It Begins

                     

The rural Connecticut RV park sits about an hour by train from New York City, nestled among rolling mountains blanketed in a variety of tree species. Scarlett can only identify the maples and pines, but she doesn’t mind her limited knowledge—there’s something peaceful about simply admiring beauty without needing to name every part of it. The maples have begun their transformation, their leaves deepening into shades of reddish-orange that seem to glow from within. The early October air carries a cool, crisp freshness that fills her lungs and clears her mind.

 

A warm amber light bathes Scarlett, tinting strands of her hair with gold and adding a subtle glimmer to her marbled blue-green eyes. She tilts her face toward the setting sun, which hovers just above the mountain ridge, and lets its fading warmth settle over her skin. The New England autumn breeze cools her cheeks. There’s a quiet contentment in this contrast, the push and pull of warmth and chill mirroring the changing season itself.

 

A smile spreads across her fair-skinned face, unhurried and genuine. She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of pine and drying leaves. Autumn has always been her favorite season, she thinks—the crisp air, the changing colors, the sense that the world is settling into something slower and more reflective. And beyond the mountains, beyond this quiet moment, New York city awaits with all its noise and possibility. She can already picture the crowded streets, the energy, the endless things to do and see. For now, though, she lets herself linger here, savoring the stillness before the adventure begins.

    Scarlett sends Oliver a text: “Hey Oliver, I have arrived in Connecticut and will have some time next week or weekend to spend with you.”

 

He responds, “Howdy, lovely lady, I will make arrangements to visit NYC Friday thru Sunday. We can get coffee Friday morning—how does that sound?”

 

“Sounds great, I look forward to seeing you again,” Scarlett replies. “Talk to you later, Handsome.”

 

She sets the phone down and lets a smile linger on her lips longer than she intends. Sitting on her brown leather couch, Scarlett glances around her RV and flips her hair, suddenly aware of how quiet everything has become. No task to perform. No busy agenda. The world seems to have come to a standstill, and a deafening silence fills her pink-tinted ears. A sorrow surfaces in her chest, as if being alone no longer fits the way it used to. She used to treasure this kind of stillness, the freedom of empty hours stretching before her, but now the silence feels less like peace and more like absence.

 

She reaches for a pastel pink notepad, hoping that writing might settle the restlessness building inside her. The blank page stares back, but instead of words, an image forms in her mind—a companion with a wagging tail, something small enough to ride the train with her from town to town. Perhaps a mini schnauzer, she muses, picturing its scruffy little face pressed against a train window. The image makes her smile again, softer this time, more genuine than the smile she wore earlier that day.

I can get him a little plaid vest to wear when it gets cold.

Scarlett, imagines the fabric between her fingers. Maybe even boots for the snow. She pictures tiny paws navigating dirt trails, covered in dry autumn leaves, and icy sidewalks slick with winter’s first frost. In her mind, she hears the soft click of claws on hardwood floors, feels the presence of a small body curling against her at night. A warmth spreads through her chest, chasing away some of the earlier ache, and for a moment, the loneliness that has followed her from city to city seems almost bearable. She sets the notepad down, unwritten, and lets herself linger in the daydream a little longer.

Scarlett scrolls through ads on her silver phone, its pink case a small declaration of her femininity. She pauses at one listing, then another, her brow furrowing slightly as she weighs each option. There’s a poodle mix with soulful eyes, a terrier described as “energetic and loving,” a senior dog needing a quiet home. Each possibility carries its own small weight of promise and doubt. On a sheet of blue lined paper, she jots down a note: grooming? Will he require grooming?

 

The question lingers in her mind longer than she expects. She taps her pen against the paper, considering the responsibility she’s about to take on, a flicker of nervous anticipation stirring beneath her careful, methodical exterior. It’s been years since she’s cared for anything beyond herself—her plants, maybe, and even those she’s killed more than once through neglect or overzealous watering. A dog is different. A dog needs constancy, presence, the kind of steady attention she isn’t sure she still has in her. But then she pictures it anyway: the little dog resting beside her on nights like this one, when the RV feels too big and too quiet for one person, when the hum of the refrigerator and the tick of the cooling engine are the only sounds keeping her company.

Her phone chimes, cutting through the quiet. She looks down, and her heart does a small, unexpected flip.

Oliver replies. “Talk to you soon, Gorgeous!”

She stares at the words a moment too long, feeling something warm and unfamiliar bloom in her chest, before she sets the phone face-down on the table, as if that might keep the feeling from spreading any further.

