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Dillon and Macy introduced themselves, and we made some introductory chitchat.
“Is the road very busy?” Macy asked, eyeing the break in the trees.
“No,” the landlord assured us. “This isn’t as remote as some other cabins in the area, but I assure you, it is private enough.”
“What about utilities?” I asked.
“Power, water, heat, you can pay directly.” He turned to unlock the door. “Trash I cover.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
We stepped into the front room, a space large enough for a set of couches and a television. Through an archway, the kitchen sat snugly at the back of the house. It was tight but functional. I wouldn’t be serving any banquets in this house, but it could work for my day-to-day needs. A short hallway led to three doors, a bathroom and two small bedrooms. We checked each of them out by turns.
The shower left something to be desired. It was a simple plastic stall with just enough room to stand. There was no tub for luxuriating and only one sink. Still, if I was living here alone, it would be all that I needed. I thought I could turn one of the bedrooms into a guest room or a playroom for Nicky and Daisy if they came to visit. Or I could purchase a cheap exercise bike or a treadmill and make it into a home gym. The possibilities were endless.
“It has a finished basement that is pretty spacious,” the homeowner announced, leading us back to the kitchen. A door beside the refrigerator led to a set of stairs. The entire family trooped down to find a room the length and width of the entire house. It was newly carpeted, with a dry bar at one end. I could imagine wild parties in this room, big enough to fit a dozen people comfortably. I decided right then that I would put forth my best effort to secure the home for myself.
I cornered the landlord in the kitchen. “I like it,” I said. “What are my next steps?”
“Well, I have this other party who is also interested.” He hesitated. “You could fill out an application, and I could get started checking references.”
“Great,” I said.
He went back to his truck to get the paperwork, leaving me alone in the house with Macy and her family. I could just imagine having them all over for dinner one night, the kids playing downstairs, Macy and I enjoying a glass of wine in the living room. This beat my old, cramped apartment in Austin, hands down. I filled out the application on the clipboard the owner gave me, signing over consent to run a credit check and call my old apartment complex. I thought I had a good shot at getting it. I had a job and a job history. I had never been late on any rent payments or given my other landlords any trouble. I knew I would be a wonderful tenant, if given the chance.
We thanked the property owner and got back in our cars. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I really wanted that little house. It was perfect for one person and a big step up from city life. I would have to get a car, but that could wait until I signed the lease. Things were finally moving; I felt like I was claiming my life back. No more waiting for other people to help me out or come to my rescue. I was going to be my own woman, with a home and a car, and maybe even a new guy.
I didn’t want to consider how far things had come with Mike in such a small amount of time. It wasn’t scary at all because it felt like I was coming home. I knew him, without a doubt in my mind, I knew exactly who he was. And I knew he felt the same. Whatever was happening between us was real, and I was excited to see it grow. I couldn’t wait to tell him all about the cabin and hoped that our next date could be in that basement rec room, just the two of us at the bar.
13
MIKE
Ididn’t know what had gotten into me, except that talking to Tammy had given me some perspective on my life. She was so young to have lost both her parents, and in such a tragic accident. I set aside my frustrations with my own family and jogged downstairs to join them for breakfast.
My mom was shocked. “What are you doing here?”
I grinned, kissing her on her forehead. “Just wanted to spend some time with my mom.”
She grumbled a little, but I could see she was pleased. “I can make some pancakes if you like.”
“Pancakes sound good,” I said, plopping into a seat. “I took a look at a cabin for rent yesterday.”
“A cabin?” She almost dropped the flour, before she caught it and set it down on the counter. “Why do you want to move into a cabin?”
I shrugged. “It would be private. It’s really nice. I put in an application—I’m waiting to hear from the guy.”
“Why do you need privacy?” asked my mom, who’d spent her entire adult life living behind a lumberyard.
I wasn’t sure how to explain. My phone rang, saving me from the conversation.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice began.
“Hi,” I responded.
“Mike Newbury?”
“Yes.”
