When she remains motionless, I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her close. “I’ve really missed this place.” Now that I’m standing inside the cabin, taking in my surroundings, I realize just how true the sentiment is. I stayed away because I thought it would be too painful to return without my father. It’s only now that I wonder if I didn’t inflict more damage by not digging deep and finding the courage to return sooner.
Dad’s presence is everywhere. In every detail of the craftsmanship. I never expected it to feel like balm for the soul. In fact, I had prepared myself for the opposite.
“Are you ready for the grand tour?”
“Yup, I want to see it all,” she says lightly.
After spending the last few days worried that I’d made a mistake, everything now feels buoyant. There’s a lightness that fills the atmosphere. The smile Sydney showers me with says that she feels the shift in energy as well.
With my fingers clasped around hers, I tug her through the first floor. The kitchen, with its stainless-steel appliances and massive granite island, is our first stop. Mom mentioned that the refrigerator would be fully stocked for the weekend. I open the door and find enough food to feed a small army. I’m sure the neighbors brought over groceries so we wouldn’t have to run to the store. There’s a large dining room on the other side of the kitchen with views of the forest. We peek in the master suite before jogging up the staircase to the second floor and arriving at a loft that overlooks the family room. There’s an overstuffed couch that we used to hang out on and watch movies. I have so many fond memories of my sister and me sprawled out on the carpeted floor, playing board games while Mom puttered around in the kitchen, making dinner or baking chocolate chip cookies.
Down the wide stretch of hallway are four spacious bedrooms, each with their own en suite. Mine is the first door on the right. I pull Sydney inside and glance around the space. The walls are painted a dark blue and there’s a thick, plaid comforter covering the queen-sized bed. The decor is outdoorsy and fits with the theme of the cabin. A heavy wave of nostalgia crashes over me as I stare at what I’ve always considered my second bedroom. It all looks and feels the same as it did when I was a kid. In the summers, my parents allowed us to bring friends for a week or so. Carson has been here dozens of times, but inviting a girl is a new experience. I’ve never liked anyone enough to want to share this place with them.
As I drop my bag on the bed, Sydney does the same. I step closer and take her into my arms before pressing a kiss against the crown of her head.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.
She tilts her chin until our gazes can lock and hold. “Me, too.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, we hold hands and tromp through the woods, spotting a couple of deer before they disappear through the underbrush. The forest is teeming with life. Birds chirp overhead, squirrels chatter in the trees, and larger animals crunch leaves beneath their feet in the distance. I’ve missed the property so much, and it feels good to share it all with Sydney. Everything my dad taught me about the forest as well as the memories. Instead of being filled with sorrow and grief, I actually feel lighter talking about him. I haven’t done that in a long time. Once the floodgates open, it’s almost impossible to close them. Sydney listens attentively, only asking questions every once in a while. It’s like she understands that I need to get the words out and she quietly allows me to do that.
Our hands remain clasped as we walk along the water’s edge. Even though the weather has turned cooler, there are still swarms of fish at the end of the dock where the sun warms the water.
Now that I’ve ripped off the Band-Aid and it hasn’t turned out to be as painful as I anticipated, I can imagine returning here more often. I like getting Sydney away from campus. She’s more relaxed and easygoing in this environment.
When seven o’clock rolls around, we’re both famished from our explorations. We search through the fridge and cabinets and find everything we need to make spaghetti. It’s something simple yet filling. She boils the water and takes charge of the noodles and garlic bread. I man the sauce and make the salads.
The relaxed way we move around the kitchen feels like we’ve done this hundreds of times before. There’s a natural camaraderie between us that I’ve never experienced with anyone else.