 

A few days later

  Scarlett cruises down a winding road that curves left and right, then takes a right onto a long dirt road. Dust rises behind her tires as gravel crunches beneath them, and the rhythmic sound settles her nerves, if only slightly. She stops her blue Super Duty truck and rechecks the address, comparing it with her GPS, her fingers tapping impatiently against the screen while her stomach tightens with anticipation. This is the place—it has to be. Satisfied, she turns left onto a paved road lined with numerous colonial-style homes, their yards meeting closely together like old friends leaning in to share a secret. Each house seems to hold its own quiet history.  She parks in front of a gray stone house with light blue vinyl siding, its porch adorned in the full spirit of Autumn. Pumpkins of varying sizes cluster near the steps, their orange skins glowing warmly against bundles of golden cornstalks tied with burlap ribbon. A wreath of red maple leaves and dried wheat hangs on the front door, and small string lights, though unlit in the daylight, wind through the porch railing like a promise of cozy evenings to come. Scarlett takes a deep breath, taking in the crisp autumn air scented with faint traces of cinnamon and wood smoke drifting from a neighboring chimney, before approaching the house.

Scarlett carefully lifts her feet up each white wooden step. Her tall brown leather boots press lightly against the wood, drawing out a soft creak with every step, as if the house itself is announcing her arrival. Her boots thud quietly across the front porch as she approaches the white door, her heart beating a little faster with anticipation. She pushes the doorbell and listens to the chime echo inside, imagining the excitement that might be stirring beyond the door.

 

The door opens, and a short, brown-haired woman with green eyes peeks her head out, her expression warm but cautious. “Hi, are you Scarlett?”

 

“Yes, ma’am, I am. You must be Mary,” Scarlett replies, her voice spilling with a rich Texas twang that seems to put the woman instantly at ease.

 

The woman smiles, relief washing over her features. “Great, yes. I’ll be right back. I’m going to bring him out to you.” Mary closes the door behind her, and Scarlett shifts her weight, glancing around the porch, taking in small details—a potted fern, a welcome mat slightly worn at the edges. A few moments pass before the door opens again.

 

Mary holds a gray-haired dog with soft, coffee-brown eyes that look Scarlett over, assessing her from head to toe, as if reading her personality and sensing her energy. His tail wags tentatively at first, then with growing enthusiasm, as though he senses something familiar and good in her presence. Mary gently transfers him into Scarlett’s arms, and he settles there almost immediately, sniffing her curiously before licking her cheek and wagging his gray tail with unrestrained joy. Scarlett laughs softly, her eyes glistening with unexpected emotion as she cradles him closer, feeling an instant, undeniable bond forming between them.

 

Minutes later, Scarlett is back in her roaring truck, cruising down the winding, curving road framed by tall pine trees that blur past the windows. She glances over at her new friend in the front seat, a gray Mini Schnauzer sitting upright, watching her with curious, trusting eyes. “I will name you Scotty,” she says, her voice kind with affection. “And we will go to the store so I can buy you a blue plaid vest and a green plaid vest. What do you think of that, Scotty?” Scotty raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, as if trying to understand what Scarlett just said, and she can’t help but smile, feeling as though she’s found exactly what she didn’t know she was missing.

  When Scarlett returns home, she posts on social media with a picture of him, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement as she types out the caption. He is two years old, neutered, house trained, and has great manners. The family was moving and could no longer keep him, a fact that tugs gently at her heart even as it fills her with gratitude for the timing. He takes to his new name quickly, and Scarlett finds herself smiling every time he responds to it, his ears perking up with an eagerness that melts her. He is very sweet, following her from room to room as though afraid to let her out of his sight. I think he really likes me, she thinks, a warmth spreading through her chest at the idea of being chosen by him just as much as she has chosen him.

 

A flow of followers begins responding to the post, their comments popping up one after another. Some chime in with “keep him active or he will be disruptive!” Scarlett pauses at this, recalling her research of dog temperaments and reassuring herself that he will be a good fit, that she has prepared enough to give him the life he deserves. She replies to the post with, “He is two and well trained. He loves me already!” She adds a small heart emoji before setting her phone down, feeling a quiet pride in the life she is building.

 

Scarlett sends a message to Oliver, unable to resist sharing the news with him too: “Do you like dogs?”

