As she looked through stacks of magazines and papers, trying to make sense of it all, she caught a glimpse of the outside. Burnished gold, russet, and copper leaves glittered against the cloudless blue sky. She opened the window and breathed in the fresh autumn scent of aged leaves. A slight breeze rustled the oak and maple trees near the house and offered music. "This is home, but what do I do with you?"
"Anyone home?" a male voice said.
"I'm in the den, Garrett." She turned around and stared wide-eyed at the man standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders left little room between him and the doorframe. Bright blue eyes showered her with warmth and love, and his smile melted away her fears and uncertainties. The rolled up shirtsleeves exposed bronzed, muscular arms. Arms she longed to be held by forever, but it was only a dream. She sensed he would use the ten-year age difference as a crutch to go beyond friendship. The grandfather clock chimed two and interrupted her thoughts. "Are you playing hooky?" she asked.
"Technically, yes," he said with a hint of laughter, but it quickly faded. "I tried to work, but you won't leave my thoughts. How are you holding up out here alone?" There it was again, that word alone. How can one word be simple yet hold such far-reaching complications? The shrug offered more emotion than any words would describe and it showed in the lackluster intensity of her jade green eyes. A piece of her soul died when her granddaddy died a week ago. Death was not something new to her, but losing her last known relative destroyed her. Where did she go from here?
Caitlin stared at the desk. Everything she wanted to say sounded trite. Words and emotions jumbled around like popcorn kernels in a heated pan, right before popping. In some ways she wished she would pop in order to clear the confusion.
Garrett moved closer, which flustered her. "What are you thinking?"
Caitlin turned away from Garrett, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and tapped her foot on the wooden floor. "I'm torn between two great opportunities.
"What scares you more?" Garrett asked, "Trying or failing?"
"Both." She glanced outside again in hopes of finding her answer blazed across the sky. Garrett stood behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm more afraid of making the wrong decision. It feels wrong to sell this place because it's home. On the other hand, to give up my job feels wrong, too." As she shook her head, her arms fell to her sides. She turned to Garrett. "Any advice?"