He carried me to the passenger side of the car. “In you go.” He dropped me in the seat and closed the door.
I waited for him to slide in behind the wheel. He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. We have to celebrate. Here, or do you want to head home?”
I was too giddy to latch on to either idea.
“You decide.”
He pulled out of the parking lot. “I think I know the perfect spot.”
He started driving west and I guessed we were headed back to our apartment. Since moving in together five months ago, Sam and I had been through our share of challenges.
There’s nothing easy about moving in with someone, no matter how much you love them. We both discovered that the hard way. I was used to quiet, while Sam seemed to revel in the noise of football games and rock music.
He wasn’t wrong about being an amazing cook, but he never mentioned that he didn’t clean the kitchen after he prepared a delicious meal. I don’t think I ever told him about my extensive fingernail polish collection that took up two drawers in the bathroom.
But we figured it out. We learned how to move around each other, and to move together when it was right. I loved what we had. I loved the studio he built for me. I loved sharing a home with him, a bed, a life.
I looked up from my phone. “Wait, a minute. Is this?” I recognized the turn off road he had taken.
“What do you think it is?”
I chewed my bottom lip. “What if they don’t have a cabin? What if it’s booked?”
He looked at me over his sunglasses. “Darlin’, it’s March. I don’t think anyone is tubing down the Guadalupe right now. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.”
The gravel crunched under the tires as he parked under the same scrubby oak tree. I looked over at Cottage 11.
“Wait? Did you already plan something?” I was suspicious. He had driven past the reservation office.
He shrugged. “Let’s see.”
I closed the door behind me and looked out over the lake. It was a gorgeous spring day, but the sun was setting on the edge of the lake and the hues of deep orange and pink were stunning.
“Look at this, Sam.”
He circled the car and took my hand. “It didn’t look like that last time we were here, did it?”
“No. I left in the morning. It seems even more amazing now.”
“I’ll grab the bags from the back.”
“Would you mind if I made a quick call out here?”
He opened the trunk. “I’ll get these inside. Take your time.”
I pulled out my phone. There was one person I needed to tell about what happened today. I scrolled through my contacts and tapped her number. I knew with the time difference I was calling late, but I hoped she would answer.
“Hello?”
I smiled when I heard her voice.
“Madame Collette, it’s Natalia.”
“Natalia, my dear. It’s so late. Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you. I had news I wanted to share with you.”
“Ma chérie, it’s good to hear your voice. It’s never too late.”