{"id":10554,"date":"2025-09-22T16:43:20","date_gmt":"2025-09-22T21:43:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/?p=10554"},"modified":"2025-09-22T16:43:23","modified_gmt":"2025-09-22T21:43:23","slug":"coming-in-for-a-landing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/coming-in-for-a-landing\/","title":{"rendered":"Coming in for a Landing"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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By Samantha Rae-Garvey<\/strong><\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Shivering, tears soaking her face, Joan punched in the passcode to unlock her phone. She swiped the home screen back and forth until she finally found the GPS app. Her daughter Olivia\u2019s voice filled her ears: \u201cI just don\u2019t believe you can find your way around Koa Gap, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan was not yet 50 years old and newly divorced when the forgetfulness started. At Olivia\u2019s urging, she had sought help, and specialist after specialist concluded that this absentmindedness was a side effect of her long-term use of prescribed anti-depressants. Her own willingness to forget didn\u2019t help. That\u2019s what had caused the breach between them; her daughter assumed with some accuracy that Joan was, once again, choosing to be helpless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She missed her daughter, but Joan understood Olivia\u2019s need for distance. Theirs had always been a complicated relationship, made more so by Joan\u2019s turbulent marriage to Olivia\u2019s father and their subsequent divorce. But the fact that Olivia hadn\u2019t blocked her cell phone number offered Joan a little hope that one day she could make it all right. Not that she would call anytime soon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could forget the slew of wrong turns that got her here instead of forgetting the right ones that would get her out of town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Come to me, weary one.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her eyes flashed open. The words were strange, but somehow Joan knew them. Without thinking twice, she powered off her phone and started to drive without the GPS telling her where to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Even after hours of driving, the needle on the fuel gauge hadn\u2019t moved much by the time the sun started to set. Joan had no idea where she was, except that she wasn\u2019t where she had been\u2014her sister Annmarie\u2019s house. Her sister\u2019s words echoed in her mind, \u201cYou\u2019re just floating around and expecting everyone else to pick up your slack!\u201d That\u2019s when Joan had thrown her few belongings into a grocery bag and walked out the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That was all behind her now, along with the cookie-cutter houses and cereal box office buildings. Here, wooded areas stretched in all directions. Anxiety rippled through her; it was all so unfamiliar. Maybe she should have stuck it out at Annmarie\u2019s. With a tap of her hand against the steering wheel, Joan snapped out of it. There was no going back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The sun dipped below the horizon, and Joan switched on her headlights. The curves of the road became harder to navigate. There were no lampposts here, only moonlight. She glimpsed something rushing from the woods and right into her path. Two eyes reflected the beam of her headlights; Joan screamed and slammed the brakes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her grip on the steering wheel loosened. As the deer stared back at her, she noticed curiosity in the creature\u2019s eyes. Her heartrate slowed, and she smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I will give you rest.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan\u2019s brows furrowed at the familiar words. The deer crossed to the other side of the road. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Wishing the animal would stay, just a little while longer, Joan watched it fade into the trees. She trailed it with her eyes, landing on a rectangular sign made of dark wood. Two soft lights pointed at the sign glowed just enough to make it legible: Parkview Heights.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Curious, Joan turned onto a short drive that ended into a lot where a small lamppost illuminated a few empty spaces. Beyond them, darkness swallowed the landscape. Exhaustion set in faster than fear. Parked in the first spot, Joan triple checked the locks on her doors, took one more look around, and fell asleep almost immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sunlight startled Joan awake. Nothing looked the same in the new daylight streaked pink with sunrise. She tried to recall how she\u2019d ended up in this parking lot and pieced it together. Moonlight. Dark curves. The deer. \u201cFind rest, weary one.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The words seemed audible this time, and Joan checked the back seat to be sure she was still alone in the car. She rubbed her forehead, trying to soothe the confusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan reached for a bottle of water in the passenger seat and grabbed a few of the remaining crackers to quiet her growling stomach. A rumpled envelope behind the cupholder held what was left of the money she\u2019d managed to save over the past two years. She counted it again: $37.46.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In the morning light, she could see buildings through the trees. A smaller one bore a sign reading \u201coffice,\u201d and behind it were several larger buildings that appeared to be apartments. She hesitated a moment but decided to stretch away the stiffness of her sleep, brush off the crumbs from her breakfast, and make her way up the cobblestone path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The sign on the door had been flipped to open, but Joan thought it best to knock first. Her reflection in the window reminded her to brush her fingers through her hair. When no one answered after the second knock she tried the handle. The door opened into the quaint living room of a small cottage. Joan\u2019s smile widened. The floor plan was almost identical to the cottage she\u2019d bought when Olivia was just a baby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 To her right was a small table with a bell. Her finger hesitated a few seconds before she pressed it.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cCome in, come in!\u201d A voice called out from what Joan assumed to be the kitchen, given the faint clatter of dishes in the background.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan stepped further inside and shut the door. She scanned the room, taking in two chairs in need of new fabric separated by a coffee table, sitting close to the fireplace like they were waiting for winter to return. A rugged Bible, in need of new binding, sat on the coffee table, opened to the Gospel of Matthew. Joan ran her fingers down the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Come to\u00a0me, all who labor and are\u00a0heavy laden, and I will give you rest.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s it!\u201d She exclaimed before she could catch herself. Embarrassed, she looked up to make sure she hadn\u2019t startled anyone and continued reading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cGood morning, dear!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan snapped upright.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDidn\u2019t mean to sneak up on you.\u201d The woman had kind eyes and seemed as familiar as the words Joan had found on the page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMight you be the one parked out front?