 

Oliver responds a few minutes later, his reply bringing an unexpected flutter to her stomach: “Howdy, Scarlett, actually I love animals. I eventually want a farm. Why do you ask?”

 

Scarlett responds, her thumbs moving quickly across the screen as though the words simply spill out of her, “I want a farm too. That’s great. I decided to get a dog that I can take on the train. This is Scotty.” Scarlett sends a picture of Scotty, then one of her and Scotty together. The picture features Scarlett and Scotty together in a vibrant fall foliage backdrop.  Red and orange leaved maple trees, and a white vertical fence; the scene almost painted in its beauty. Scarlett cradles Scotty in her arms, his small body relaxed against her, while she sports a cozy purple sweater, blue jeans, and tall brown boots. Her reddish-brown curls rest tightly below her shoulders, catching the golden autumn light in a way that makes the whole image feel like a quiet promise of new beginnings.

Oliver responds with, “Aww he’s adorable and you look great. Is he coming to coffee on Friday? How is the weather over there, it’s nice and cool isn’t it?”

 

Scarlett types back quickly, “Oh, thank you. He might join us for coffee. The weather here is so refreshing compared to Texas—I could get used to this. Thank you for asking, though.”

 

A moment later, Oliver sends Scarlett a photo of himself, taken the night they first met. He’s wearing the blue suit with a beige cowboy hat and brown boots, that easy grin still on his face. His red mustache and beard frame his kissable lips, and his white, spotless teeth flash in a grin that seems to light up his whole face. Something about the way he tilts his head makes him look both confident and approachable, as though he’s perpetually on the verge of sharing a joke only he knows. The hat sits at a slight tilt, as though he’d settled it there without much thought, giving him an air of easy nonchalance that feels entirely unstudied. His boots, by contrast, carry the neat look of something cared for and kept for show, hinting at a man who takes quiet pride in his appearance even when he pretends not to. His grin doesn’t seem forced or performative; it’s the kind of expression that comes naturally to someone comfortable in his own skin, someone who has long since made peace with who he is. There’s a warmth in his eyes that suggests patience, maybe even kindness, the sort that draws people in without them quite knowing why. He carries himself like a man who has weathered plenty but still finds reasons to laugh, and that quiet resilience only adds to his charm.

His eyes, deep and soulful, are a striking hazel, shades of green and brown swirling together like whiskey caught in candlelight, flecked here and there with hints of emerald. Like his smile, they seem unhurried and genuine, yet enigmatic, as though he carries a quiet confidence he never needs to prove.

 

Scarlett lingers on the photo longer than she means to, her thumb hovering over the screen as if touching it might somehow bring her closer to that night. She remembers the noise of the bar fading into the background the moment he walked in. She pretended not to notice, and looking at him now, frozen in that easy stance, she feels the same pull all over again, that quiet gravity he seems to carry wherever he goes. A small ache blooms in her chest, equal parts longing and warmth, and she wonders if he remembers that night as vividly as she does, or if it lives more sharply in her memory because of everything that’s happened since.

 

She smiles at her phone, a small flutter of nostalgia rising as she studies the image. “I like your look, darlin,” she replies, “it suits you. And me, apparently, since I can’t stop staring at it.”

 

Oliver laughs to himself before typing his response, imagining her expression as she reads it. “Wonderful, gorgeous. Keep me in mind until I see you in a few days.” There’s a sense of hope in his words, a quiet anticipation he doesn’t bother hiding.

 

Scarlett reads the message, she types back, “Alright, Hun, have a good night.” After a brief pause, she scoops up Scotty. His grey tail wags furiously, and his warm body presses against her chest, his ribs expanding with each eager breath. She buries her face in his fur, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of him, and for a moment, the weight in her chest eases. Her new companion gazes up at her with complete love, his dark coffee colored eyes shining with a devotion that asks for nothing in return. She smiles despite herself, feeling something in her soften. It occurs to her that perhaps she isn’t as alone as she thought.

  Scarlett messages her friends, “Hey y’all, I met a good-looking fella a few weeks ago in Denver. He’s from Texas and likes to travel. He’s an architect and is coming to visit this weekend. Here’s a pic of him.” She adds a laughing emoji, still giddy from the memory of their chance meeting at a hotel bar.

