Chapter 13
F ive days later, the two of them were headed to her dad’s house with one free spirit whining in the backseat.
Ellie’s regret deepened as they got off the freeway.
Why had she said yes to this plan when her dad didn’t actually like Thanksgiving?
He wasn’t big on conversation, gratitude, or any of the elements a traditional holiday dinner would evoke.
Ellie debated turning around for the entirety of the three-hour drive to his cabin in the woods, which was located at the intersection of Nowhere and Remote.
These days, Ellie and her dad were pen pals.
The cabin had no cell service and bad Wi-Fi.
William’s wife, Naomi, was deeply granola and resistant to technology, so there wasn’t a landline either.
Selling his successful orthodontic practice to retire an hour from a grocery store was a choice.
Ellie imagined that her dad drove to that grocery store to send his email invitation and the rare text messages she received from him.
“I’m getting the feeling like we’re the high schoolers here,” Ellie said. The road continued to dissolve as they pushed toward what she hoped was a driveway. The time was only a little after five, but the dusk had deepened several shades, making it hard to get their bearings.
“Which high schoolers?” A light flickered on in the distance, beyond a patch of overgrown trees.
“You know, the teenagers in the movie who wanted to party in a cabin, but there’s a killer on the loose?”
Drake tossed his phone into the cup holder. “You’ve really never been out here?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.” The wheels hit a branch that cracked so loud, Ellie thought a bone had snapped.
Her car was built to handle the occasional puddle or a gentle patch of snow— not whatever undergrowth they were driving over.
She regretted turning down Drake’s offer to take his truck.
It would handle better in the woods, he’d said, but Ellie resisted.
She liked to be the conductor on drives, selecting the music and determining the gas stations and roadside attractions that were worth a stop.
Still, the truck would’ve made more sense.
Ellie hadn’t prepared for this outing, in so many ways.
Two figures appeared on the wet wooden porch as the car crawled closer.
Warm light poured out from the front windows, illuminating her dad as he shifted down the front steps.
His arms stretched in a big wave above his head; he was saying hello or fending off a bear.
Either way, it was new to see him take up this much space.
For years, William had curled himself into a tight, button-down-clad ball that cowered behind her mother.
It was nice seeing him look comfortable in his casual flannel shirt and jeans.
Ellie threw the car in park.
“Well, we made it.” Drake exhaled. She could hear the nervousness in his voice.
He had met her dad and Naomi only once about six months ago; they took a road trip to have dinner at a halfway point on Drake’s insistence.
The neutral hotel restaurant Ellie picked had a fireplace that should’ve made a strong conversation starter.
Unfortunately, the hostess seated them on the opposite side of the lounge, an eternity from the roaring fire.
They covered crunchy topics Ellie and Drake knew nothing about over mediocre flatbreads.
Hotel restaurants always served flatbreads.
“Kiddo,” William called as Ellie exited the driver’s seat and helped Nancy out of the back.
Her dad went in for a hug. The smell of pine and earth latched onto his shirt and skin.
Behind them, Drake teetered his weight between their two duffel bags.
Duffel bags were smart. Duffel bags said, We’re only staying one night.
Naomi insisted on grabbing both of the bags as she motioned them inside.
William slapped Drake on the shoulder, as manly men do.
“Let’s get in there,” he said. “Dinner’s on the stove. ”
Turkey and cranberry sauce would’ve been too obvious a choice.
Her dad and Naomi’s Thanksgiving involved a lawless soup: beans and mystery meat, tiny macaroni noodles, and what tasted like baking spices.
An antler-shaped fixture loomed above their heads as they chewed.
The fixture had come with the cabin, Ellie assumed.
Surely, the man she’d grown up with, and had to at least still know a little, would not have chosen that fixture.
“So, Ellie,” Naomi started, “how are your articles going?”
Ellie tried to hide her frustration. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Naomi.
She was a nice person, even though she smelled of essential oils and looked like she cut her own hair over the sink.
Naomi had worked for years as a nurse, but Ellie strained to picture her in scrubs.
She only wished Naomi hadn’t called her work articles .
“I’m dabbling with a few ideas,” Ellie said.
