Sanna gazed wistfully at the meticulously labeled plastic containers holding the outdoor Christmas decorations. This was the earliest they had ever taken them down.
The movers would be here to pack up the house on January 2nd, so it had to be done.
She stacked them carefully next to the containers of indoor decorations in the garage bay where Hank used to park his truck. Next, she returned the ladder to its designated hook. Mark and Emily were making the rounds celebrating and commiserating with their friends and their friends’ parents whom they’d known since preschool.
Obviously, no one was thrilled about the move. How were the twins supposed to hang out with their friends during breaks if they no longer had a home in Pittsburgh? Despite the many offers of guest rooms, pull out sofas, or floors for sleeping bags, it wouldn’t be the same as coming home to the house they grew up in.
After the walk through and closing on January 4th, she and the kids would head for Vermont to join Hank. Mark and Emily would have about a week to settle into their new rooms before they flew back to their respective universities. Sanna knew better than to call the new house their home. They’d made it perfectly clear Vermont would be their parent’s home. She tried to be understanding, but it irked her that the kids were being so difficult. It’s not like she or Hank did something to lose their jobs or intentionally decided to change careers and zip codes. At least they wouldn’t be homeless like so many other families affected by downsizing and business closures.
Like most 55 year-olds, Hank and Sanna had been focused on getting their kids through college, adjusting to being empty nesters, and planning for their eventual retirements. Neither of them expected to lose their jobs before the holidays. When they both did, remaining unemployed wasn’t an option.
Hank always thought of woodworking as a fun hobby, but joining the family business in Vermont was never his dream. He’d spent enough time working in the shop operating a lathe and sweeping up sawdust during high school and college, but when his older brother made the offer, he couldn’t turn it down.
Sanna never envisioned house hunting by watching Hank tour houses online and listening to realtors wax poetic about hardwood flooring, butcher block counter tops, and farmhouse sinks. Her best friend Hanna drove her to the airport, so she could fly up and take a look for herself. Mid-century modern homes, her favorite, were in short supply with hefty price tags. Traditional Colonials and modern farmhouse didn’t feel right.
Much to the kids’ dismay, she and Hank bought a historic fixer upper close to the business and his brothers’ homes. It was livable, but in need of a lot of TLC. The house was completely different from their Pittsburgh home. It would be beautiful once it was restored. A fresh start with a nod to history and Hank’s roots. Just the thing to keep Sanna busy when she wasn’t writing and editing tech manuals for her new employers. It wasn’t an exciting job, but she was good at it, and it paid well because she worked quickly. She could also live anywhere as long as she had internet access.
Hank had already arranged to have high speed internet installed the day after closing.
Everything was falling into place. One house sold. Another one purchased.
She’d purged the house of twenty years of clutter before it went on the market. Nothing was making the trip to Vermont that wasn’t essential. Of course her definition of essential often clashed with Mark’s and Emily’s. Some school papers and favorite toys had to be reclassified as essential items, but most ended up photographed and stored on USB drives before being donated, recycled, or tossed. It didn’t really matter if anyone would ever look at them. Knowing they still existed somewhere was enough to placate the twins.
***
“Miss you already,” Hank said when she answered her cell phone.
“You only left a few hours ago.” Sanna countered. “Miss you, too.”
“Did the kids help you finish taking down the decorations? Sorry I didn’t get them all down before I left.”
“All packed up and in the garage. Are you going to stop for the night or drive straight through? Ten hours is a long drive for one person. At least I can switch off with Mark and Emily when we come up.”
“You didn’t answer my question, so I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Are they still sulking about the move? I asked them to cut you some slack.”
“They’re saying goodbye to all their friends. It was hard enough when everybody scattered to different colleges and universities after graduation, but not being back for spring break or summer break was never part of the plan.”
“I know and I’m sorry, but I didn’t close the plant, and there aren’t any jobs in the area. We aren’t the only ones who are moving. Dozens of homes are going up for sale after the new year. We’re just lucky the Johnsons needed to be in at the beginning of the month.”
“At least we’ll finally be close to family. The kids will come around once they get to know all their cousins. We’re doing the right thing.” Sanna wasn’t sure who she was really trying to convince, but she heard the relief in Hank’s voice as he responded,
“I hope you’re right. Give the kids my love and call me if they give you a hard time about anything. I love you, Sanna. I hate we won’t be spending our last night in the house together, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Sanna stared at the screen after the call ended. “One more week until forever starts again,” she murmured.