Chapter Text
Edward Teach stood in the middle of his living room, holding a paint roller covered in remnants of Summer Linen, which he’d just finished painstakingly applying two coats of to the walls. He wiped at the sweat on his brow and surveyed the space. The warm, cream color contrasted beautifully with the rich hardwood floors and made the room feel brighter as the early afternoon light streamed in through the large bay window. It also highlighted how very spacious and empty the room was. Right. He was gonna need some furniture, seeing as he’d left everything behind at his old condo.
Well. Not everything. He’d of course brought his huge orthopedic mattress that, much to his chagrin, did actually help his back and joints, even if he’d felt like an old man when he finally broke down and bought it. His kitchen was also fully unpacked, as was his bathroom; not too much emotional baggage associated with the items that go in either of those spaces, so they got to come along. What Ed had absolutely not wanted to bring with him to his new home was his living room furniture. All dark and edgy and spare, black leather and chrome, picked out by a suave interior designer in the name of curating a “minimalist aesthetic”. Sure, Ed’s place made a statement. But in recent years, Ed had started to feel that the statement was, “Look how fucking cool and intimidating I am. No soul or coziness here, fuck off.”
And that just wasn’t who Ed wanted to be anymore. He was sick of coming home to a soulless penthouse in the sky, when what he really wanted was to be near the beach. He was sick of city nightlife, bars and clubs and apps that never led to any sort of meaningful connection. He was sick of the grind, showing up to an office each day where he had to live up to the image he’d so carefully curated over the years. Edward “Blackbeard” Teach, corporate raider, respected and feared in equal measure (or maybe more like a 30/70 split in favor of fear, if he was honest with himself). Ed read the business section of the paper the way sailors read the stars; he could tell which way the corporate winds were blowing from the most innocuous quote others would skim right past. Like that time he read a lifestyle profile about a tech CEO in which the journalist mentioned their lunch featuring frankfurters and Dunkelweizen. Ed knew immediately that the Germans were cozying up to the man, and there had to be a reason (Izzy had rolled his eyes. “Frankfurters, Ed? Really? You want to make a move based on fuckin’ sausages?”). But Ed had a finely honed, innate sense for when to pounce, knew the exact moment a successful venture would start to struggle. Ed’s firm would swoop in and essentially raid the place, taking it apart piece by piece. His ruthless approach to business made him a fuckton of money, to be sure, but very few friends.
And for most of his life, Ed had convinced himself he didn’t need friends. He needed associates as driven and ambitious as he was. He didn’t need a romantic partner. He was young and brilliant and a complete workaholic; he thrived on chasing the next big deal, executing the next intricate plan, working out the residual stress with whatever warm body was in proximity. And then all of a sudden, he wasn’t young anymore. Forty had come and gone a few years ago now, and Ed had started to wonder…is this all there is? So, very abruptly, on a random Wednesday, Ed had announced his retirement. Right in the middle of a strategy meeting. He stood up, said “I’m done”, and walked out, leaving his business partner Izzy Hands sputtering in his wake. He’d put his phone on silent and spent the rest of that day studying real estate listings on his laptop. By that evening, he’d found a lovely cottage right on the beach. It looked cozy as fuck and was exactly the antidote Ed needed for the shiny, hard-edged life he’d built in the city. It looked to him like the perfect place to start over, reset. He contacted the listing agent and made an all-cash offer well above the asking price.
That was about the time Izzy showed up, pounding on his door and demanding answers, forcing Ed to deal with the fallout. Yes, he was serious. No, this wasn’t a whim. Okay, maybe it was and maybe there was even a little bit of mid-life crisis thrown in there, if you wanted to get all technical about it. But, fuck, man. Ed needed some fucking peace. Ed needed a change of scenery. Ed needed to find himself. By the end of their conversation, Izzy was still sneering and seething, but he gave up trying to change Ed’s mind, certain that Ed would come crawling back just as soon as he realized how boring playing house was.
Well, joke’s on Izzy, because Ed fucking loves playing house. On his first night in his new place, he’d fixed a broken door latch all by himself. That small job well done made him feel more accomplished than he ever had in decades of corporate wheeling and dealing. After that, he tackled a rusty cabinet hinge and then a finicky toilet handle. He was on a roll! He wandered around his house looking for more projects. It was then that he’d decided that the dark forest green on the living room walls had to go. Its vibes were more suited to a hunting cabin in the woods than a relaxed, beachy sanctuary. Ed was done with darkness; he wanted light. And that’s how he found himself in his current state, covered in paint splatter, standing in what was essentially a blank canvas of a living room.
