Jul 23, 2021

EVOCATIONS - Providence & Fruit Flies

By Elizabeth Sumner Wafler • Issue #19 • View online

Providence

It had been a long, hot, moving day, and by five o'clock, we were beyond ready to make our stopover, Charlotte, NC, before dark. The last of the load–heavy outdoor pots would not fit on the truck. The crew head (Zack) said if we wanted to get going, he would come back in the morning and finish up. Porter tipped him a Ulysses S. Grant–which I thought was awfully generous–and we were on our way. The next day, Zack called to say that when he’d stopped for gas–with a near-empty tank that evening–he discovered he didn’t have his wallet. Without the fifty he wouldn’t have been able to buy gas or grab something to eat.

Following Porter’s car into SC, and thinking about what this new life chapter would bring, though the road was dry, the most brilliant swath of rainbow–the symbol of God’s promises–hovered in the air for miles, each color vibrant and distinct.

We excitedly arrived at our apartment to find a pile of Amazon packages that no one had touched. Inspecting our new digs we quickly discovered that the master potty had not been cleaned since the last tenant. I know. Gross-o-rama. While Porter snared his phone to call the leasing office, I opened the Amazon boxes. In the first was something that I re-order about once a year and had decided the move was a perfect time. Did you guess it? Yes, toilet bowl cleaning brushes. And as recompense, the leasing office gave us a $50 restaurant gift card. Fifty dollars, huh?

The name of our cool, downtown-area apartment complex is Main & Stone. Naturally, it’s on the corner of Main and Stone. You may remember that I was born in Greenville and that both sides of my family lived here, my paternal grandparents on Main, and my great grandfather on Stone.

We rented a two-bedroom because Olivia is not coming until Thanksgiving and we hope to be out of here before our three-month lease is up. So B2 as we called it would be my office, Porter would work from coffee shops–he digs that. But B2 is windowless. It took me about five seconds to decide I could not work in a cave. So the cave is piled with boxes that we may or may not unpack. (About half our things are in a storage facility.) We have a super long island in the kitchen where we can work, though. But it’s nice to get out. To our delight, about ten steps down the hall is the NOMA club (an acronym for North Main) where anyone can gather for parties or work. And so far not a soul has been in there when we have. Imagine sitting with your laptop before a wall of windows overlooking the city!

Now, this is crazy. We are on a quest for a house and my cousin who lives here hooked us up with the best realtor! It’s been eight years since we went through the purchasing process, and the new technology is astonishing. So the other day, we found one we thought would be perfect, a gorgeous Charleston-style house in Greer. It had everything we were looking for and more–a stunning kitchen. We went to see it with our realtor’s assistant Linda in the pouring rain. Six o'clock arrives and Linda gets word that the seller is cutting off offers at seven o'clock that evening. She whips out her phone and calls Kiersten our agent. So we’re sitting in our car–with Linda in the back–conferencing with Kiersten and her other assistant Kalyn. Forms begin piling into our inboxes–forms to initial electronically. Lots of forms. Racing the clock, we come up with an offer and submit it. Long story short, another purchaser beat our bid. But Porter learned a lot about how to negotiate in this seller’s market. And as perfect as that house seemed, we know it was not meant to be. The Lord has a plan for exactly the right place for us. Speaking of the Lord, we are visiting a beautiful one-hundred and twenty-year-old, PCA church downtown on Sunday. It’s one we’ve live-streamed while still in Charlottesville.

I cannot find my blow dryer.

It is as elusive as the fleet of fruit flies that stowed away in our Trader Joe’s bags. I blame the peaches. The dryer is either buried in a box in the cave or over at the storage unit. It’s better to air dry your hair anyway and in the heat and humidity, my silver curls rock.

Writerly News

I have editing jobs lined up for three clients starting tomorrow. I believe the pandemic depression and fog are clearing from our heads and people are finding inspiration again. I love editing and the little money is nice. I’m preparing to be a guest of Amy Isaman’s “Dear Creativity, Let’s Write” podcast in August.

But the BIG news is that my literary agent Pamela let me know last week that an acquiring publisher (they’re called editors) who’s had my fourth manuscript since April, contacted Pamela to make sure the rights to the work were still available. The editor said, “We’ve been reviewing it, and I’m finding it deeply engaging and quite moving.” *Swooning* If I were the sort to tattoo myself I’d have been tempted to ink that. But you know what I did? The day before my post-surgical cast came off, I wrote those words on it with a Sharpie!

There’s no guarantee that the editor will make us an offer, but those words meant the world to me. Pray for it with us if you will.

Know nothing about Greenville?

This is the coolest interactive map of this progressive hot spot of a southern city. Click here to access it or copy & paste it into your browser: https://www.visitgreenvillesc.com/mapexplorer/

Photos of the Week

The foyer

A little makeshift bar

The kitchen area

The dining area. We hung only one print.

The living room area

Corner of our bedroom. The movers lost a piece of our bed frame. The mattress is sitting on the floor.

Mirabelle's favorite new spot

The NOMA club

Light and love,

Did you enjoy this issue?

By Elizabeth Sumner Wafler

Writer. Quotidian reader. Editor. Christian. Podcaster. Past Director of Craft Education for the Women's Fiction Writers Association. Repped by the @KnightAgency.

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