Chapter 4
Willow
Ihate him, I hate the way he looked at me like I was his salvation, and I hate this stupid dusty cabin.
It smells stale and dirty all at the same time.
It looks like no one has resided here in years.
If this is what he considers livable, I am seriously dreading what the other cabins will look like.
That reminds me, I’m going to need to coordinate time for someone to take me on a tour of the cabins.
But I think I’ll tackle some office tasks first and let myself get my bearings because being back here on this ranch brings back way too many memories. Memories that now feel jaded and wrong.
I made the rookie mistake of assuming I could use my old room and that Grandpa would be able to host me, so I was going to surprise him.
Which I did, he was very surprised and when he gave me a tour of the house, I realized there was no way in hell that staying in that room was going to work.
It’s now home to every single thing he doesn’t need, but refuses to get rid of.
I’m sure you can find the Christmas ornament I made him in kindergarten there if you did enough digging in the totes and cardboard boxes.
I didn’t want him to feel bad, so I told him that work was providing lodging. ’
My grandpa has done everything for me my whole life, and I don't want to make him do anything more, so I’m going to make this work.
I grew up playing in dirt and loved living in the country, but that’s not who I am anymore.
That version of me died the night Weston broke my heart and I don’t think I can see her making a comeback.
Sometimes I miss that version of me. The version that trusted freely, even after everything I had been through as a kid.
I blindly trusted that man with my heart. I’ll never be that foolish again.
My heart is mine and I only give bits and pieces of it away now, preventing anyone from getting too close. Josh is the most I have let anyone in since, and I guess it was just luck that he was satisfied with the pieces I was willing to give to him.
My thoughts have me spiraling, which is usually when I work.
While I would love to get started on work right now, it looks like I’m going to need to make a trip to town to get some cleaning supplies because there is no way in hell am I sleeping in this crumbling cabin without a whole bottle of bleach and a good hearty dusting and sweeping.
I cannot believe he thinks so little of me that he would put me in a place like this and call it livable.
I had a moment of hope when it seemed like my Weston was still there, hearing him talk about his dad brought a smile to my lips, but maybe the old Weston was just as good at lying as he is now.
Being sweet, only to leave you face first in the dirt.
I look around and take stock of everything here.
It’s small, but when the work is done, I’m confident we can transform the cabin into a charming space that will bring flocks of customers here.
The kitchen is directly to the left of the front door and is in an L-shape against the wall of the cabin.
The dining room, which is just a small round table and two chairs with some cabinets behind it, sits connected to the kitchen.
The living room is right of the front door.
I walk past the dining room and see a small closet with a broom, a dustpan, and a trash can in it, all coated in a thick layer of dust. Lovely.
The bathroom leaves a lot to be desired, it has a stand-up shower, the world's smallest vanity and a toilet that hopefully is in working condition.
I turn the outdated, gold knob and see brown water jet out of the faucet.
“You have got to be kidding me.” I wonder how long it's been since water has been ran here. I leave the faucet going, trying to clear up the water, and peek into the bedroom, stopping dead in my tracks.
There is a bed, alright, but no mattress.
I run my hands through my hair as frustration bleeds out of me.
I look around at my new room. There’s no bedside tables or dressers.
Just a frame. My rage boils up inside me to the point where I feel like I might combust. What an ass.
I was so nervous to see him again that I wasted so much time, constantly wondering about him and his life now.
Before the breakup and after. I missed him so deeply it felt like my heart was physically breaking, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and I’ll be damned if I make the mistake of trusting him again.
Well, I guess I will be adding a blow-up mattress to my shopping list, along with water, because there is no way in hell I will be drinking from that faucet until that water is tested by someone a hell of a lot more qualified than me.
Sweat drips down my brow, and I scrub the last bit of dust off the counter.
It has been hours, hours that should have been spent working, but here we are.
Sweaty, smelly, but at least this place is livable…
ish. The water is running clear now. It only took an hour of running it nonstop, but at least now I should be able to shower, which is good because I smell like freshly boiled onions.
The only thing keeping me alive is the coffee I grabbed while in town.
I had to dodge not one, but two of my old classmates.
Dealing with people while I feel so…discombobulated takes more energy than I am willing to give.
My high school English teacher, Mr. Warren, is now the cashier.
Apparently, he got bored with retirement.
I didn’t even have to ask. He gave me a vivid, unprompted retelling of the last twelve years of his life.
No one randomly talks to you like that in New York, at least not anywhere I have been. They’ll answer questions, sure, but not give you a PowerPoint on how their life has led them to that exact spot.
Now that all my housework is done, I should call Josh. We spoke briefly when I landed, and he said he would call me back as soon as he could, but it’s now Ten PM in New York. I track down my phone by following the music blasting from it, and press pause before dialing his number.
It rings and rings until finally, he picks up. “Hello?” His voice sounds like I just woke him up.
“Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah, I went to bed an hour ago. I texted you goodnight.” He sounds almost annoyed.
“Oh, sorry, I was, erm, working. I haven’t checked my texts.
” I don’t think I want to tell him the extent of the situation.
He knows I’m working on the ranch and he knows Weston is my ex from high school.
He’s probably assuming Weston meant nothing because I never brought him up before.
At least that’s the only thing I could come up with for how nonchalant he’s been about the whole thing.
“It’s fine. Did you need something?”
I didn’t need anything, I just wanted to hear his voice and fill him in on some of my day, but I guess I can just do that another time. I know he’s strict about his sleep schedule. “Nope, just was calling to check in. You can call me back tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”
I go to reply, but the other end of the line goes dead. I pull the phone away from my ear to see our phone call information coming across the screen. Thirty-two whole seconds of talking. And not even an I love you but he’s probably just tired from work. I know my brain is fried.
Guess it’s time to see what this blow-up mattress can do.