Page 8 of Pink and Country

“G irl, I’m in the middle of nowhere. The GPS is worthless,” I said, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. “I’m driving around in circles. These roads lead nowhere. The GPS screen is a jumble of purple and white roads. My pantry is less messy, can you imagine? One moment I’m facing a cliff on a dead-end road, and the next I’m stuck in a labyrinth with no exit. Even the satellite is lost. Tell me again why I agreed to this.”

“Relax, Bubble Head. Follow my directions, and you’ll get there. I get it. It’s trickier in the dark, but I’ll assist you. You’re lucky it hasn’t snowed yet.” Bubble Head was the nickname Saunders gave me during our freshman year in college when I was in too many committees and projects during our first semester. Lacking time to hang out with my friends, I told Saunders one night I pictured myself as a cartoon character with text bubbles popping all around my head. The name stuck all these years later.

“Snow?” I repeated my friend’s word. I sat upright, scanning the pitch-black mountain road as if a bucket-load of snowflakes would fall any second from the sky right in my path. “I’ve been on the road for eight hours. It’s late and I’m tired. Tell me you’re joking.”

“S-N-O-W, snow. You know, the little white dust winter gods sprinkle on Earth during the cold months. I’ve heard it’s quite common in the mountains at this time of the year.” I sighed through clenched teeth. “Relax, April. You’ll be fine. Don’t panic over some sparkling white powder.”

I rolled my eyes. “I love snow. But it looks better on postcards, puzzles, or in Christmas movies.” My best friend chuckled, and I joined in.

Laughing relieved some of the tension in my strained back.

“Okay, I’m at the corner of Bear Crescent and Eagle Lane. Next thing I know I’ll be on Weasel Boulevard. Who’s giving these streets their names?”

Saunders sighed on the other end of the line. “April, please focus. Stay on Eagle Lane up to Mountain Road. It should be about half a mile further on your right. Be careful, there’s a sharp turn ahead.”

“Those roads are too shallow. Even for Miss Dolly. Tell me again why rich people vacation here? It’s not safe. Don’t be surprised if I drive down a cliff. Please, pick a nice casket.”

“Stop whining. Your car—Miss Dolly—is full of food, so you won’t have to go out too much. I’m still confused you named your car. Anyway, once you’ll see the cabin, you’ll never want to come back home.”

“I doubt it. Remember, you’re lucky I still trust you, Saund.” I cursed under my breath as I carefully took the almost one-hundred-eighty-degree turn mountainside. “The last time I did, I ended up on a date with a podiatrist who had some foot fetish and asked me at least twenty times to show him my toes during dinner.” I winced at the memory.

“There are no feet involved this time, and it’s cold, so no one will beg you to strip off your shoes. You’re safe.”

I grumbled something under my breath.

“Okay, I see Mountain Road.”

“Great, you’re almost there. Make a turn right. Tell me when you see the gate.”

“Gate? As in I’ll be living in a gated community? In the middle of nowhere? Are you making fun of me?”

“Relax, girl. Blimey, I told you already. It’s safe, and the view is to kill for. You’ll thank me later and dedicate your new book to your super-extraordinary best friend. Be real, you know I’m the most amazing girlfriend in the world.” Saunders clapped her hands together on the other end of the line, sounding a lot more enthusiastic about the entire trip than I was at the moment.

What did I get myself into?

I steadied my breathing and reminded myself why I agreed to come here.

Mountain air.

Creative environment.

Free rent.

Hope for something new.

“What’s the code?”

Saunders laughed, her attention not on me. She whispered something, and my cheeks flushed. Ohmygod, I interrupted a fuck session when I called her in panic. If only I could lash myself. Not lash, ugh. Bad choice of words. No BDSM reference when my two best friends were fucking. Please… no... If only I could kick myself. There. Better.

“Saunders, I’ll let you go back to your fuck marathon if you give me the code.”

She giggled and brought her focus back on me. “Four-two-six-eight-five. Use your phone to unlock the cabin. I’ve already set up the digital key for you.”

“Wait, what?”

“This morning, I added the digital key to your phone. You lock and unlock the front door with your phone. It’s super easy, you’ll see.”

“Thanks,” I said, stretching my word longer than I intended to.