Chapter Text
Waterville, Maine. This wasn’t where Sansa saw herself living at all. She was pondering the reality of her situation as she adjusted herself in the cramped coach seat, becoming increasingly aware of how little leg room she had. Granny Stark had been the matriarch of her family, and her sudden passing was a shock for all. The most shocking, however, was that she had left her little cottage-style home to Sansa, of all people. Granted, selling watercolor paintings online for a living gave Sansa a great deal of flexibility with regard to her living arrangements, but a tiny house along the Kennebec river, at least 30 minutes from the nearest large city, was a bit of a stretch even for her. Somehow, though, she was going to make it work. At least temporarily, until she could sell the damn thing. What the hell did she need a house for, anyway? She was a single woman, no partner, no children. It was way too much space for just her.
As the plane began to descend for its landing, Sansa grabbed her bag from its spot on the floor and pulled it to her, almost hugging it. Maine wasn’t completely unfamiliar territory. She had grown up in that same area, her entire family living in houses within a couple miles of one another, so being out in the country was nothing to fear. However, she had stayed in Texas after moving there for college. It had been over a decade since she had been back. How was she going to handle all that snow? What would she do during a blizzard? Could she figure out how to build a fire? It was almost overwhelming. She had a tendency to overthink everything to the point of exhaustion, and this situation was no different. As soon as the exit door was open, she made her way to luggage claim as quickly as possible. She spotted her purple hard shell suitcase and pulled it from the belt, popping up the handle and rolling it behind her toward the taxi line that had formed outside.
She was sitting in the cab on the way to her granny’s house when it hit her...she doesn’t have a car. How is she going to get anywhere? Certainly she couldn’t afford to take a taxi for all of her needs. It was just one more thing she needed to sort out. One thing on a list of hundreds. Looking out the window, every road looked the same. Huge evergreen trees, boughs sagging with snow, and a white blanket of snowfall covered the ground. Given her poor directional ability, she was going to have to download an app for finding her way around, otherwise she was going to find herself lost on a daily basis.
She saw a Starbucks and convinced the cab driver to pull through the drive-thru, offering to buy him a drink. If she was going to have a million things to do, she was going to need some caffeine. When they resumed their drive toward Waterville, Sansa sipped her latte and thought of her grandmother. She hadn’t seen her in close to fifteen years, but her times with her in the past had always been pleasant and sweet. She could remember stopping by her house in the afternoons just after school as a child. Granny would make her a chocolate milk and put out a small plate of cookies, and suddenly everything in the world seemed better. She missed seeing her grandma when she moved away for college. The pang of regret was heavy in her chest thinking about all the times that she could have visited over the years and didn’t. No use worrying about it now, though...there was work to do.
She noticed the cab was slowing to a halt.
“Here you are, miss. Just down that little side road. They haven’t plowed it, so I can’t drive you there, but it’s not far...half a mile maybe.”
“Oh. Okay.” She handed the cab driver a tip and grabbed her bag and her suitcase. The snow was at least six inches deep. Fortunately, she had checked the weather beforehand and thought to buy a pair of duck boots, which were now keeping her feet dry. As she made her way down the small snow-covered dirt road, she could see that there were two small houses at the end. Her grandmother had moved into her last house after Sansa had left the state for school, so there was no telling which one was her new home, she had never seen it before. One had dilapidated wood shingle siding, the other was grey stone with a rusty tin roof. As she got closer, she pulled a folded sheet of paper from her bag, checking the address. “Stone house it is.” Looking at the front yard, it was quite small. There was a little stone walkway that led from the dirt road to the front door. A door that, looking at it, appeared to be open.