Once the soup warms, I pour it into a big ceramic mug I find in the cupboard and sip on it as I wander through the cabin. There’s nice-sized living room with two leather armchairs and a couch that is red and green plaid. I pause at two framed photos on a bookcase that is fully stocked with books.
One of the images is of an older couple, gray-haired and smiling in front of this cabin. The other is of a little boy with chocolate brown eyes and his parents, with a lake behind them. It looks like it was taken maybe twenty years ago and I press my finger to the little boy’s face, wondering what became of him.
Before my grandma passed away, I was probably as sweet and innocent as this little boy looks. Then everything changed for me… I wonder if things changed for him too.
Down the small hallway there is a bedroom with a large bed, and across from it there is a bathroom. My shoulders ache with built up tension and I decide to take a shower after I enjoy this soup.
There is a narrow staircase leading to a loft that has three twin-size beds, and there is large storage closet to one side of the stairs. I open it, curious, and find a stack of boxes labeled ‘Christmas.’
I know I have no business being here, playing make-believe. But as I open a box and see dozens of shiny ornaments, I realize that for the first time in a decade, those people who say this is the most wonderful time of year might be onto something. Maybe I can make something wonderful out of this mess after all.Chapter ThreeWhitakerThey say at Christmas all roads lead home and I’ve never felt that sentiment so damn hard.
“You’re seriously just leaving?” Bran asks, standing in the doorway of my office.
“I need a few weeks away from the city,” I tell him. We’ve been business partners for the last five years, and the decision to go has nothing to do with him — Bran’s a good guy… it’s just becoming increasingly clear we want different things. “Look, I need to figure out what I really want is all.”
“The Christmas party is tonight.”
I run a hand over my stubble. “I signed all the Christmas bonus checks. No one is going to miss me.”
Bran frowns. “Melinda’s bringing you a date.”
I shrug. “That is nice of your wife, but I don’t want to date any woman from this city. I’m not interested.”
Bran is already texting Melinda. They’ve been married two years and I admit to envying their relationship in some ways. They are best friends, treat one another well, and appear to want the same thing. Money.
“Christmas Eve is tomorrow,” he says after sending a text. “You really want to deal with airports right now?”
“Last Christmas was my first since my parents passed, Bran. It was hell. I don’t feel like putting on a smile at the party. I need to be alone, sad as that sounds. And I’m not flying anywhere. I’ve got my cabin out in Juniper Junction.” I close my laptop and slide it into my briefcase. I want to get out of the office — for good.
Bran chuckles. “You haven’t been there in years, have you? Thought you sold it.”
“It was my grandfather’s cabin — I couldn’t sell it. And I have good memories out there.” Truth be told, I haven’t been there since my parents died eighteen months ago. Felt like it would remind me of what I lost and I haven’t felt ready to face all that.
“And it has heat and running water?” Bran asks. “Because it’s near freezing out there. We went skiing there last winter and I froze my balls off.”
“Good to know, I’ll pack some wool socks. But yeah, the place has heating and everything. Probably its fair share of cobwebs too. But honestly, it’s what I need right now. I can fix the cabin up and chop some wood and clear my damn head.”
“You’re worrying me a little.” Bran’s eyes narrow as he closes my office door and steps closer to me. “You’re not planning on doing something really stupid, are you? Like sell?”
“I would never screw you over. We’ve been friends since college. But I don’t know man, I don’t really care about the apps anymore. At first it was exciting, getting funding, raising capital. But now we have a shit ton of money and I don’t have the same drive as you. You know my heart has never been in it.”
“But we just sold DinnerWin,” he says. “We’re about to go public with SuperEat. It should be the time of our lives.”
“You’re right,” I say. “It should.”
“We can pivot,” Bran says. “We can move away from food service apps and start something that does interest you. Like…” he looks around my office, his eyes landing on my TBR pile. “Books. You’re always reading.”