Sylvan Lane

321 Sylvan Lane

Vanessa left the shabby neighborhood she had only recently come to call home, and crossed the busy thoroughfare into the leafy neighborhood that had become her refuge, Sylvan Lane. After one month of living in Brookline, she still wasn’t sure what she was doing, other than simply not being with Brian anymore. Her rented room was in a shabby old Victorian that had been carved up for apartments some fifty or so years before. She could barely afford the rent, and most days went a little hungry just to make sure she could manage to stay. Staying away and out of sight was her only hope at this point.

But the world opened up once she crossed the busy road and left reality behind. The trees were taller and more lush, the grounds were expansive and mysterious, each house was more breathtaking than the one before. But there was one house, one house in particular that was the reason she made the trek every day. It was enough to just to walk by the house and breathe in the air of its beauty – the vast expanse of various levels and wings, the soft honey glow of its stone façade. Windows were banked in swaths across what must be great open rooms inside. Oh, to be inside! That was the fantasy she played out every time she passed by, and later what helped her sleep at night. She imagined the lovely foyer of sparkling white, set off with marble tables and lilies in vases. The kitchen would be one of those great rooms that invite life and warmth, a French range where she would conjure up magic in the form of delicious dishes that would fill the space with the heady scents of spices from far off lands. And her room – oh her room would have a huge bed, piled high with soft down pillows and pure white comforter. The color white filled her with peace, and it was peace that she was looking for.

And then she came to the living room. There he was tending the fire. He would turn to her and smile, reaching out his hand to her, welcoming her with love and tenderness. He was tall and his hair was shiny and dark. It was his eyes that compelled her story forward. They were dark green and gold, but mostly they radiated love and kindness. They would talk of many things and she would be content and secure in the warmth of this life with this man.

Now as she approached the house, she saw something lying in the street near the driveway. It was a little black book, battered and damp. She picked it up and glanced through it quickly – it looked like someone’s diary. Looking around she felt a flutter of panic. What should she do? Should she just leave it here? Should she go knock on the door to see if it belonged to the person who lived there? A car passed and she realized she probably looked odd, just standing there out of place in this private neighborhood. She panicked and shoved the book into her jacket pocket and walked quickly on. In reality she had never seen anyone come out of the house or go into it. She had never seen anyone at all. Everything was a dream. It was a dream that she nurtured to get her through her days. But now it was time to go back to her sad little room and face the rest of the night alone.

Vanessa overslept the next morning. She jumped out of bed and without bothering to shower, pulled a brush through her long auburn hair. Glancing into the mirror she saw a young pretty woman of 28. At least that was what people told her, that she was pretty. She had to learn to believe it after Brian. But she had no time for that now. She put on the black pants and white shirt required of baristas at her part time job at the coffee shop in the center of town. Hah! Barista. As if she belonged there at all. She belonged nowhere, or so she felt after the years she had endured at the hands of Brian. His gaslighting and passive aggressive abuse finally made her reach her breaking point, and here she was now, the model of normalcy, or so she hoped to appear. She grabbed her jacket, threw it on, and ran out the door, running toward her job, running away from memories.

The morning shift was busy and she didn’t have a minute to think, let alone daydream. Things were slowing down and Vanessa was drying some coffee mugs when she looked up to see Dave the manager with a young female police officer at the front of the store. Dave was pointing to her across the room. She froze. The first thing that came to her mind was that Brian had finally tracked her down. But why would the police be involved? Could he have really been that sick? Yes, probably. But now Dave was gesturing for her to come over. She took a deep breath and tried to look unconcerned.

“Yes, what is it, Dave?”

“Vanessa, this officer would like to speak with you. Officer, this is Vanessa Gardener. She has been with us for, what is it, about a month now?”

“Yes, it has been, a month.”

“Vanessa, I’m Officer Keller with the Brookline police force. I was wondering if you could come with me to answer a few questions.”

“Come with you? Answer questions? What about?”

“We can talk about that when we get to the station.”

Dave said, with surprising concern in his voice. “Is this legal officer? Shouldn’t Vanessa be able to hear what it is you are questioning her about?”

“Well, all I can say right now is that she was seen in the vicinity of a crime. I would rather leave it at that for now.”

