Nick had picked half a bushel of ripe vegetables, and collected them in a plastic bucket to take inside. He rounded the corner to the far side of the garage to see a dozen chickens milling about on a bare patch of dirt. Nick walked carefully through the flock and opened up the coop and began adding eggs to his bucket of veggies. Nine fresh eggs today. He took a minute to scatter feed and grit on the ground for the birds.

The sun was climbing higher and higher in the sky. Feeling the heat of the day coming on, Drake and the other dogs all congregated in the shade under a crude plywood shelter built for them. Nick, who was beginning to bead up with sweat, quickly set about spraying the garden with water before using the hose to fill several tubs of water for the dogs and chickens. He also playfully sprayed the dogs themselves. Drake, Tris, and Bear all jumped and chased after the stream of water while Izzy sprinted to a safe distance. Once three out of four dogs were thoroughly soaked, Nick turned off the hose and carried the bucket of homegrown produce and eggs back into the house.

The dogs all retreated back to the shade and settled in for a nap having been sufficiently worn out from their morning of play.

Nick set the bucket on the kitchen floor before kicking off his boots and tossing his hat and gloves on the small round wooden table. He slipped his shoulders free from the suspenders, allowing them to dangle against his legs, as he walked toward the bedroom. He whipped off the grey shirt as he entered the room and tossed it on the bed and then slipped off his trousers, leaving them on the floor. Lastly he removed his socks before grabbing his cell phone and walking back into the kitchen.

Unlike his bedroom, there was nothing spartan about the kitchen at all. It was chock full of implements and appliances. The high-end KitchenAid stand mixer sat on the counter as the focal point of the room. Additionally, there was a meat grinder, a sausage stuffer, a keg-erator, and a food dehydrator. Rather than decorations, utensils and other useful objects hung on the walls, similar to a craftsman's workshop. The was a roll of white butcher's paper under the cabinet where one would typically find a roll of paper towels. On top of the range sat a cast iron skillet and a Dutch oven, the two most frequently used items. A networked speaker, like the one on the bureau, was placed in the corner between the sink and the mixer.

In just his trunks he opened the refrigerator door and allowed the cool air to embrace his skin. After a minute, he reached in and pulled out a bottle of beer and immediately opened it and took a drink. The cold crisp lager chilled him from the inside out. Another drink followed. Then another. Finally he set the half empty bottle down and began packing the fresh produce and eggs into the refrigerator. Once the bucket was empty he grabbed a second beer from the fridge and picked up the first along with the phone and walked into his home office.

He sat down in the large, plush office chair, the cool leather against his hot skin making him wince, and placed the beers on the desk. This room, like the kitchen was somewhat luxurious. The walls were, for the most part lined with book shelves. The shelves themselves held an astonishing variety of book, from Plato to pulp fiction and everything in between. In addition to the books themselves, the shelves were also home to assorted knick-knacks and trinkets, and a few choice photos. In the corner to the right of the door stood a handsome, dark stained resonator guitar on a stand. On the wall above it, hanging on a peg, was an equally beautiful F-5 style mandolin featuring artistic scrollwork flourishes and classic “F-holes” like a violin or cello. In the center of the room, away from the walls, was his very plain parson's desk supporting an elegantly designed and compact iMac. Next to the computer, in a slotted vertical holder, was a laptop and a tablet computer. Two more networked speakers resided in the corners of the room in front of the desk. He tapped the space bar on the keyboard and the computer's screen lit up with a password prompt. No one within at least a dozen miles, and he still locked his computer. He typed in an eleven character password and sharply hit the return key. The screen revealed a word processor window half filled with text.

He paused for a moment, and before getting going he checked the phone and saw that he had a new message from Dana. He had met Dana in college and she was the only college friend he still had. They had that special sort of friendship which allowed them to talk everyday without growing weary of each other, but they could also lose touch for months and still pick up without missing a beat. She had moved away to California shortly after she graduated, whereas he had planted deep and strong roots near the school in Ohio.

He listened to the message, smiling, happy to hear from her.

Dana had no idea how long she’d actually been sitting on the beach staring at the horizon, but it was long enough for her instincts to be screaming at her about the dog needing to go to the bathroom and that she should get home soon. Still she sat there. Manny had left her eight months ago, claiming that their marriage just didn't feel right to him anymore, and that he'd rather they both enjoy freedom rather than suffer through life together. She'd never felt that suffering. The fact that it'd been eight months and she was still this depressed on made her more depressed. She finally had closure, shouldn't she feel better now?