 

Scarlett has an abundance of acquaintances, but only a handful of close, long-term friends she’s kept since childhood. She met Lacey in kindergarten, back when they bonded over a shared love of glitter glue and stubbornness. Third grade brought Alexis and Lily into her life, an inseparable trio by the time they hit middle school. Iris joined the fold in sixth grade, quiet and steady, the one who always seemed to know the right thing to say. Then came Gabriel, her best gay guy friend from college, who added humor and honesty to the group in equal measure. Life has pulled them in different directions over the years, through breakups, moves, and career changes, but the five of them have always found their way back to each other.

 

Lily responds first, always quick with her phone, “Oh he is handsome, what part is he from?”

 

Lacey chimes in next, her excitement evident even through text, “Oh, how neat, good for you!”

 

Alexis, never one to hold back, adds, “Yes, he is a looker, so he must really be into you to go all the way to NYC to visit! Awesome, good for you!”

 

Iris, softer and more sincere, follows with, “Good for you, Hun, you deserve a good man who can travel with you.”

 

Gabriel, ever the wit, can’t resist teasing, “So he is not gay? Does he have a gay brother or cousin?” His message is punctuated with a string of laughing emoji’s, and Scarlett can practically hear his voice in her head.

 

Scarlett laughs out loud at her phone before typing back, “Lily, he is from the outskirts of SA, over there in Bandera.”

 

Lily replies, a hint of nostalgia in her words, “Oh, you like going over there, okay, I hope it works out, darlin.”

 

Scarlett grins as she types to Gabriel, “I will ask him if he has any gay relatives, lol, just for you, love!”

 

Turning her attention to the others, she adds, “Thanks, y’all, I appreciate the support! I’m going to hit the hay, it’s been a long day. When can y’all come for a visit? Next weekend we can hit the dancehalls and go to the country bars and what not!” The thought of having her closest friends together again fills her with a warmth she hasn’t felt in a while.

 

Gabriel, always the planner, jumps in immediately, “I’m in, let’s rent a suite at the plaza and bar hop, what do y’all think?” He’s already imagining the group photos they’ll take, the laughter that will inevitably follow too many cocktails.

 

Lacey hesitates, ever the dutiful wife, “I’ll talk it over with the hubby.”

 

Lily sighs as she types, torn between her love for her friends and her responsibilities at home, “I would love to, but the kids have games and dance.”

 

Alexis, single and spontaneous, doesn’t need to think twice, “I’m in, yes, I agree with the plaza suite.”

 

Iris frowns at her phone, disappointment creeping into her message, “I have work, maybe another weekend, dear!”

 

A few minutes pass before Lacey returns with good news, relief evident in her tone, “The hubby is fine with a weekend away, he will stay with the kids. Yes, plaza suite, how many ways are we splitting that, four? Okay, I can do that. I’m going to schedule my flight for next Friday evening. This is going to be awesome!!!”

 

Alexis follows suit, already picturing the trip in her mind, “I made my flight reservation for Friday evening as well. Lacey, do you want to carpool to the airport or share a ride? Gabriel, are you making the plaza reservation? I can send you my part from the cash app.”

 

Moments later, a notification pops up: “Iris and Lily left the group conversation.” Scarlett feels a small pang of guilt, knowing her friends wish they could join, but she understands the pull of family obligations all too well.

 

Gabriel, unbothered and efficient as ever, continues, “Ladies, I have booked a weekend two-room suite and my flight for next weekend. Alexis, you can send it to my app, that is fine, twelve hundred per person. Ladies, we will have a blast.” He can already picture the group dancing the night away, boots on and inhibitions gone.

 

Lacey chimes back in, exhaustion creeping into her words, “Gabriel, I will send my part to your app as well. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll check back in a few days.”

 

Scarlett, buzzing with anticipation, adds her final thoughts before bed, “Gabriel, great idea, I’ll send my part through Messenger, this is going to be so much fun!!!! I’ll talk to y’all soon.”

 

“Night!” says Gabriel, already dreaming of the weekend ahead.

 

“Goodnight, y’all,” says Alexis, smiling at her screen.

 

Lacey types one last message before setting her phone aside, “Goodnight, everyone!”

With the group message finished, Scarlett leans back and lets herself feel the excitement building in her chest. So much lies ahead now: a grey-furred dog waiting to become part of her life, a new man whose presence still makes her stomach flutter, a northeastern adventure calling her toward unfamiliar roads, and precious time with old friends whose laughter she has missed more than she realized. Each possibility feels like a thread pulling her forward, weaving together into something she can’t quite name yet but knows she wants. This new adventure begins, and as usual, Scarlett feels ready for whatever comes next.