\u201d the woman continued. \u201cI saw you this morning but didn\u2019t want to wake you. I can only imagine how frightening it would be to have some stranger knocking on your window. I was hoping you\u2019d stop in before you left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She motioned to the two chairs, and Joan took one. The woman poured them both coffee, and Joan added cream and sugar to hers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m Nancy,\u201d the woman said as she sat in the other chair. \u201cWelcome to Parkview Heights.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan cleared her throat, ran her palm over her hair to make sure it was lying flat, and introduced herself. \u201cI didn\u2019t realize this was private property. I thought maybe this was a park or something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nancy\u2019s eyes narrowed with concern. \u201cHave you nowhere else to stay, dear?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan lowered her eyes at the bluntness of Nancy\u2019s question. A tear pierced the steam coming from the cup of coffee in her hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, here I am prying into something that\u2019s not my concern,\u201d Nancy interjected. \u201cMy Harry would scold me for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo, it\u2019s okay,\u201d Joan started. \u201cI was living with my sister, but it was\u2014\u201d She paused looking for the right words. \u201cTime for me to move on.\u201d Her eyes darted to the corner of the room to avoid eye contact with Nancy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, dear,\u201d Nancy said knowingly. \u201cSounds like you\u2019ve had a rough go of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t Annmarie\u2019s fault. She tried to help me, <\/em>Joan wanted to add. But she couldn\u2019t find her voice, so she just looked down again and nodded. Counting the ticks of the clock on the wall, she took small sips of her coffee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A ding from the kitchen broke the silence, and Nancy excused herself. \u201cThat\u2019s the muffins. Be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan watched the kitchen door swing shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Come to me, weary one.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At the nudge of the words, Joan looked over to the open Bible on the coffee table. She leaned forward, setting her cup on a coaster so that she could find her place and continue reading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMy burden is light,\u201d she read aloud to herself, eyes squinting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nancy returned with a plate of perfectly golden muffins. She offered them to Joan then took one for herself. Nancy said a short prayer, and they began eating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan swallowed a bite of muffin and sipped her coffee. \u201cMy memory isn\u2019t so good anymore. Could you tell me what town we are in?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cKoa Gap,\u201d Nancy said, holding her napkin over her mouth to hide the bite of muffin she had just taken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cKoa Gap?\u201d Joan repeated, more tears forming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nancy reached over to put her hand on Joan\u2019s shoulder. \u201cFar from home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNot far enough,\u201d Joan shook her head in disbelief. She\u2019d set out the day before to leave this town and the memories she still had of it. Somehow she was still here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThis problem you\u2019re having with your memory,\u201d Nancy prompted. \u201cHow did it start?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan closed her eyes, feeling the full weight of the burdens of the past decade\u2014of her whole life. With a deep breath and surprising clarity, Joan explained everything. Falling in love, giving up her position at the bank to marry. His abuse. The depression. All those medications. The forgetfulness taking over. Olivia\u2019s disappointment. Annmarie\u2019s frustration. All the failed jobs, and the $37.46 she had left. Now, her plan to escape had only taken her in circles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDear, dear,\u201d Nancy clucked, dabbing a tissue at the corners of her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan watched in wonder. Of all the tears she had cried, no one had ever shed some of their own with her. She sat up, her shoulders feeling lighter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Nancy\u2019s face brightened, as if with an idea. \u201cI am getting older and just can\u2019t do a lot of things that I used to do. And with my Harry gone, keeping up with everything has been especially difficult.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan looked at her, puzzled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI am in great need of an assistant, dear,\u201d Nancy went on. \u201cLight bookkeeping, errands, and occasionally walking the property to make sure everything looks in order.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan hung on Nancy\u2019s every word as she explained the benefits and pay, which included an apartment on the property. She clung to the hope blossoming in her heart until the weight of the past started seeping back in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She dropped her head. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Nancy. I don\u2019t think you want me for the job.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            Nancy pursed her lips. \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m useless. No good to anybody.\u201d Joan repeated the words she\u2019d heard so many times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI see.\u201d Nancy pursed her lips. \u201cWho told you that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cEverybody.\u201d Joan wiped away fresh tears. \u201cI\u2019ve just been floating around this whole time, like trash in the wind. No purpose. No value.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Joan returned to counting the ticks of the clock until her focus went back to the Bible verse. My burden is light.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSeems to me your memory is fine, dear. You\u2019re just remembering the wrong things.\u201d Nancy sat forward to take Joan\u2019s hand in hers. \u201cYou\u2019re more like a feather in a breeze. Maybe it\u2019s time you come in for a landing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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<\/em>Samantha Rae-Garvey<\/strong> is a lover of words and good storytelling. She has recently made a change in her career to focus on her writing. Samantha lives in Covington, Georgia, with her husband, dog, and two cats.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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\"Opening<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n
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By Samantha Rae-Garvey<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10554","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-original-online-fiction"],"yoast_head":"\nComing in for a Landing | Faith Hope & Fiction<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/faithhopeandfiction.com\/content\/coming-in-for-a-landing\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Coming in for a Landing | Faith Hope & Fiction\" \/>\n<meta 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