Pausing a moment to put her dirty blonde hair up in a messy bun, Betty sighed while looking at the boxes neatly taped and labeled in her new apartment. Beaux Jacques, her faithful boxer, sat in the corner patiently until he sensed her distress and walked up to her, nudging against her neck. “Hey, now, Beaux, until you learn how to read boxes, I don’t need your help.” Betty giggled and then wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck, happily accepting his affection. Sometimes she still doubted if the move was the best decision to make, but when she saw just how her older canine’s spirits were lifted by the amount of time they had together, she knew in her heart it was the right thing to do.

She recalled the things she had lost since she took her corporate job. She lost count of the times she had to tell her family she couldn’t come to birthday celebrations, graduations, or even a select few funerals. She skipped most holiday meals, foregoing carving the turkey for spreadsheets and legal letters, she insisted on drafting herself. She desired excellence in every case she undertook and would work days on end to make sure her clients were well-represented. She valued the law above all things and always prided herself on her research skills and had the uncanny ability to notice details others often missed. She also thought quickly on her feet in the courtroom and could flip an argument to her advantage on a moment’s notice. While she was paid highly for her services, it came at a great expense. Betty’s family pulled away and because distant through the years. She didn’t have many family members remaining, only a distant aunt and a cousin who just simply stopped calling when she didn’t have the time to engage in any conversations or catch up. Her friends also were lacking, save for the occasional dinner with a couple of women from her office; she lived her life mainly in solitude.

Opening a box labeled, ‘kitchen,’ she glanced inside and saw an assortment of pots and pans. She hadn’t had time before to actually cook, and most nights she spent with takeout from Chinese restaurants pouring over case details or researching profit margins. That was a complete change Betsy intended to make. She would cook and take the time to study it at her bed and breakfast as well when time allowed. She always admired some of the chefs she’d watch at work in the finer restaurants she frequented during dinner meetings. They seemed to have a certain passion and patience with their culinary delights. She had precision; it was the patience she didn’t know if she could grasp.

After glancing at Beaux Jacques, happily snoring on her sweatshirt in the corner, she began hanging up the pots and pans on the pot rack in the corner. She placed them in order from the smallest to largest. She insisted on her space being orderly and pristine, not so much for aesthetics, but for efficiency’s sake. She then organized her silverware in their respective slots and placed her cherry red teapot in the center of the stove to make the space feel as if she were really home. She enjoyed a good cup of tea with milk and sugar in the evenings to unwind before bed, usually while sitting on the sofa in her pajamas and comfy socks. She smiled to herself, noting the room had actually begun to come alive with some of her favorite things in place. Moving on, she found a box she had only marked, ‘mementos.’ She frowned and sighed. The box had been in storage for many years, but she had a feeling she knew its exact contents. Hearing the rustling of the cardboard, Beaux Jacques opened one eye and grumbled before he realized that nothing was coming to harm his human. He rolled onto his back and quickly began snoring once more.

Frowning, she pulled out a few assorted photo frames. She had a faded photograph of her parent’s wedding framed. She also had a newspaper article framed and matted, which didn’t celebrate any accomplishment, only served as a grim reminder of how quickly life could be taken away. Shortly after Betty graduated from high school, her parents were killed in an automobile accident while on a spontaneous road trip. They had planned to have a weekend in the mountains at a cozy ski lodge, in an attempt to rekindle the romance in their marriage when they hit a patch of black ice. The car spun off a bridge into icy waters below. The forensics specialist speculated they both had died on impact. She only could hope their passing was quick and merciful.

After they passed, Betty found herself alone to navigate the rest of her adulthood, save for her aunt, who proved to be a wise council but was no substitute for a father’s wisdom or a mother’s emotional coddling. Betty threw herself into her academic work then. She had already obtained a scholarship, but focused on making the Dean’s list every semester and found herself the proud recipient of a fellowship that covered her graduate school expenses as well. She continued her work ethic and entered law school, where she focused her interests on corporate law, yet still had more than passing interest in criminal law. She decided it would be best for her career and employment opportunities to focus on passing the bar to practice corporate law with an additional concentration in business studies and marketing. Betty then pulled out her framed diplomas, which would be placed in a pile to be moved to the bed and breakfast’s office. The next framed photo she pulled out of the box made her gasp. She inhaled a sharp breath and immediately sat down in the living room beside the box. She ran her fingertips over the dusty glass and traced the image of a young man standing beside her in a cap and gown. He was tall with deep-set brown eyes and a chiseled jawline. He looked at the camera intensely, but his arm was wrapped securely around Betsy, who was also clad in graduation attire.

