Domestic Bliss (Closed)

The architectural firm of Williams, Price, & McKinley was about as old fashioned as you'd find in this day and age. The architects were over 95% male, the secretaries and receptionists almost entirely female, and virtually anyone that had an office had a liquor cart in the corner. Smoke hung in the air above many as they work, the cigarettes stabbing from the corner of their mouth a continual source of new smoke to add to the cloud. All of this was possible through careful management of hiring practices - though they had been forced to pay out a couple of fines in their history as progressive ideals tried to force their way into the firm - and because the quality of their work was always fantastic.

Unsurprisingly, their structures were classic in design, a throw back to the middle of the 20th century.

Christen Larson had been at the firm for nearly two decades now, and in that time had managed to work his way up to partner. His calm demeanor and ability to adjust to new client demands without hesitation or consternation had saved more than one big account, and when it came time for the partners to vote on including him in their number, the approval was quick and unanimous. The raise in salary was substantial, though it seemed to have little effect on the man they simply called Larsen. His suits remained the same - simple, classic, neatly pressed - he didn't go out and buy a fancy new car, and his home address remained the same. To anyone that didn't know, it seemed nothing at all had changed with him.

In many ways, though, he was more mystery to them than anything else. They were aware he had a wife named Samantha, though none had ever met her. The fact of her existence seemed more a slip of the tongue by him than anything else, and one he only made a couple of times in the twenty years he'd been there. None of them were even certain when he'd gotten married, and while he'd taken vacation time, no one could recall time off for a honeymoon.

He also refused to carry a cell phone, or even wear a pager, though the inconvenience of such a thing seemed rather minimal given that the number of calls to his house that went unanswered by him could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Likely, there would be fingers leftover too. He seemed to exist at work or at home, and nowhere in between. He attended company parties, though he was almost always the last to arrive and the first to leave, and no one could recall seeing him eating out, alone or with Samantha, at any restaurant in town. But, at the end of the day, the man got results, and so everything else remained firmly in the realm of curiosity.

Christen himself was aware of much of the gossip. He was a quiet man, generally, but he was also sharp and observant. Little escaped his notice, a face he was more than happy to keep to himself. He saw his work life and his home life as distinct and separate entities, and had no desire to let the two mix together. They each served their purpose, fulfilling him in different but necessary ways.

Still, some had noticed that he seemed a bit distracted, and a couple of secretaries had been surprised to walk into his office and discover him with a cigarette burning between his fingers and his gaze on the window, seemingly a thousand miles away. It was unlike him, and the speculation on what was happening ranged from health problems to a shrug and writing him off as a "weirdo." As expected, he volunteered no information himself.

The presence of a moving van at the house next door, however, offered him something of a distraction from his current worries. The sky was still painted with yellows and reds as the evening sun sank over the horizon, and in his red and white 1956 Ford Fairlane, he sat and watched as movers carried in boxes and furniture. Someone new in the neighborhood was always of interest. It was a quiet area, the houses spaced out nicely so the yards were large and mostly open. His, in contrast to many, had a large privacy fence around it, and it was the gate of this he opened now so he could pull his car into the garage.

Climbing back into the car, a final look was cast at the movers, his new neighbor nowhere to be found for the moment, and then he eased the car through the gate and into the waiting garage. Switching off the car, he lit a cigarette and sat for a moment, his eyes on the rear view mirror. He contemplated the empty driveway behind him, and the arrival of a new family next door, and debated stepping over to say hello.

Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps after he'd seen exactly who they were.

Perhaps Samantha would have seen them when they arrived.

Snuffing out his cigarette in the car's ashtray, he grabbed his briefcase and stepped out of the car, to go find out what she knew.

The last of the movers had finally pulled away from in front of the house, and Sabrina watched as the tail lights on the vans slowly disappeared from view. She stood just inside the doorway, her arm draped behind the open door, holding it to her hip. The rest of her body was braced upright against the frame, her head tilted, temple resting lightly against cool wood - the angle giving her the perfect view of the ever darkening sky.

Nothing had ever looked so beautiful to her; the sight of an uninterrupted sky. It occurred to her in that moment, that this might just become the thing she loved most about her new home. So unlike other places she had lived her whole life, where only patches and teasing flashes of sky could be glimpsed from between towering structures. Places where the sky seemed more like a myth or some long forgotten memory unless you happened to look straight up and remember when you found it hovering above you.

But here, she would have no reason to stretch and crane her neck to peer overhead. No ... here, the sky seemed to lay itself out far and wide just for her. The thought, silly though it may be, brought an unbidden smile to her lips.

She found it amusing that, while her neck and shoulders could for the moment rest easy, it was instead her ears that seemed to strain themselves against the quiet of the evening. It was as though they were searching for the sounds of the city she had left behind. A futile effort if ever there was one, as the hum and thru of the city was now far away. All that drifted towards her was the whispering of wind rustling through leaves, the soft chirping of crickets and the call of evening birds.

There was a palpable ease and unhurried sense of things here in this place; and Sabrina could feel it winding it's way around her and settling into her bones. It was hard to explain, let alone comprehend; that while everything seemed to be moving swiftly along much like in any other places, for some reason life's pace seemed different here. Strange though it may be, Sabrina was convinced that this was exactly the sort of change that she needed in her life.

Her decision to move had in no way been an easy one. Packing up and leaving the only life she had ever really known was never going to be easy. Yet all the same it was necessary. A fact, Sabrina found herself in constant need of reminding. The guilt she felt at leaving what little family she had - though none of them were very close to her - along with her meager handful of friends behind, was always near the surface of her skin. It wasn't that she had been unhappy in her old life - at least not terribly so, if she was being honest - so much as she had felt stuck. Locked into into a series of routines that brought her little joy, which were only broken up by her helping others navigate the chaos of their own lives. Was it truly so wrong or selfish for her to want to look after herself ... or perhaps even find someone willing to look after her for a change? She wasn't exactly sure what it was that she wanted - couldn't articulate it, had anyone bothered to ask. All she did know was that someone me thing was missing; and that what she called life, was a far cry from living. So she had made her escape.

She considered herself lucky for the freedom her job gave her. A Registered Nurse was always needed somewhere, and as such securing a new position had been simple enough - albeit only after five rounds of telephone interviews. Similarly, through the convenience of technology and the assistance of a realty firm that offered virtual services, Sabrina had been able to purchase her new home without having to take time off as she worked out the last days of her notice at her former workplace. The few friends that she had mentioned the process to had called her crazy, but she paid little attention to them. She'd had a picture in her minds eye of where she wanted to live and she hadn't needed to set foot inside the house to know it was for her, seeing it had been enough.

At least so she had thought. As it turned out her excitement and anticipation over moving and starting anew couldn't be contained. Which is why instead of taking a month after her last day on on the job to tie up loose ends and say her goodbyes, she found herself moving in a full three weeks ahead of schedule.

The soft melodic notes of a familiar tune now playing on the radio drew her from her thoughts. There would be plenty of time to contact her new job, get acquainted with her neighbours and learn the lay of the land. For now, she took a final look at the now deep indigo sky before heading inside to focus her attention on the myriad of boxes that needed unpacking.