Pull You In (Rivers Brothers #3) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,4
grabbed one extra book-a romance, but not one of the ones with the half-naked men or embracing couples on the cover, shoving it into my carry-on, then grabbing my suitcases, and heading down.
My mother had always been lovely. There was no other word that seemed to adequately describe her. She wasn't stunning or stop-you-in-your-tracks beautiful, but there had always been something about her warm brown eyes, her generous mouth prone to smiling, about the honey highlights in her brown hair, in the subtle curves of her thin body. She looked, dressed, and acted as the sweet, caring, loving kindergarten teacher that she was.
Today, she was dressed in a floor-skirting off-white linen skirt with a subtle pattern of birds in a golden brown color that matched her roomy sweater she wore up top.
I didn't get much of my mother's loveliness, her open, animated nature, or her fashion sense. Clearly. Since I was wearing wide-leg black pants and a graphic tee under an oversize white cardigan.
"Dressing in layers was smart," she told me as she helped me get my luggage in the trunk of her hatchback. "You can never tell if you are going to be too hot or too cold on a flight."
Though, to be fair, I was always cold. As was she. It was one of the few traits I had inherited from her.
"You ready?" she asked, slamming the trunk.
"Yes. No. I don't know."
"Hey, but you're doing it. That's the important thing. I think this is the perfect kind of vacation for you. Calm, quiet, with only people you are close with around. It's going to be great. I'm kind of envious. If you like it, maybe we can go back for a vacation together someday. Though, let's face it, neither of us are all that outdoorsy, so if it entails cutting our own firewood or something like that, I think we can find somewhere else just as cozy."
The hour-long ride was full of small talk which was my mother's somewhat obvious attempt to keep my mind from racing in too many directions, that would eventually leave me begging her to turn the car around and take me home instead.
In the end, she got me to the airport, and I managed to get myself through security and into my seat—by the window, thank goodness—without any problems or any more anxiety than I'd already anticipated.
I made the next seven hours slip away by my book, before resorting to daydreaming, thinking about what might be in store for all of us when we got there.
Would we do cheesy trust-falls like I'd seen in the movies? Blindfold each other and be led through the woods in blindness? Would someone set up hundreds of cups filled with liquid on the ground, cover our eyes, and have our teams navigate us through the makeshift minefield?
And after all those trust-building exercises were completed, how would everyone want to spend their time? Would there be group activities? Canoeing on the lake? Long hikes through the woods? Binge-drinking and getting crazy?
I had no idea.
Usually the not-knowing was enough to send me into a tailspin, leaving me fidgety and anxious.
But, I reminded myself as the plane descended, I wasn't going to let my mind run away with itself. This was going to be a fun trip with people I already knew I liked and was comfortable with. Whatever we all ended up doing, I was sure it would be fun. And I could always fake some sort of injury to prevent myself from being dragged to do something truly torturous like group exercise.
I navigated my way through the airport after arriving, getting my bags, and making my way to the car rental area where I picked up the car Fiona had reserved for me.
After I got the car loaded and sat down in the driver's seat, I took my first real, deep breath since I left New Jersey.
The hard part was over.
Judging by my GPS, it was a solid two and a half to two-hour drive, depending on traffic to get from the airport to the cabin. Which gave me just enough time to decompress from the whole flying thing.
Once I was outside of the city where the airport was located, the landscape got more and more rural until all there was to be seen were trees and hills and a narrow two-lane road leading out to the middle of nowhere.
About twenty minutes from the actual destination, my wifi cut out, making me really thankful I had taken a