Vanessa felt her heart start to pound and her face flush red. Suddenly it was hard to breathe, but she quickly pulled herself together and realized she really had nothing to fear. She may have been in the vicinity of a crime, but she knew she certainly had not committed a crime. She found herself agreeing to go, saying goodbye to Dave and following the officer out to his patrol car.

Once at the station, the panic grew. Maybe it had to do with the years she had spent with someone who made a game of making her feel guilty and unworthy that she found herself preparing a defense for something she knew nothing about.

Detective Keller ushered her into a room and offered her coffee or tea as she settled at the interview table. Vanessa shook her head, mute and hoping she could get out of this situation very soon.

“I’ll get right to the point, Vanessa. Your image was seen on the close circuit cameras in Sylvan Road. There have been a series of robberies in that neighborhood. In fact, when the film was reviewed it could be seen that you have visited that street frequently over the past month or so. The house in question, the one where the crime occurred last night, is where you usually slow down and take a good long look. Can you explain to me what you were doing there?”

Vanessa gulped back a sob and looked down at her folded hands. She felt humiliated to be caught out in such a way, indulging in her fantasy.

“I like to walk there. It is beautiful.” She heard her own words and voice for the weak, silly creature Brian had created. But this was outrageous. He was despicable to have steered her life to this point where she was now sitting in front of a detective blurting out ineffectual defensive blather.

“I have nothing to hide, and I had nothing to do with any robberies.”

Detective Clark gave her a quizzical look.

“Well, you were seen, and as you say, there are so few people actually on foot, that it seemed a good idea to question you and find out if you saw anything.”

Vanessa knew the detective was playing at being casual when in actuality she was drawing her out to see if she actually knew anything.

“Wait a minute. I did see something. When I was walking down Sylvan Street yesterday evening I found a little black book lying near the driveway to number 321. As a matter of fact, I forgot all about it. I have it right here in my pocket!” She was happy that she had worn her old outdoor jacket to work. With that, Vanessa pulled the book out of her pocket and handed it to the detective.

Detective Clark told her to place it on the table. Vanessa realized it would probably have to be fingerprinted. After a few more minutes of standard protocol, Vanessa was free to leave, with the customary caution not to go anywhere, but that she may have to answer more questions.

“We’ll let you know if we need any more help. But thank you for this.” The detective indicated the book on the table between them.

Vanessa collapsed on her couch that afternoon. Too worn out to do anything. Soon she drifted off into a sweet sleep with visions of a beautiful house and gardens that stretched out, filled with flowers in the spring.

A week went by, filled with work and lonely nights at home. She didn’t dare return to Sylvan Lane, so she had to satisfy herself with the paths around the nearby public park. By Friday night she was restless, but still there was nowhere to go, no one to see. She settled down with a library book and was just slipping into its reverie when she heard a knock on the door. Getting up, she stretched and cautiously opened the door a crack. There he was. The tall man with shiny dark hair and golden green eyes.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Vanessa Gardener?

“Yes.”

“I’m Sean Kincaid. I just came to thank you. You helped me out a great deal last week with the police. My house was robbed and if you had not turned in the diary you found, the perpetrators would probably still be at large. I would like to express my appreciation by giving you something in thanks. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. Suddenly she knew she must invite him in. All the warnings of her past were silenced by the certainty she felt looking into those golden green eyes.

“Would you like to come in? I could make some coffee.”

He smiled and said, “Thanks, I would like that.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of happiness. They spoke easily to each other and all her fears and worries melted in the warm glow of laughter and real conversation. It was easy to be with him and she felt her true self finally shining through once more.

At ten o’clock Sean said, “Well, I guess I better be getting on my way. But I am so happy that you found that diary, Vanessa. I know that you like to walk. Would you like to take a walk with me tomorrow? It is going to be a beautiful day.”

Vanessa agreed and saw him to the door. “Good night. See you in the morning.” The sparkle stayed with her as she closed the door and walked across the room to change into her nightgown. It was then she saw the envelope lying on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, opened it, and found a check for twenty thousand dollars. But what she really treasured was the simple note: “To Vanessa, in gratitude, Sean.”