situated. To her joy, it's up for sale and seeing as she needs to shake up her life and has a nice pot of money stashed away following her father's death, she buys it without a second thought. Coincidentally this is also the house her great grandparents built generations before her. This then triggers a set of coincidences that change her life forever and for the better in many ways. She meets long lost relatives, reconnects with her dad's brother, dumps her tag-along boyfriend and falls in love with the wonderful Greg.
Now, this all sounds fine and dandy, it's a great synopsis with a seemingly good plot of finding oneself and ones home, gaining control where life seemed previously uncontrollable and so on but this book was filled with random inconsistencies that bothered me. Firstly, the time-travelling clock. I don't necessarily see its purpose for the story. Abbie buys a mantle clock in an antique store that would go perfectly in her house, but it turns out it allows her to see into the past of one of her relatives named Nellie who was involved in spying on the Yankees in South Carolina. This point was so random and it didn't add anything to the story in my opinion. If I found a time-travelling clock, it would be my main focus of the book but instead, it was simply a sideline to the story...Yeah, time travel was overwritten by renovating a back garden and a future business and wasn't a focal point of the story.
A second point I feel was glazed over with too much ease was Abbie's eating disorder. The book introduces this in an okay way, explaining the internalised rules Abbie has for eating around others and the standards she holds herself too, triggered by years of being essentially unloved by her mother and ex-boyfriend Jack. But it's then washed over when we see Abbie seemingly recovering from these rules when she is seen eating around Greg's family, and it not really being mentioned again until towards the end of the book when Greg moves to Columbia. It felt almost dismissive and simply used as an angsty plot point and not a genuine struggle that Abbie has because while a supportive and loving environment will help, it still takes time to get over and with Abbie it seemed instantaneous.
I will say, however, the prologue to this book was enchanting and I'm sad the same beautiful style wasn't carried throughout the book, my personal favourite quote is below:
Sometimes it's a physical place, but most often it seems to be a combination of sould that fit like puzzle pieces. But souls grow and change then one day, the edges no longer line up, and home has moved on without me again. I wish it would take me along when it goes.
Like that is so poetically beautiful! It highlights this authors potential but I don't think this work as a whole is the best. If you're looking a quick hallmark movie kind of a read with a bit of random time travel, then sure, I'd recommend it.
Trigger warnings: parental death, toxic relationship with mother, disordered eating