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Five minutes later, the GPS proves Ben right by telling me to make a left onto a gravel road. In fact, it’s not a road at all, but instead, it is a long driveway ending outside a cabin.
“Welcome to my hideaway.”
BEN
Four months. That’s how long it’s been since I last drove up to this place. I’ve come here a lot over the years, each time planning an extended stay. Invariably, I barely make it through one night before escaping back to the city. Whenever I pull up to the place, a strange cauldron of emotions boils in my gut, threatening to burn me. There are the old remnants of familiarity, excitement, comfort, but then there’s also the new spectrum of despair and loneliness.
Holly shuts off the engine but leaves on the headlights. I don’t know why I decided bringing her here would somehow make everything easier. But I’m willing to try.
“Are you renting, or is this your place?”
“It’s my place. My grandpa left it to me when he passed away.”
I’ve never thought passed away is an accurate way to describe how Grandpa Ben died, but Holly doesn’t need to hear the harsh truth. At least, not at the beginning of what I hope will be a fun, relaxing weekend.
“Were you close?”
“Yeah. He lived here, and I’d stay with him for a few weeks during the summer and visit throughout the year.” I know she’s ready to ask more, and normally, I love her inquisitive nature, but if I’m going to talk about my grandfather, it’s not going to be in a cold car after a long drive. “Come on. Don’t want to be caught outside when the zombies start coming out of the woods.”
“That’s not funny,” she grumbles the words but turns off the headlights and exits the car.
The distinct click of the trunk’s latch sounds loud in this quiet space. Before I can grab her bag, Holly has the strap slung over her shoulder.
“You can’t unlock the door if your hands are full. Now, please tell me this place has heat.”
The moon is almost full, and in its dim glow, I watch her do a little dance to keep warm as her breath puffs out like fog. If we were a couple, I’d pull her into my arms, using my body heat to warm her, and probably take too much pleasure in having her soft curves pressed against me. Instead, I choose a more friendly arm-around-the-shoulders approach and enjoy the feel of her leaning into me as we walk up the stone path to the front steps.
“There are radiators in each room. We’ll have to turn them on though. Sorry, but, to start off with, it’s only going to be warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing. I have a local guy swing by every couple of weeks to check on the place. I asked him to bring by a few loads of wood.” We’re on the front porch, and I let go of Holly to pull back a tarp, revealing a generous stack of seasoned firewood.
“Oh, awesome!” Finally, she gives me that gorgeous grin. “I’ve never made a fire before! Can we make one tonight? Please?”
“You’ve never had a fire before?”
She shakes her head. “No. None of the houses I’ve lived in ever had a fireplace.” Holly does a little happy jig that gets me chuckling.
“What a city girl.”
She sticks her tongue out at me as I tsk in mock disappointment.
After unlocking the front door, I navigate with muscle memory alone until I find the first lamp. When I click it on, the interior of the cabin alights in a faint glow. White sheets cover all the pieces of furniture, giving the space a ghostly, abandoned feel.
That’s not going to help Holly’s horror-movie image.
I set down my bag before moving to the couch. As I grab one side, Holly joins me on the other, and together, we uncover the couch, a lounge chair, coffee table, a tiny, round kitchen table along with its two battered chairs, and the bookshelf. There’s an old TV with only a VHS player hooked up to it. The narrow linen closet I store the sheets in is also where I take out multiple quilts.
When I glance back over at Holly, I notice her rubbing her arms despite her bulky sweater.
“Come on. I’ll show you where the heaters are, and we can get them going.”
The one in the main room is already on, so I crank it up. We go to the bathroom next, which is just an add-on to the building with basic white tiles, a stall shower, and a blue toilet and sink.
Grandpa Ben thought it was so funny that the department store sold colorful toilets. Before I started visiting, he didn’t have a bathroom attached to the cabin, settling for an outhouse and washing off in the kitchen sink or a nearby river if it was warm enough. My parents demanded the addition before I could stay the night.
The small radiator gives a cough and shudder before sputtering to life.
“I think I’ll wait for it to heat up before pulling my pants down in there. Sitting on that toilet would be like sticking my butt in the freezer.” Holly shakes her head, an expression of horror on her face.
I snort. “Well, we wouldn’t want to hurt your precious butt, now would we?”