Suddenly, she could here Für Elise playing in her head and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. It continued despite her willing it not to. She attempted to change the tune in her mind, to no avail.

“Oh.” She realized that her phone was ringing and that it was not an aural hallucination after all.

She raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Dana, hey, it’s Nick. Got your message.” Nick, nearly naked, sipped his beer with his feet on the corner of his desk.

“Hi. Right. How’s it going?” She was struggling to gather her wits.

“I’m good, same ol’, you know. It’s going to be a scorcher up here today, just got back inside from some outdoor chores. Stripped down and now I’m just cooling off with a beer.”

“If you don’t have any neighbors, why do you even get dressed at all?” She cracked a smile. It was impossible for her not to with him.

“I honestly think it’s just to keep clothes as the normal and naked as the special occasion. If they flipped around, I don’t know what kind of life that’d be. Plus, you know, dogs like to lick random things.”

“Gross,” she cringed, half laughing. Just like that she was injected with life and a bit of joy. “How are the dogs?”

“They’re good, they ran all morning then I hosed them down. They’re setting up for a nice nap in the shade.”

“And you? What are you up to?”

“I was just planning to sit down at the computer when I got your message.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from that.”

“Shut up. You’re not keeping me from anything. I write like, maybe, twenty hours a week. I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Okay.”

“It’s been weeks though, and a sudden call out of the blue usually isn’t good. You okay?”

“Not really.” The sadness took over her face again. “I have no idea what to do.”

“One step at a time. Don’t let things gang up on you.”

“The divorce was finalized this morning. It’s over.”

“Well, you’re right, it is over. Tomorrow you can officially begin to get over it.”

“My rent is due tomorrow, in an apartment I can’t afford to renew the lease on. So I have to move in a month, and have no idea what I can afford.”

“That sucks.”

“I hate my job, and if I miss another shift I’m going to get fired. So I can’t go on auditions. Not that I’d actually book anything, I’ve only been out here for twelve years with nothing to show for it.”

Nick could here Dana sobbing softly through the phone.

“Dana, are you suicidal at all?”

“I wasn’t,” she lied, “but do you think I should be?” She asked with an off-putting sincerity seeking validation.

“Do you remember what you said to me at the funeral?”

“Which part? I said a lot.”

“All of it. I’m just trying to say that you said it best then, so everything you said to me then, I want to say all of that to you now. Can I help at all?”

“What should I do?” Her eyes were filled with tears.

“Leave town. Go for the clean slate.”

“I don’t want to run away. That’s worse than failing.”

“It worked wonders for me, thank you very much.” Nick sarcastically feigned umbrage.

“You know what I mean.”

“Dana, look. You’ve got a bad job that you don’t like. You just finalized a divorce with a guy that ripped your heart out, rubbed it in dog shit and handed it back to you, and you’re a month away from being homeless. You need a tactical retreat.”

“Well, what then? Do I go home? Live with my mom?”

“Remember when you wanted to be a filmmaker? You were writing scripts and trying to get into the production side of things. What happened there? For years now it’s just been all about acting and nothing else.”

“It just wasn’t getting me anywhere. Why?”

“If you’ve got stories to tell, I can tell you that middle-of-nowhere, South Dakota is a pretty productive place for writing. You’re welcome here.”

“I should move up there and write. That’s your advice?”

“No, you come here and get your shit together, accumulate a body of work, heal, and when you’re ready, you march back into La-La-Land and take it over. Plus Lady’s never seen so much room to run before, she’d have a ball up here.”

“I can’t. I’ve got to have a job.” The proposal had snapped Dana into a very sober, rational state of mind.

“I’m offering you and your dog free room and board so you can sit down and do some real work without having to deal with restaurant customers. So if you get fired, and if you end up living in your car, just head up here.”

“It’s an amazing offer, thank you, Nick. I just have to be here. If I leave I might not ever come back.”

“And if you stay, you might not ever be happy. I don’t care if it’s here or Thailand, or your mom’s, it really sounds like some time away would do you good. Just take a vacation from it.”

“How would I even do that? What about my stuff?”

“When your lease is up, put your things in a storage unit, except for what you’ll need. Then pack up the car and drive up here. That way, when you go back, your stuff is ready to move into a new place.”

“How serious are you about this?”

A smile appeared on her face as she awaited the response.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4