She held the frame in her hands, which were shaking. She hadn’t allowed herself to look at the picture for many years. The entire relationship she had with her ex-boyfriend, Thomas, was a point of pain for the young woman. She was convinced that after they both graduated law school, they would practice at a firm together, moving in together, settling down, and getting married. Her imagined future was never to be. While they both went into their chosen fields and attempted to find time and energy to see one another, after a few months, their relationship just crumbled. Thomas was enjoying a posh lifestyle he had never experienced previously, and he was also enjoying all the attention that the more attractive females were giving him. Thomas did have the perfect package; he was handsome, intelligent, and career-driven. He would make some woman a fine husband if he would settle down. The problem was Betty wanted to settle down, and Thomas had no plans of doing that whatsoever. Betty recalled how she, in a moment of weakness, broke down in front of Thomas and pleaded with him to stay with her, asking him over and over how she could change to make their relationship work. His reply was nothing more than icy silence, as he hugged her, leaving her with only a brief goodbye. The early snowfall that November and the snapshot she had framed were the only significant memories she had of Thomas. She vowed after their short relationship to focus on her career, and the rest of her life would fall into place.

After nearly a decade of climbing the corporate ladder and working non-stop sixty-hour workweeks, she finally decided to just stop. After work one evening, she got in her car. Looking at the odometer, she realized that despite being a newer model, she never really drove it for a long distance. She was not spontaneous, but it was a lovely evening, so she left the office, went home, changed into a pair of sweats, and leashed Beaux Jacques. He happily wagged his tail as he hopped in the backseat of the car, and they drove for miles, stopping at gas stations for hot dogs and slushies as they enjoyed a midnight road trip. Betty realized she needed a change in her life. She couldn’t connect with other people any longer, and she wanted to get her humanity back. A few weeks later, she called her aunt, who gave the indispensable advice and validation she needed. She had acclimated quite a bit of saving by living frugally and not investing in a family, so she began looking on the internet for a suitable location to start her life over.

Betty took the box into the bedroom and, after taking out her diplomas and putting them into a separate box labeled ‘office,’ sat on the edge of her bed. The king-size bed took up the center of the room, and it was barren as she hadn’t had the opportunity to make it yet. She sighed and looked around the sparse space. She would do what she could to make it feel welcoming and cozy, but at the moment, it felt strange. She had never been a person to crave material things, but at the same time, she desired something different for her new location. She would go into town later after walking Beaux Jacques and pick up some new sheets and perhaps a few gallons of paint to brighten up the space. Her new landlord was so impressed by her employment history and rental references he had given her carte blanche with the option of making any changes she so desired in the space. He trusted that she would make suitable choices and restore the apartment back to its natural state should she choose to leave. She knew though a good majority of her time would be taken up by her bed and breakfast, but this time around, her life would be different. She would keep herself a separate space in the apartment, a type of secret hideaway from the daily grind.

Betty got up and walked once more to the living room, carrying assorted boxes labeled with ‘summer clothes’ and ‘winter clothes’ to the bedroom. She was meticulous when packing and sorting them so that when she went to hang them in the closet, she would only have to deal with one season at a time. When all her clothing was moved into the bedroom, the only thing that remained was the box labeled ‘art.’ When she was in law school, Betty developed quite the habit of being an art critic. Her tastes were eclectic in the paintings she chose, but most of them were minimalistic, save for a few fantasy paintings which were rich in detail in color. Those she decided she would display in her new living room. She only chose pieces that struck a chord in her and made her feel the passion. She recalled how, when she needed to get away from her books and assignments, she would slip into the campus art gallery late at night with a cup of tea and just simply stare at the pieces, as if she were expecting them to speak to her. Of course, they never really spoke to her, not in the physical sense, but they seemed to soothe her soul in a way, almost offering her a spiritual hug and proved to be quite a comfort on longer, cooler evenings.

Deciding she would wait for the movers to arrive with her furniture before hanging the paintings, she padded to the bathroom and began to put away her toiletries. She opened her box of soft towels and hung the shower curtain on metal rings. She opted for an apartment with only a shower and not a garden tub. She was unique in the fact that unlike most women, she preferred a quick shower with the water as hot as she could possibly stand it against her skin. She didn’t lie for long periods of time, soaping her skin and daydreaming about romance or reading a book. She simply sought to burn the stress of the day off her skin. It was like she needed to scorch any sins off her body before sleeping. She also knew through the variety of facts she had stored in her brain that a bath was not as effective as a shower for getting rid of dead skin cells and any germs that were harbored on her skin. Making quick work of putting her towels away and setting her toothbrush on the sink, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her messy bun had become haphazard off-center on her head, and her thin layer of the foundation had sweated away through her activity. If she were going into town, she wanted to make sure she left a good impression on anyone she met on her way to bed and breakfast. After all, she had to present herself as a successful entrepreneur. Being a lawyer had taught her that humans weren’t geared for a long-term interaction to form an opinion of like or dislike. She would put herself together before taking Beaux Jacques on his evening jaunt.