2. True
I didn’t stay with my grandparents for a week.
I stayed for two.
And to put it simply, I had zero regrets.
As much as I hated to admit it, I hadn’t wanted to spend my first few nights here alone. I just wanted to be surrounded by people who treated me normal. And that’s what my grandparents gave me.
Every morning, I got up and helped my grandma get her truck ready for the drive to the farm, so she could pick up the fruit she’d sell in town that day.
Every afternoon, I sat with my granddaddy on the porch and did word searches while he read the paper.
Every night, I got a home-cooked meal and cuddles with Lady.
Two weekends in a row I’d let my grandmother spike my lemonade with moonshine. And two weekends in a row I’d had the time of my life.
My grandparents’ house was open to everybody, and somebody was always around without it feeling overwhelming.
The slow living was everything I needed to get my dysregulated nervous system back on track.
Two weeks of quality time with my favorite people hadn’t undone a year of chaos, but I finally felt like I was on the right track.
Now, I was driving to the cabin, my car loaded down with groceries and all the clothes I’d packed in the spur of the moment before leaving King’s Town.
Camryn groaned as I made the climb up the mountain, a sound from the right side of the hood that had been growing more and more frequent.
“Please just get me up this mountain and I promise not to bother you for at least a month.”
The groan persisted, but with my foot on the gas and a prayer on my lips, I made the steep climb up Bliss Mountain. It felt like I was moving at a crawl even though my speedometer read forty-five miles per hour.
I kept my eyes trained ahead, knowing that if I looked in my rear mirror, I’d see a drop behind me steep enough to make my stomach plummet.
A few engine sputters later, I’d made my ascent and exhaled, placing my right hand over my chest. My heart knocked like I’d just run a damn mile in sixty seconds.
With a grimace, I patted Camryn’s dashboard again and continued my drive.
I could afford a new car, but a new car didn’t hold the sentimental value Camryn did. I’d been through everything in this car. I’d made it through undergrad in this car. I hit publish on my first novel in this car. I’d sped through the streets of King’s Town that night to my sister’s apartment in this car…
With a gulp, I redirected my thoughts and focused on the stunning resort coming into view now that the road had widened from two lanes to four.
Wolfe Summit Ski Resort.
I whistled lowly as I drove by, checking that no one was behind me as I craned my neck to take in the expansive grounds. The lodge itself looked modest as far as luxury ski resorts went, but it was the land around it that caught my attention.
Acres upon acres of land stretched on, designated to the different outdoor activities they offered aside from skiing.
I drove for a full minute before the forest marked the edge of the property line. And even then, I knew they had dibs on some of that land too. My parents had visited two years ago when it opened and couldn’t stop raving about the suspended bridge excursion in the forest.
Turning my full attention back to the road in front of me, I accelerated and kept driving until I got to my turn off.
Whimsy Lane.
A fond smile touched my lips as my car dipped onto the dirt path leading to the cabin about half a mile into the woods.
I drove slowly, careful not to kick up too much dust in my wake.
First, the house my grandfather told me about peeked through the trees. It was a new build and hadn’t been here the last time I visited.
But damn, it was stunning.
A modern twist on a traditional log cabin, the front of it was all windows from floor to ceiling. Instead of a grassy yard, a pond stretched toward the perimeter of the lawn. Stones lined the edge of the water, marking a clear boundary around the property.
My lips quirked up at the chimney on the left side of the house. It looked just as cozy as it looked luxurious.
“If you need anything while you’re out there, your neighbors can help. Greyson and Noah. Just knock on their door and they’ll fix you right up.”
My grandfather’s parting words rang in my ear as I continued down the path, coming up on the back of the house. The front was misleading because the back opened up into an L-shape with even more space and a fully decked out courtyard with outdoor furniture, a grill and a bird feeding station.
The only thing missing was a sign of life. There were no cars as far as I could see which probably meant nobody was home. Maybe they didn’t live here full-time. It looked more like a vacation home than anything else.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Because luckily, I didn’t plan on needing help. I would speak if I ever ran into them, but I was here to write. Not be a social butterfly.
Finally, the quaint cabin I’d inherited appeared after another subtle bend in the road. Memories rushed me as soon as I put my car in park.
Aside from my grandparents’ house, this was the place I used to visit most when my family came to Bliss Peak. My Aunt Opal had lived her life simply and alone. She never married or had kids, and my father was her favorite nephew, so she’d taken me and my sister under her wing.
It was strange being here without both of them, but I refused to ruminate on what no longer was. Taking my key out of the ignition, I focused instead on everything that could be and got out the car to take my things in the house. The next few months were going to be interesting.
I pulled the protective cover off the couch and end table, bringing the house back to life after it sat empty for months. Earlier this week, my granddad came to make sure the water and electricity were running, but other than that, it looked the same as it had the last time I visited over two years ago.
Exhaling, I fisted my hands at my waist and looked around the small space. From the living room, I could see the whole house. With this layout, there was no hallway. Everything was laid in an open square that managed to not feel cramped even though it was less than five-hundred square feet.
Once I got my groceries in the fridge, I spent the next hour dusting and wiping down every surface in the house. I put fresh sheets on the full-size bed and bleached the bathroom from top to bottom.
By the time I finished, sweat made my old T-shirt stick to my back. I swiped the back of my hand across my forehead, finding sweat there too.
“Time to break in that shower,” I announced to the empty house.
After fighting my ‘Fro into my shower cap, I stripped down and grabbed a plush towel I’d stolen from my grandma’s guest bath. I had plenty of towels of my own, but she had bath sheets . The kind that wrapped around my curves with extra room to spare. And who was I to deny myself that luxury?
Throwing the towel over the back of the shower rod, I stepped into the clawfoot tub with my new loofah and body wash in tow.
Eyes closed, I let the hot water wash over me and work out the tightness in my muscles. When the water had soaked every inch of my skin, I worked the peony and rose oil body wash into my loofah and ran it over my skin. Then I went to grab the detachable shower head from its perch and my heart stuttered to a stop.
Were those wings?
A flutter of something black in the corner was all I needed to see before I dropped the loofah, grabbed my towel and climbed out of the shower with a quickness I would’ve been impressed by if I wasn’t running for my fucking life.
I didn’t remember much after I flung open the front door and made a run for it. But relief flooded me when I saw a black Denali parked on the side of the house I admired earlier.
It looked like I would be needing help sooner than I thought.