Somewhere Only We Know

Bright sunlight baked the back of Jenna’s neck as she read the letter for what must have been the tenth time, wrestling with the moral dilemma it presented. A decent person would write back, explaining to this Matt person that his letter had reached the wrong person. It was obvious to Jenna that the woman the letter was meant for had used the long-distance thing as a way out of what must have been a dying relationship…to her, anyway. The way Matt talked, it sounded like he was convinced they were soulmates. It broke Jenna’s heart to think what it would be like to find out someone she loved had moved away while she wasn’t around to stop them.

What would I want if the roles were reversed? Jenna thought, sitting down on the delicate, white bench in the corner of the garden. It was her favorite place to be within the garden – the bench was right next to the largest of the rose bushes and the sound of the trickling creek was audible just beyond the fence. The woods that surrounded her house provided a small amount of protection from the intense summer sun.

As she sat there, clutching the dust-stained letter in her hands, Jenna considered the events that had led to her having the letter at all. If she was more outspoken, she’d be somewhere else entirely. As it was, she had intended to get a house in the tiny town that she now lived 15 miles outside of. She’d been in the town’s single real estate office, listening to the ancient owner talk about the history of the town, when a random woman approached her.

“Are you looking to live around her?” she had asked.

“Hoping to, yes,” Jenna had answered.

The woman smiled winningly, brushed some of her brilliantly red hair out of her face, then said, “My name’s Jane. I live just outside town and I’m actually trying to sell my house.”

Jenna had looked down as she said, “I don’t think I could afford to buy a house. I was leaning more toward a rental.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” Jane had said, “but, the thing is, I’m in a hurry to get out of town and I’m letting it go for dirt-cheap.”

“Oh.”

“And it’s totally adorable. You’d just love it. I can take you to see it if you want.”

“Um…” Jenna had wanted to say no, but Jane seemed so insistent and eager that she just couldn’t bring herself to it. Instead, what came out of her mouth was, “Sure. I’d love to see it.”

And that had always been Jenna’s big problem – she just couldn’t stand to disappoint people. So she had found herself stuffed into a tiny car and driven 15 miles outside of town. The right side of the road was lined with a low, stone wall and a sidewalk so old that grass was growing up between the cracks. When they pulled up to the house itself, Jenna was amazed – it was the most adorable little house she’d seen.

It was small and made of white stone, with vines of ivy growing up the sides and down from the eaves. The teal-colored door was in the exact center of the front of the house and there was a teal-framed window on either side. There was a chimney sticking out of the faded roof tiles and a brick front walk with a short, teal gate where it met the sidewalk. The house was tucked into the woods around it and the entire front lawn was overgrown with green shrubs and hedges.

Jane had parked on the side of the road, gotten out of the car, and pointed away from the house. “Isn’t the view great?”

“Wow,” Jenna had breathed, looking out at the view. It was nothing but fields and, in the distance, she could see the town nestled in the valley below. “This is amazing.”

The rest of the tour hadn’t been quite as stunning. The inside of the house was very plain – white walls and worn hardwood floors in every room. The front door opened into the kitchen/living room, with a wall to the right. Behind the wall were two small bedrooms with a teensy bathroom in-between. But Jenna loved it nonetheless and, within an hour, her name was on the deed.

And here she was, a week later, with this letter on her lap. She knew she should write back and explain everything, but part of her couldn’t stand the idea of some poor man out in the Middle East, sleeping in a tent without anything familiar for comfort, his life on the line every second, having to be told that the woman he loved didn’t want to be with him anymore.

Coming to a decision, Jenna stood up, wiped the sweat from her brow, and marched into the house. She retrieved a pad and pen from the bedroom she used as an office, then sat down at her desk. From this seat, she could see the road and the town in the distance. She stared at them for a moment, then began to write.