Chapter Eighteen Ella
Chapter Eighteen
Ella
We’ve been at Claudette’s friend’s retreat for two weeks now.
I love the mountains, and I’m deeply grateful to have my hideaway here, but they’ve started to feel like a wall closing in.
Cat left a couple of days after we arrived, once she was satisfied with the security measures in place and the satellite communication system set up, so Freemont can check in with me. They wanted her back as soon as possible. Apparently, some clients will only deal with her.
I was sad to see her go. Adventures like the one we’ve been on create a bond, whether you mean them to or not. She said she might come back in the summer. Being snowed in up here isn’t her idea of fun.
I’m not sure it’s mine either. Will I even still be here in the summer? It’s a question I avoid thinking about.
Mountain Breath is as secluded as a place can be.
Perched high on a mountain in Yoho National Park, there’s no car access, only a narrow walking path that winds steadily uphill.
It takes nearly an hour to reach, longer if the air is thin or your thoughts won’t stay quiet.
I should know. Mine keep circling, despite the beauty and quiet surrounding me.
The residents make the trek at least once a week to the village below for mail and small supplies. Anything larger arrives by air, dropped a few times a year like a reminder that the outside world still exists.
Ian and Miriam, Claudette’s friends who run the place, live completely off the grid. Self-sufficient. Unreachable.
I could stay here forever and never be found.
The thought is surprisingly depressing.
Besides us, there are a dozen other people here. Tara, the naturopath, who’s taken over my prenatal care to the best of her abilities, and Ralph, the psychologist I’ve already had a few sessions with, are permanent residents.
The remaining guests have come because they need to step away from the world for a while. Though I doubt any of them are here because they’re on the run from the mob like me. At least I hope not.
Curiously, none of them seem to mind being snowed in for the winter, cut off with no easy way out.
The temperature has dropped noticeably, and snow is expected soon. Morning comes cold, always. Not cruel, just unapologetic.
I wake before the sun most days, wrapped in blankets that smell faintly of wood smoke and soap, listening to the quiet breathe around me. No engines. No voices. Just wind moving through the trees and the occasional cry of a bird.
The cabin I share with Claudette sits slightly apart from the others, tucked between pines like it chose privacy on purpose. All the cabins do. Spread out enough that solitude is possible, but close enough that you never forget you are not alone.
That’s the design here.
I pull on wool socks and a sweater before stepping onto the floor. The wood is cold beneath my feet, but familiar now. After using the bathroom, I add a few logs to the fire, coaxing the amber glow back to life and warming our small cabin.
Wrapping a blanket around myself, I settle into the armchair by the fireplace and place the satellite phone Cat gave me in my lap.
Any time now, it will ring.
This is my favorite time of the day.
I don’t have to wait long before the screen lights up, my best friend’s name flashing at me.
I answer, smiling. “Hey sweets, how are you?”
“Excited! I couldn’t help myself. I went shopping.” The exuberance in Rhia’s voice is unmistakable, as is the mischief.
“Oh no. What did you buy this time? You’ve already got a large collection of sex toys.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t added to my collection. I bought something for you.”
“Rhi,” I say, exasperated. “I don’t need sex toys either. It’s the last thing on my mind.”
“It shouldn’t be. I’ve read that pregnant women get really, really horny. You need to be prepared.”
“I agree,” Claudette chimes in as she shuffles out of her room, eyes still mostly closed, heading for the bathroom.
“Claude, how are you, wicked woman?” Rhi says. The two of them bonded on my first phone call with Rhia when I was crying too much to hold the phone. “Are you keeping my bestie off the straight path?”
“I’m trying my best,” she grumbles.
Claudette isn’t a morning person. I never used to be either, but Peanut has me up early now. Or maybe it’s Rhia’s daily calls, giving me something to look forward to.
“She worries too much,” Claudette adds before disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“That would be Ella,” Rhi laughs, unaware Claudette is no longer with us.
“So what did you buy?” I ask, eager to move the focus away from me, remembering too late it won’t work, given her shopping mission wasn’t for herself.
“Well, I bought you a magic rabbit wand. I haven’t tried that model, but it looked good to me.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. Or can she?
“And don’t you dare roll your eyes at me,” she says. “You’ll thank me when you get horny.”
“Is that all you bought?” I ask carefully, ignoring the sex toy conversation altogether.
“No. I might have also bought your first baby clothes. Wait, I’ll send you a picture.”
I hear rustling, and a few seconds later my phone pings with an incoming message. I laugh when I see it.
It’s a picture of a onesie that reads: My auntie is definitely cooler than my dad.
“Can’t argue with that,” I say, and quickly push away the thought that Tiero won’t be in the picture.
Then there’s another one. If you mess with me, you mess with my Aunt and you don’t want to mess with her.
And a final one. My Auntie Rhia is my favorite.
“On that last one, you’ll have fierce competition,” I say. “Claudette will make sure of it.”
“Oh, nobody beats me,” Rhia teases. “I’ll give them to Lex to take to Atlanta the next time he goes. Freemont will send them on to you from there in a way that won’t be tracked. I might add a few other things as a surprise.”
“The best surprise would be if you came to visit before we get snowed in for the next few months,” I say, even though I know it’s a pipe dream.
Tiero is still watching her. She admitted it the other day.
There’s no way she could get here without being noticed. Even though I know all of that, it doesn’t stop the sadness from creeping into my voice.
“I can’t imagine not seeing you for that long. I miss you so much, Rhi.”
“I miss you too, El. It’s not the same without you around. These calls every day are great, but they can never replace actually being together.”
Silence settles between us. Neither of us rushes to fill it.
A lone tear slips down my cheek. I bite my lip to stifle a sob, but of course she hears it.
“What’s going on, El?”
I shake my head, trying to snap out of the sudden shift in my mood.
“Hormones,” I mutter.
Most people accept that explanation when you’re pregnant. My best friend doesn’t.
“Try again,” she says, no fuss, no judgment.
I can’t, though. The lump in my throat is too thick to swallow.
“Talk to me, please.” The mirth in her voice is gone now, replaced by concern.
As if sensing my upset too, the bathroom door opens and Claudette walks out. One look at me and she crosses the room, perching on the arm of the chair and winding an arm around my shoulders.
I lean into the comfort she offers.
“I don’t know how to put into words everything that’s going on in my head,” I admit, wiping away the fresh tears spilling over.
“Sometimes I wonder if this is what the rest of my life is going to look like.”
My voice breaks, but once the words start coming, I can’t stop them.
“Am I going to hide here at Mountain Breath forever? Is this where I’m going to give birth to Peanut? Raise her here? Sure, it’s peaceful. It’s beautiful. But it’s in the middle of fricking nowhere. What about school and friends for her? A normal life?”
My hand presses protectively over my abdomen, the faint swell beneath my palm suddenly very real. Claudette’s arm tightens around me, her hand stroking my arm in slow, steady passes.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m beyond grateful I’ve found refuge here. But I feel like a spectator in my own life, not the one making the choices.”