Chapter 1 #2
I flailed around like a drunk at a dance party, trying to shake off the strands of spider silk while Miranda cackled behind me.
By the time I’d fought my way free, she’d wound down to an ugly snort.
Emily stood next to her, biting her lips and doing her best not to join in, but her shoulders were shaking with the effort.
“Go ahead and laugh,” I said, running a hand through my hair to dislodge the stray bits of web, “but remember, somewhere in this cabin is the spider that built that thing. So good luck with that.”
Miranda shrugged, stepping past me. “Emily will hunt it down, won’t you, babes? She’s my protector.” She sent her girlfriend a look that was nothing short of adoring, and it made my heart twist with what might have been envy.
It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me like that.
I brushed some more loose cobwebs from somewhere near my ear and pushed the thought away. I had a solid career, a good reputation, and a comfortable life. Wasn’t that what was important? Romance was for the young, or maybe the foolish, and I was neither of those things.
Maybe once, but not anymore.
I sucked in a deep breath and followed Miranda inside.
The cabin was just like I remembered— a single open-plan living area that held a soft, battered leather couch, a coffee table and an old TV, a small kitchen tucked away in one corner, and two doors that led to the bathroom and the bedroom.
There was also a sliding door that led out back to the deck, where a set of rusted patio furniture sat.
The floor and the furniture were covered in a fine layer of dust, but other than that it seemed like everything was in decent condition.
A quick check confirmed that the hot water and electricity were working and the faucet in the kitchen ran clear, so we went back outside and grabbed the girls’ bags and brought them inside.
When I walked into the bedroom, I wasn’t prepared for the sight of the same worn, hand-stitched quilt that had been here the last time I’d stayed. My chest tightened, and I turned away before the memories I’d spent so many years keeping at bay could overtake me.
“Oh wow, look at that view!” Miranda said in hushed tones.
I followed her gaze to the double glass doors that made up one wall of the bedroom and looked out over the cabin’s private lakefront.
The sight really was spectacular. The early morning sunlight made the surface of the water gleam and shimmer like diamonds, a shining contrast to the trees that crowded along the edge of the lake.
I walked over and slid the door open, stepping outside.
The warm air washed over me and I breathed in deeply, inhaling the long-forgotten scent of pine and sweet gum and listening to the water lapping gently at the shore.
Everything looked just like I remembered, with one exception. On the other side of the lake, where there had once been nothing but bare shoreline, someone had built another small cabin. I guessed things did change in Goose Run after all.
“This is amazing. Why don’t you come and stay here?” Miranda asked as she stepped out onto the deck next to me, Emily following her. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Time, mainly,” I said. It wasn’t the whole story, but it was as much as I was prepared to share.
Miranda shot me an unimpressed look, so before she could launch into the same “work/life balance is important, Uncle Granger” speech that she’d been throwing at me for the last couple of years, I added, “That, and there really is nothing in Goose Run.”
“What’s an Adventurama?” Emily asked, holding up her phone. “Because whatever it is, Goose Run has one.”
Miranda peered over her shoulder and scrunched up her nose. “One and a half stars. But they do have a three-legged dog. I’d go just for that.” She turned pleading eyes on me. “It’s a half-hour walk into town. You’ll drive us there, right?”
“I was planning on it,” I said. Goose Run was a backwater, and there was no way I intended to let two college-aged girls walk into town alone. I was wary of the sort of people they might run into, Pride parade or not.
Miranda beamed at me. “You’re the best, Uncle Grange.”
I winced. “No, absolutely not.”
Miranda flashed me a bright smile. “Okay… Granger.”
I decided I could live with it.
I just hoped Miranda was prepared to be disappointed by Goose Run.
Except when we actually drove into the town, nothing at all was like I remembered.
As we drove back toward the center of town, there was a change in our surroundings.
Instead of unkempt yards and rusted-out car bodies, there were picket fences and flower beds.
There were houses with freshly painted trim, and others had fresh-cut grass and real estate signs with SOLD stickers in the front yard.
I had plenty of time to look because traffic had slowed to a crawl—and since when had Goose Run even had traffic?
But there was a line of cars in front of us as we crept along Main Street, and we ended up having to park at the other end of the street on someone’s lawn and walk back.
Main Street was crowded, and the atmosphere was bright and cheerful.
Rainbow flags and bunting hung from every conceivable street sign, lamppost, and storefront.
And there were storefronts. The last time I’d been in Goose Run, at least every second store had been boarded up.
Now I saw a diner, a thrift store, a bakery, and even what looked to be a little gift shop.
A sign out front informed me it was a cooperative that supported local artists.
Goose Run had local artists?
In addition to the permanent stores, today Main Street was full of coffee carts and stalls and brightly colored food trucks that stretched all the way from the park to the church.
And both sides of the street were packed with people, most of them wearing some variation of the rainbow.
A big burly guy who looked like he owned at least two monster trucks and three tattoo guns had Free Dad Hugs emblazoned across his T-shirt, and my eyes stung when a woman approached him for one.
Music blared from speakers, people laughed and danced, and just for now, the world felt like a bright and wonderful place.
It was everything Miranda and Emily had wanted from Goose Run, and nothing like I’d thought they’d get.
And for me, it felt a little like arriving at a party I hadn’t even realized I’d always been invited to.
It hurt in ways I didn’t want to dig into too deeply, because that would involve admitting that I’d inflicted the pain on myself, and I wasn’t sure I could do that and keep smiling.
We became part of a bottleneck of people near the bakery.
“Sorry,” said a guy who ran into the back of Miranda.
“Sorry!” chirped the little girl with the rainbow face paint whose hand he was holding.
“Is this the line for the bakery?” the guy asked, craning his head to see.
“I think so,” Miranda said. “It’s kind of hard to tell.”
I removed myself from what was possibly the line, indicating that the girls could find me a little farther down the street when they were ready.
I caught some breathing space at a little arts and crafts stall and found myself looking at a selection of enamel Pride pins and wondering idly what kind of reaction I’d get in the office if I turned up one morning with one of them attached to my lapel—and how quickly rumors would spread throughout my professional circles.
The goose with the rainbow flag was fun, though.