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He glances over at me multiple times as he squirms in his seat.
I roll my eyes. He’s much easier to mess with now.
Guilt is one of the worst feelings you can have, and I’ve been feeling a whole lot of it lately. Even before seeing Sean again, but currently I feel a pit rising in my stomach. Maybe it’s just nostalgia creeping in, but I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. Nostalgia is a bitch like that.
“Tell me more about you,” I ask, distracting myself. “What has the last nine years been like for you?”
He keeps his eyes on the road, thinking for a moment.
“It’s been fine.”
I don’t accept fine as an answer.
He can feel my unsatisfied energy because he adds more.
“I obviously served in the army. I originally had the com-mitment of only two years, but I ended up serving six. I was in Iraq for a while, actually.”
I slide my legs up onto the seat, trying to be as attentive as possible. I want to take it all in.
“Iraq, really?”
His eyes hover over me, squirming and getting uncomfortable in his seat again. He sits up straighter and I can see his throat move up and down, gulping.
“Yeah, for over a year. It’s pretty bad over there, it’s what made me want to quit. That’s why I only did the six years. I thought about going longer, but I just couldn’t.”
He doesn’t seem like he wants to talk details, so I don’t push him. “Well, six years is still a long time. It’s great that you did it,” I assure him as he keeps his eyes peeled on the road.
◆◆◆
Sean pulls onto the gravel road leading to the cabin’s driveway. The entire house is made of logs, with a forest green tin roof covered in moss. I can hear the river flowing behind it, even while I’m still in the car. It’s that close.
When I step out, it’s beginning to feel more like a Lakewood November evening.
Cold and damp.
“I’m going to get a fire going. You can head inside to stay warm. I’ll get you when everything’s set up,” he tells me, grazing my arm as he helps me place my bag over my shoulder.
He clears his throat and turns to walk toward a small open shed full of chopped wood.
When I open the front door, I’m hit with more cool air. The thermostat stands out against the wood walls and I hit the red heat button and turn it up to seventy.
A large fireplace takes up the living room with stone work all around it. They have two rocking chairs that look ancient, with pale green cushions damaged from the sun. The whole decorative theme is clearly green and camping. Signs hang everywhere with quotes about the outdoors. It looks like an IKEA threw up in here.
One reads, Life is better at the cabin.
The kitchen has a large flat top, perfect for cooking big meals. The granite counters look shiny and new. Just over the kitchen sink, you get a perfect view of the river from the small window.
Beside the kitchen entrance is a sliding glass door leading to the balcony. I gently open the door that’s old and heavy. I slide it just enough for me to step out.
The river rapids are moving fast, gushing water onto the rocks at the clearing. The sound of the water rushing is so peaceful. The cabin is completely surrounded by fir trees, and the other side of the river is also covered in forest.
This is exactly what I've been looking forward to since leaving the city. A perfect Pacific Northwest view. I walk to the edge of the balcony and I can’t get over how gorgeous it is. New York could never give me this feeling.
It’s strange, I never felt homesick when I moved to Brooklyn. Not until last year. I rarely even thought about Lakewood. I was always so good at pushing the past behind me and ignoring it. But when everything fell apart, it was the only place I could escape to.
A small crash comes from my right side, and I carefully poke my head over the railing.
Sean’s throwing wood into the large brick fire pit. His shoulders look so broad from above. He still works out, no doubt about that. I stare for far too long, with too much enjoyment.
