Moving to the countryside wasn’t exactly on Steve’s bingo card for the year. Initially, the trip was supposed to be a long sabbatical to clear his head after a messy split from his wife. He’d walked in on his better half in the arms of a man he’d considered his best friend since college. The situation resolved itself quickly—no shouting matches, no fistfights, just a cold, hard realization.
He simply told the “friend” to get out of his house. As for his wife, Steve gave her a firm ultimatum. He told her he was leaving town for a month. By the time he returned, he expected the house to be empty of her and her belongings. He calmly reminded her that a messy public divorce wouldn’t look good for her current ambitions.
She was in the middle of a campaign for the City Council and had her eyes on a future in state politics. When she threatened to ruin him in return, Steve just offered a dry chuckle. He knew her “political clout” was mostly smoke and mirrors, and he pointed out that she had a lot more to lose in the court of public opinion than he did.
Steve packed a bag, but instead of filing for leave, he shocked everyone at the firm by handing in his resignation. He needed a clean slate, a total reset. By dawn the next morning, his SUV was cruising down the interstate, headed toward the quiet rural valley where his grandfather had spent his best years.
As a kid, Steve had worshipped his grandpa, spending every summer vacation at the old farmhouse. Even after his grandmother passed, Steve kept visiting whenever he could. But then came college, the corporate ladder, and marriage; the visits became fewer and farther between.
Years ago, Steve had tried to convince the old man to move into a condo in the city, closer to amenities, but his grandfather refused to leave his land. He passed away right around the time Steve got married. Now, pulling up to the familiar split-rail fence, Steve was relieved to see the property looked surprisingly good.
Clearly, the arrangement with the neighbor, Mike, was working. Steve had been sending money and the occasional gift—like a new trolling motor or high-end tools—to keep an eye on the place. The lawn was mowed, and the porch looked sturdy. This time, Steve had brought something special in the trunk: a top-of-the-line graphite spinning rod that Mike, an avid fisherman, had been eyeing for years.
