Chapter 8
8
Frankie wandered along the snowy trail, the cheerful sounds of families building snowmen and couples pulling sleds filling the crisp air around her. As she neared the old King family cabin, the warm glow spilling from its windows caught her eye. Intrigued, she veered off her original path, curiosity guiding her steps toward the front door.
The door stood slightly ajar, revealing moving boxes scattered around the entryway. Renovations were unmistakable, with furniture draped in dust cloths and the faint scent of fresh paint lingering in the air. Frankie stepped inside, her eyes quickly finding Joe in the open kitchen, his back turned as he worked. She rapped lightly on the door frame, announcing her presence.
Joe looked up, surprised to see her. “Oh. Hey.”
“Wow,” Frankie remarked, her eyes sweeping over the space. “It’s beautiful in here. Have you been working on it?”
“Here and there,” Joe replied with a casual shrug. “Kind of became a hobby — when I have time.”
“Need some help settling in?” Frankie offered as she stepped further into the cabin.
Joe chuckled. “You bored already?”
“Ha. Ha,” she retorted with a grin as she closed the door behind her. Spotting a box nearby, she peeked inside. “Books. Where do you want these?”
Joe looked around the room, his eyes scanning the space as if the answer might suddenly appear. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of his depth. “I, uh... I don’t know. I’ve never really been good with that kind of stuff.”
Frankie offered him a reassuring smile. “I got this. Leave it to me.”
Joe moved to the furniture, his hands working methodically as he began pulling off the dust covers. “May as well get rid of these,” he remarked, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I’m here for a while.”
Frankie placed a stack of books on a console table, thoughtfully arranging a decor item on top. “Is it hard? Being here, that is.”
Joe paused, his movements stilling as a distant look settled in his eyes. “It used to be. This place is full of memories,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that hinted at the emotions beneath the surface.
“Is that why you’re renovating?” Frankie asked, her voice gentle.
“Maybe in part,” Joe admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of reflection. “Blank slate. Prepare it for new memories, maybe, without erasing the old.”
Frankie nodded, understanding. “It’s a shame it’s sat empty for so long. It really is beautiful here. It deserves a family in it.”
They continued unpacking, the rhythm of their work almost comforting in its simplicity.
“After our parents passed away...” Joe began, his voice trailing off.
Frankie nodded, remembering all too well. “I remember. I understand why you boys moved to your grandparents’ cabin back then.”
Joe sighed, a mix of nostalgia and pain in his expression. “And now that’s a hard place to visit.”
“Because it’s fresh. New,” Frankie said softly. “Just like it used to be here in this place.”
“Yeah,” Joe agreed, his tone wistful. “Enough time passes, a new normal settles in, and it gets easier to be here.”
Frankie placed another book on the shelf, her movements deliberate. “The same will be true for your grandfather’s cabin too. Eventually.”
Joe hesitated, then replied quietly, “Except, I won’t be here for that.”
Frankie looked up at him, her brows furrowing slightly. “Right. Is that part of the reason you want to sell?”
Joe shrugged, conflicted. “No. Maybe? This place has become my entire life. I’m the only one who never left Bethlehem Falls.”
“So you aren’t just selling,” Frankie realized, her voice tinged with surprise. “You’re leaving Bethlehem Falls?”
Joe met her gaze, a mix of resolve and uncertainty in his eyes. “I think it’s the only way to do it. There’s nothing left here for me. It’s time to start my own adventure.”
They continued unpacking in a comfortable rhythm, the conversation light and minimal. As Frankie busied herself with the task at hand, she found herself quietly reacquainting with Joe, all the while trying to figure out how she could help him navigate whatever burden he was carrying.