Her spoon clinked against the bottom of the bowl.
She was hungry, despite the collision of flavors.
“We need to catch up on our reading, Will,” Naomi said. “He likes scary stories.”
Ellie finished her soup. “You do, Dad?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He nodded a little. “Yeah. Scary ones. Nothing too violent.”
“Speaking of violence,” Naomi started. She wasn’t good at segues. “The other night, we found a dead rabbit on the porch. He was all torn up, poor little guy.” Ellie must have been quick to show her disgust because Drake darted in to change the subject.
“Maybe we could all say what we’re grateful for?” he suggested. While Ellie appreciated his attempt, her family tended to avoid discussing things like gratitude or feelings of any kind.
“I’ll go first,” William volunteered. Ellie braced herself on the table to keep from falling out of the chair in disbelief.
Her dad picked up a napkin and wiped some soup off the corners of his mouth.
“I’m grateful to have you here, Ellie. And spend some time with you, Drake.
We’ve got”—he rubbed his chin and concentrated—“what, about six months until the big day?” Ellie was surprised that her dad was keeping track of their wedding.
In fact, he hadn’t brought up the wedding at all beyond his recent offer of a gift.
Ellie had never responded to that message, she realized.
Drake nodded. “Almost exactly,” he said.
“Everything is right on schedule. We’re going cake tasting tomorrow afternoon.
And once we’ve ordered the cake, she’s not getting out of this.
” Ellie chuckled. William’s features tightened, as if Drake’s suggestion was meant to be taken seriously.
He seemed to think Ellie might run out on her own wedding, and the cake would be the fence to prevent that from happening.
Ellie wasn’t going anywhere, which she tried to convey by linking her arm around Drake’s. Her dad stared into his soup.
“Well then, I guess it’s time we got to know each other better,” William said. “I’m grateful you drove out here, too. I know it’s a long one, and this place …” He studied the room with fresh eyes. “This place probably isn’t your style,” he said to Ellie. His voice was gentle.
“It’s fine,” Ellie told him because she wasn’t sure what to say. She considered complimenting the watercolor bison painting on the wall that had been posed like a president. “Thank you for having us,” she offered instead.
When William finished sharing his gratitude, Naomi was next in line.
She was grateful for moths, she said. Ellie feared her soup might come up her nose.
Most people took moths for granted or thought of them as pests, Naomi explained.
But she liked the way they could move out of the dark toward the light. “They’re hopeful creatures.”
Drake was thankful for Ellie. Family. The food, which he lied and said was delicious.
Then, it was Ellie’s turn to speak. “I guess that I’m grateful for …” She reached for a sip of her water, wanting to stop what she was about to say and struggling to find the pause button. The need to know was too strong. This need had a six-pack, Hulk arms. “Why did you invite us here, Dad?”
William pushed his bowl away. He paused and analyzed Ellie for a long moment.
There was no unspoken language between Ellie and her father, just the lived-in confusion of neither of them knowing how to talk to the other and being afraid to admit that.
Her question hovered in the air above their heads, an uncomfortable layer right beneath the light fixture.
“I’ll clear the plates,” he said, which ended the conversation.
Ellie, Drake, and Nancy escaped to the guest room after dinner.
It was a mutual escape. When the dishes were done, her dad said, “We’ll be outside for a bit.
” There were only two chairs out there. It seemed his new routine involved reading Stephen King under the light of the moon.
He had all the time in the world to devour It and Children of the Corn , although none, apparently, for reading his own daughter’s book.
She’d sent him a copy back when it came out. He’d never mentioned it.
“I like how quiet it is here,” Drake said, next to her on the twin bed.
Ellie was dizzy. None of the lamps in the house seemed to fully work, which made the bears on the wallpaper look like they were dancing.
Ellie readjusted herself on the mattress.
It was abominable, that mattress. They also had a dog in their bed.
Nancy usually slept on the floor, but tonight, all bets were off.
Whenever she was somewhere new, that space became hers to conquer.
Ellie had already caught Nancy lying on every piece of furniture her dad owned.
“I hate the quiet,” Ellie said.