The Library

Built from stones and layered with moss, our rancher home was cozy and rustic. It was humble in size, yet perfect for our family. You strode in every evening with an effortless smile upon your face, ready to work on yet another dream of mine while I prepared supper and tended to my work.

This time, you focused on the library as you built shelves into the walls, tirelessly marking and measuring for placement and designing the various structures for the room I would undoubtedly spend most of my free time. I could picture it, walls lined with stories ranging from life-altering truths to thought-provoking fictional mysteries, all the way to fantastical tales of princesses and dragons. Scattered among the literary works would be pieces of our collection of mugs we’d accrued over the adventures we’d shared together. By the fireplace, we would set up a record player, loaded with Frank Sinatra and jazz tunes. Situated in the corner would be the cafe, complete with a state of the art espresso machine and a pour-over coffee pot, along with the whole beans with which to brew.

I blinked and suddenly, before me was an irregularly shaped, cream-colored area rug that sprawled across the floor. The shelves were fully built and stocked and lying by the fireplace was our Husky-Labrador mixed dog. You were there in spirit, though I believe physically at work, and I basked in the warmth and memories this room had given us. My shoulders hung loosely from my torso and all of the tension in my body seemed to have dissipated. I was filled with optimism and hope.

As I closed my eyes, I thought nothing of my work and naught about obligations and commitments. I simply reveled in the happiness we had created together in our home. The future, uncertain as it was, felt secure and manageable. I knew we would prosper and lead long, healthy lives here. Somewhere in the distance, the door closed and you sung out my name, announcing your arrival home. Searching the house for me, you called upon me again, twice more.

Black, cold air crashed upon me as my eyes shot open. You laid next to me, prodding me as my alarm rang out. I looked around our bleak studio apartment, with mismatched furniture scattered sparingly about. My ears were uncomfortably close to my shoulders as my muscles were gripped with stress. I glanced over at the desk, stacked with bills and my keys laid carelessly in the corner. I hated this apartment but it was home and it had you.

Turning off my alarm, and cozying up to you, I rested my head on the pillow reeling over the day’s agenda and workload. I wasn’t sure how we would ever survive in this city with our pile of debt and limited resources. You pulled me close and whispered “I love you.” I embraced you, repeated the words and then arose to don my clothes for the day. I wondered what you were thinking of and wished I could go back to the warm, fuzzy dream I’d just been lost in.

As I readied my folders and purse, you sat up in bed and told me you wanted to talk. My stomach sank, a pit of worry and fear. Your voice had a particular edge, though I couldn’t match your tone to any emotion other than trepidation. I gathered my things and sat on the corner of the bed. You told me you loved me but were unhappy here. While I wholly reciprocated the sentiment, I wasn’t sure what to do about it. You told me you had an idea. You wanted me to resign from my job and move to the countryside with you. Eyeing the mixture of torn and unopened bills, I couldn’t fathom reducing our income to one. You assured me the costs would be fractional relative to our current cost of living and you’d been doing extensive research into this. I remained hesitant and unconvinced.

It was never my lifelong dream to be a hospital technician. I’d much rather spend my days with a coffee in hand, laptop at my fingertips, working on my novel. The fact was every dime we had we have had to work hard to receive. I would gladly leave my job if I knew we had financial security but we don’t. While I trust you and you have been clear about our ability to afford a different lifestyle, I’m just not sure we can afford the risk. In fact, I’m positive we can’t.

Insisting that we discuss this later, I headed to work. I spent the day mulling over what it would be like never to set foot back into my job again. Admittedly, it was a lovely thought, but highly unrealistic. I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up in this fantasy you’d created. My phone buzzed and I looked down to see a message from you. It read “Let’s take an adventure this evening for a few hours when you get home.” Knowing I’d be crushing your dreams when I inevitably declined your request for me to quit and relocate, I agreed, hoping the time spent would be a soothing consolation.

Arriving home from work, you stood ready for me, passenger car door open and a fresh, hot coffee in hand for me, along with a container full of beignets, my favorite. I eagerly accepted your gift, but felt a pang of guilt as I hadn’t yet told you my decision. I opened my mouth to start talking but you rushed ahead, asking me to wait to have any discussion regarding our prior conversation until the next day. I begrudgingly agreed and descended into the passenger seat. You revved the engine and soon we were on our way.

When I asked where we were going, you mentioned that you just wanted to enjoy a leisurely drive and explore the surrounding areas. You mentioned a property you wanted to look at and I immediately knew you wanted to go towards the outskirts of town. Dread consumed me, as I knew I stood firm in my choice, even though you wouldn’t yet hear it. However, I was already seated, enjoying my confections and had agreed to come along, so I did not protest.

After zipping through the city, rounding the mountainside and gradually passing into greener and wooded lands, we pulled up to what looked like a shack. It was a cottage made of multi-colored stones. The house was overcome with moss and vines and looked abandoned and run-down. I stepped out of the car and walked towards the property with you. You marveled as if we were standing before a palace. Our apartment was admittedly unappealing, but by comparison, was far more habitable than any part of the cottage I laid my eyes on here. I stared in disbelief, but obliged to walk through the home.

You soon explained that you’d received notice from an attorney the day prior that we had inherited this home. You spoke rapidly and elatedly, sharing that we could fix it up, move out here. You could continue your work, which was remote and transferrable and I could quit and focus on my artwork and writing portfolios. I looked at you, beaming with love and simultaneously sadness. The idea was bittersweet, but ultimately not one that we could afford. As we walked from room to room, I breathed in the musky scent and took in the way the dust had settled and covered every surface. The cottage was furnished a dusty sofa, a small wooden circular table and two chairs, and nothing else. The kitchen was humble and might have once even been beautiful.

My heart skipped a beat and I halted as we entered the next room. Cobwebs hung from every fixture and the light that peaked through highlighted the dirty, dusty surfaces. The walls were plain and the room was largely empty. In the center of the far wall, was a fireplace, crookedly fixated, composed of brick. The room held a familiarity and it took me another moment to recall where I remembered this place. It was hardly recognizable with all the grime and build up, but this was the exact room from the dream I’d woken from this morning. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were processing. How could I have dreamt this place without ever seeing it? It was unmistakably the same brick pattern, albeit dustier. I could see the library from my dream fitting perfectly in the crooks of the walls.

I looked to you and as our eyes met, I embraced you with a resounding “Yes.” There was no way this was coincidence. The dream I’d had was a sign. We could be happy here, with enough time and effort. If it wasn’t the right choice— Well, it had to be the right choice because it was with you. Home is wherever we are together and I could only hope that the dream I’d had was only an enchanting glimpse of the future. You grinned at me, pulled me in for a hug and lifted me off the ground as you planted a kiss on my lips, followed by an “I love you.”

With that, we headed back to the apartment. Already, it felt as though I were leaving home, even though I’d only just set foot today in the cottage. I knew I wouldn’t resign immediately but I felt satisfied knowing that I surely would as soon as we’d made the house inhabitable and ended our lease. You reached for my hand and held it soundly as we drove the whole way home.