The Height Of Happiness

Serena smiled softly, and decided to take the moment to change the subject. She couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. Serena didn’t regret the decision she’d made, but hearing her cousin and best friend gossip about her life choices made her feel chagrin for even talking about them in the first place. The unfortunate crux of her life was that she was somebody who had to talk about her problems to solve them, so short bursts of power sessions with these two women made any problem bearable.

Although, Teddy was not a problem to be solved. He was a road not taken.

This occupied her thoughts as she drove Cassie home to her apartment. She lived in town, close to the school where she taught and also close to the commercial bakery she sometimes rented space from for her larger projects. Pulling up to the sidewalk just outside Cassie’s building, her best friend looked at Serena with a familiar expression.

“I can tell something is bothering you, babe.”

Serena sighed, “It’s nothing serious.”

“I know it’s not just this weekend. Everything’s under control. I know that, and you know that. You’re worried about what comes after this. And I know you weren’t a fan of talking about Teddy.”

Serena sighed again, “Am I always so obvious?”

Laughing, Cassie turned down the radio as she explained, “Serena, I’ve been staring into those doe eyes for a long time. I just know when they’re upset, and talking about Teddy upset you. Do you feel like… less than when we talk about s*x? I mean, I know you’re not a virgin, but you aren’t scarlet-letter red. You’re like a babydoll pink shade.”

“Way to use a color analogy, art teacher. Are we going to finger paint my feelings next?”

“Your snark is so funny!” Cassie retorted ironically. “If you did, what would it look like?”

“It would be red for the fall and the excitement. It would be blue for all the time I have been pouting over my mistakes. Also, I think gray because I never thought I would get this far in life without meeting… my somebody.”

“We’re not that old.”

“No!” Serena knew. “We still have our looks, but you know my family has a bad history with pregnancy. I decided when I was young to have kids early if I could, but then my babies became the business and my cat. They’re not exactly equal replacements for a human child.”

“Well, that’s debatable.”

“Is it?”

“It depends on how you’re measuring those two things. They’re equal in workload… and how much you care about them.”

Serena smiled, “I guess so. I just never saw my path going quite like this. I just got all these ideas when the winery got in my head, and now….”

“You’ve done an amazing job,” Cassie added. “You’ve talked about your plans since we were learning United States history in high school, or we were supposed to be learning anyway. You wanted to make this a place where you could one day get married. You wanted to update the house and make it space fit for a twenty-first century family of four or five. You’re living that dream, babes. It just seems that maybe the first part is taking a little longer than you anticipated.”

“But what if that moment I had in New York was my moment? I look back, and I just keep feeling like if that was my big opportunity to fall in love, be married, and do the things romantic comedies have rubbed in my face all these years… I blew it. When will that happen again?’

“When you let it.” Cassie rested her hand on Serena’s shoulder to comfort Serena. “You had that moment because you opened yourself up. That can easily happen again if you let love in. Don’t worry about plans or schedules. Timelines don’t matter. You’ll find your happiness in due time.”

“I’m pretty happy that you’re my best friend, Cassie.”

They hugged and Cassie waved goodbye before disappearing into the apartment building. Serena pulled back out and drove into the countryside where her business and home sat amongst the quiet bucolic landscape. Tucked among the hills, the wood-carved sun-bleached sign had marked the road for decades, and it was only recently the state had designated the road with its own address. Driving down Clarabelle Lane, Serena could see her young life’s work as she snuck through in the little vintage car her father had bought and fixed up for himself on that same property.

To the right, the inn Serena had constructed, designed, and furnished glowed intermittently. The occupied rooms of the three-story building were illuminated by lamp light, and more cars were arriving at the valet for a late check-in. The light shade of brick and the wide green doors at the front entrance were striking in the evening light. Taking a left and going around the hill, Serena could see the refurbished barn also alive with a party she had helped plan. The barn itself was an old animal barn that her family had used as storage and a garage for equipment for many years, but as a child Serena had seen opportunity.

Restoring the old building, she forged a brick path from the new inn to the patio she outlined herself sitting in the grass of that very hillside as a child. She painted the faded red shades a crisp linen white, and hung rustic chandeliers in the rafters made of reclaimed wood from old vineyard posts. Decorated with a butterfly and herb garden around the perimeter , tonight the place was also teaming with birthday decorations for the only person in town older than that barn.

A former elementary school teacher and principal was celebrating her one-hundredth birthday this weekend. Her husband, one living sibling, five children, twelve grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren had all pitched in to plan this grand affair. There was a bouquet of one hundred of her favorite flowers, a big band was playing one hundred of her favorite songs from her youth, and there were one hundred cupcakes on a grand tower amongst an array of other southern delicacies.

Rolling her window down, Serena could hear the music drifting through the breeze. A sad, sweet melancholy rested upon her heart as she listening to the light sounds of a trumpet play a love song. Everything in her life, including that party, made Serena wonder what her life was going to look like when she reached the ripe old age of a century. Would she have a mass of people celebrating her life? Would there be generations of people who kissed her cheek and sang her name to a happy birthday chorus? Would there even just be a few people, and not the dozens there at the barn?