He looked at his phone to check the texts that had come in while he was sleeping. Rondo needed him to call as soon as he read Tyler's report, and Joe Talbotte wanted to know if two o'clock his time (four o'clock Joe's time) would work for a short conference regarding the Rialto project's timeframe.
It still amazed him how he was able to read the text in the morning without the aide of reading glasses, but right around three in the afternoon he would start seeing nothing but blurry letters on a fuzzy screen. He wondered if anyone else experienced that phenomena and made a mental note (which he would no doubt forget) to ask a few friends in his age group about it.
Quickly and efficiently he continued his morning routine after he replied to each text. He put his gym clothes on after removing his pajamas, kissed his still sleeping wife on her cheek, then headed downstairs.
The coffee pot was full and he thought to himself for the umpteenth time "the person who invented the programable coffee maker should be in some sort of inventors hall of fame" as he filled his cup after adding the small shot of flavored creamer.
Standing at the kitchen sink he stared out the small window as the first light of the sunrise began to creep over the horizon. He loved the fact that the kitchen window looked due east for both the unimpeded sunrise, which 90% of the time energized him for the day, and for the fact that when he returned from his office the sun setting behind him meant the view east was dark, which 100% of the time relaxed him.
He walked out his front door and breathed in deep. Living in a small town might dull some people senseless, but he had not only embraced it, he had grown to love it. It was much, much calmer than living in what he now termed "that horrible monster" of a city that his early days with the corporation required. When he was first told he was going to have to take such a remote assignment, both he and his wife balked, as neither he nor his wife could imagine living so far out in what all of his co-workers (and his wife's co-workers as well) referred to as the "middle of nowhere".
His superiors at the corporation explained that the small office in the Midwest required a person of his abilities, and it was expressed to him in no uncertain terms that the request for him to take over that office came with an unspoken "or else find other employment".
Explaining that to Tara was rough. He actually thought she was going to file for divorce when he first told her the news. After all, she had a career of her own and had worked hard to secure a partnership with the firm she joined twenty years ago right out of law school.
However, after their first visit to the small town and initial interactions with the residents, Tara had not only opened up to the idea, she fell in love with it. It was almost instantaneous, especially after she realized that not having to deal with a constantly ringing phone or endless seemingly pointless meetings was nothing short of heavenly.
The door to his car opened with a bit of a fight - ever since that little fender bender it had stuck just a little due to the slight twist in the alignment of the door to the frame. He'd get it taken care of someday, or he'd just trade it in as-is next year, when he finally bought that staple of small town life, a pick-up truck.
Bright sunlight bounced off the snow covered lawns of his neighborhood as drove down the quiet street. The Saddlers were up walking their dogs and they shared good morning waves as he drove past. The gym was only a mile and a half of start and stop driving from his home, and it probably would have been much healthier if he just walked to the place, but then he wouldn't be able to sip his coffee or listen to the morning show on the small town radio station, which was live and amateurishly unrehearsed, not some nationally syndicated, completely scripted, infinitely duplicated dull format with two or three earnest young clowns reading celebrity gossip as if it was earth-shattering news.
He internally hummed the theme to Green Acres as he drove through the center of town. It was too early for most of the shops to be open, but there were a few people up and at'em.
Jerry was in front of the courthouse raising the flag as he always did, Miss Richards was putting the small A-frame sign with the day's pastry specials listed in bright chalk out in front of her healthy alternatives pastry shop, and Miles Tinsley was shoveling a little more snow off the two lanes that fronted his garage.
He pulled into his usual parking space in front of the gym. Through the large plate glass window in front of the building he could see three other early risers exercising as he got out of his car. Randy greeted him at the front desk as he entered, just as he did every other day (Randy alternated the morning shift with Gail, who he was not-so-secretly infatuated with but had yet to ask out).
"Morning Mr. Hertzberg, how's it hanging?" Randy beamed his usual greeting through enviously straight white teeth. "Great, Randy, it's another wonderful day. You ask Gail out yet?" Randy blushed slightly at the question, and replied, "Nope, still waiting for the right moment". "Well, don't wait too long, girl like that is going to have other suitors you know". Richard Hertzberg quipped as he walked toward the three other people in the small gym. Randy looked wistfully after him and wished he had his confidence.
The three other men, all of them retired and all of them dressed like it - sweat pants and ratty T-shirts - smiled and greeted the friend they all referred to as Hertz as he approached. Hertz returned the greetings to each individual by their nicknames as well. Opening the small gym after he and Tara had moved to the "middle of nowhere" was one of the best things he ever did.
When they had finally decided to make this town their new home they had quickly ascertained that the only places they would be able to meet and interact with the general population were either the VFW hall, one of the local churches, or one of the five small bars. Since neither he nor Tara found any of those places appealing, he decided to open a small gym and she had opted for opening a flower shop.
The residents of the town were fairly welcoming and embraced both of the new businesses and their respective owners, as not only were these new businesses filling spaces in buildings that had long been vacant, they were both businesses the residents were surprised to discover they actually needed and liked to frequent.
So not only was Richard's decision to take the remote assignment out in the "middle of nowhere" working out, so was Tara's decision to accept a buyout of her partnership in the law firm and follow him to the "middle of nowhere".
Sometimes, life just works out well, especially for people who make the best out of what some people would deem less that optimal situations.
*This story is very loosely based on a couple I met in a small town a few miles outside of Dubuque, Iowa several years ago. The names and exact circumstances have been changed at the request of the subjects of the story, but the gist is pretty much spot on.
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