The Cabin - Jasinda Wilder Page 0,52

fed, caffeinated, jobless, with all my clothes packed in the trunk and back seat of my little red A5. All the lights in my house were off. The garage was empty. The doors were locked.

It felt like I was going on a vacation…alone. It felt weird.

I’d said goodbye to Tess, hugged her at least four times, and then she physically shoved me in the car, leaned into the passenger door and input the address for me in the nav system, pressed “GO,” and kissed me on the temple.

“Next time I see you, you’re gonna be a different person, right?” She palmed my cheek.

“Yeah.”

“You have to invest in the process, Nads. Okay?”

“I will.” I booped her nose. “Get some good dick for me.”

“Oh, I’m getting all the good dick. I might even keep one, someday.”

I laughed. “And the rest of the man attached to it, I hope.”

“Maybe. If he’s nice enough.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Bye, Nads. Drive safe.”

“Bye, Tess-icles, I will. Thank you.”

“Don’t call me when you get there. Don’t text. Just turn your phone off, leave it in the car. If I hear from you, it’s because something went horribly wrong. So I don’t want to hear from you. Okay?”

“I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

She exited the car, closed the door, and stepped back onto my lawn. Waved.

And I drove away.

Next stop?

The cabin.

Resurrection

I’ve been here two weeks. It’s boring, sometimes, but that’s good. Boring is good. I’ve carved a bunch of new pieces, a squirrel, a raccoon, a cardinal, a moose, a little clutch of field mice. I sit and drink coffee on the porch in the morning, sip whiskey at night. Never more than one, because for once I’m not trying to escape.

I’ve cried a bunch. It was embarrassing at first. I’m a man’s man, raised by a man’s man. I drink whiskey and punch sissies, and only sissies cry. But Dad died lonely and bitter, of cirrhosis and misery.

Fuck that noise.

The first time I was sitting on the dock, toes in the water, drinking a beer, it just…hit me. I missed Lisa. Missed her laugh and her voice and her soft curves. And my eyes stung, my nose itched, and then I just couldn’t stop it. And hell, I was alone, right? No one to see, so I just let it go.

And you know what? It felt good, in a weird way. Like I’d been holding it in all these years.

After that, I was as emotional as…well, the only comparisons that come to mind are probably sexist and shitty, so skip ’em. I cried a lot. Just sat around and let myself cry for…me.

I’ve fished. Caught a few lake trout, mostly just tossed ’em back.

Read books—turns out there’s a library next town over, and I got myself a card and checked out some fiction. Westerns, mostly. Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour, Larry McMurtry. Some historical stuff, a couple biographies.

Mostly, though, I whittle and I carve.

And I wonder about that cabin down the way.

Just sitting there empty, and it feels ominous.

I know I should be reading Adrian’s book, but I just can’t. I dunno why. I’m not ready for it. I have to…let the bats in the belfry of my soul air out a bit, so to speak.

I can’t fathom why Adrian gave me this place, what his greater purpose was, but I’m goddamn thankful. I was suffocating, I’m starting to realize. Wearing a path in the floor of life, pacing back and forth from work to the bottle to work to the bottle, rarely even engaging in conversation with anyone beyond idle chitchat, and I ain’t got time for that most of the time. Well, patience is what I lack, more than time, but still.

I needed this.

I’m starting to breathe, a little, finally.

Four in the afternoon. I’m on the porch, sipping an IPA, reading Lonesome Gods. I hear tires on gravel, a car motor. Squeal of brakes that need a tune-up. Glance left, and there’s a little red convertible pulling up on the far side of the other cabin. The top is back, and I get a glimpse of black hair.

The engine shuts off, and there’s a while of silence, followed by the car door opening…closing. I can make out the nose of the car, some of the windshield, and some of the front seat. A tall, slender figure emerges around the front of the cabin. A woman.

She’s wearing black leggings, colorful sneakers, and a baggy gray sweatshirt hanging low on one shoulder. Her hair is long and black, loose around