Right. Furniture. Ed tidied up all of his painting supplies and then took a shower. Cleaned up and caffeinated, he headed to the furniture store. He’d find an entire living room set that could be delivered quickly, easy peasy, puddin’ and fuckin’ pie. The salesman had taken one look at Ed’s long hair and tattoos and led him over to their displays of black leather furniture sets, perfect for an “edgy” guy like him. With a sigh, Ed explained he was looking to try something different. But he couldn’t quite articulate what he was looking for. Eventually, the frustrated salesman left Ed to wander around on his own, sitting on various sofas and armchairs, trying to imagine them in his new space. But nothing was right. None of this was him. And then Ed maybe started to panic just a little bit, because if he couldn’t find a fucking couch, how was he ever going to find himself? He left the store empty-handed and dejected. He was driving on autopilot, thoughts wandering, and he was halfway back to his old place before he realized what he was doing. Then he took a wrong exit when he changed course and found himself driving through a neighborhood full of winding streets and big fancy houses. Just as he was about to pull over to consult his phone’s GPS to find out how the fuck to get from Lighthouse Drive back to his new house, he saw it.
There, laid out at the edge of the lawn by the driveway, sat a sofa, two armchairs, and…was that a fucking fainting couch?! All of the pieces were upholstered in a luscious teal velvet. And they were all in absolutely pristine condition. What the fuck? Ed doubled back and parked his car on the other side of the street. He stepped out of his car and glanced around before approaching the lawn. He clocked a “For Sale” sign next to the mailbox that had been amended with a bright red “Sold” sticker placed across it at an angle. Okay, so the house was for sale, or had been. So maybe the furniture was too?
Ed stared at the sofa for a few moments and then sat down. Fuuuuuuuuck but that was decadent. The cushions were overstuffed and enveloped him like a hug. He ran a hand over the soft velvet, enjoying the way the color darkened and lightened as he stroked back and forth. It would look absolutely perfect in his newly Summer-Linen-bedecked living room. He tested out one of the armchairs and then sprawled out on the fainting couch. Yeah. Ed needed this furniture. He went to the front door and rang the bell. No answer. He waited a minute and rang again. Nothing. He knocked a few times. Still nothing. He stepped over to a window to peek inside. The blinds were open just enough for him to see that the house was empty. Not like “no one’s home” empty, but unoccupied empty. Not a single piece of furniture, not a single moving box, not a scrap of life inside.
Ed returned to the edge of the lawn. Had all of this brilliant stuff really just been left behind? Why else would it be out on the lawn? Just then, the front door to the neighboring house opened and a man stepped outside. His scraggly blonde hair was pulled back in a sad attempt at a ponytail and he was wearing a polo shirt that clashed with his hideous plaid golf pants.
“You there!” he called out, arms folded across his chest. “What are you doing?”
“Just checkin’ out this furniture, man. Do you know if it’s for sale?”
The man’s eyes narrowed and then lit up. “Oh no, not for sale,” he said. Ed’s heart sank and his shoulders slumped as he looked down with a sigh. “Free to a good home, that lot!”
Ed’s head snapped up. “Really?”
The man nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes. The owners are long gone, and the HOA will have it hauled to the dump if it’s still here by tomorrow.”
The dump?! All of this beautiful velvet in a landfill? Not on Ed’s watch! “Okay, thanks for the info,” Ed said. The man gave a snide smile and went back into his house without another word. Ed pulled out his phone and found a local mover he could throw some cash at to be there within the hour. While he waited, he searched online for a coffee table that complemented the set and ordered one for delivery later that week. The neighbor was backing his car out just as the movers arrived and began loading up the furniture. Ed gave a friendly wave but the man just sped out of his driveway and down the street, cackling to himself. Weird.
The movers placed all the furniture in the living room, but Ed spent the rest of that evening actually arranging it until he was satisfied. It took him a few tries to get it just right, especially since he’d never had to wrangle a fainting couch before. Eventually, he managed to create a conversation area with the sofa and chairs, while the fainting couch took pride of place against the huge bay window. He stood back and admired his handiwork. The deep jewel tone of the teal was just so fucking pleasant to look at, like looking at the sea in the morning light. He kept running his hands over the velvet, so soft and plush and delicate. And such a far cry from anything Ed had ever owned before. He thought back to his afternoon in the furniture store. Nothing in there had come close to this. It was a lot of furniture in the literal sense, and the design of the furniture itself was also just…a lot. Ed wondered: if this exact set had been sitting there on the sales floor, would he have bought it? Or would he have dismissed it, talked himself out of it? Somehow, finding it when he least expected it made it all that much more meaningful. He had been searching for some unknown thing, and all of this beauty had just been waiting on the curb to be found. It wasn’t at all what he’d expected would end up in his living room when the day started. It wasn’t him, if you asked the furniture sales guy or Izzy or any of his other former Blackbeard associates. But, Ed thought, as he snuggled into the soft velvet cushions, it certainly could be.