Chapter 4
Chapter four
Madison
March
Isigh heavily.
No, that’s not a strong enough description.
I heave a guttural expulsion of carbon dioxide.
I’m about thirty minutes outside of Noel, and my parents are going to drive my sanity off a cliff.
“I really don’t think this is a smart idea. At the very least, you could have come here while you tried to look for a job and fiddle with this side hustle idea,” my dad says, his voice loud through the speakers of my car.
Mom hums her agreement. “We still have your room set up just like you left it when you graduated. You know you could come back here while you figure out your life. It’s the smart decision.”
I’m tempted to pull over to the side of the road so I can massage my temples. Or pull out chunks of my hair. My parents are kind, loving people who mean well. They just don’t hear themselves a lot of times.
“I already told you—they’re letting me stay in the cabin basically for free.
I’m paying a minimal utilities fee. So I’ll still be able to save most of my severance paychecks for the next couple of months, and then I’ll evaluate if this is something I really want to pursue,” I explain (again, for the tenth time).
“I thought through this decision like a responsible adult. I’m not going to be filing bankruptcy this year. ”
They continue their litany of objections, but I tune them out. I really don’t need them poking holes in my decisions—my own brain does plenty of that on its own. My mental list of all the ways I’m potentially torpedoing my life is twice as long as anything they could possibly come up with.
Mercifully, a call from Clara beeps on my phone. I jump on the opportunity. “Oh, Mom, Dad, I’ve got another important call coming through. I’ll text you later once I’m settled in. Love you!”
I barely give them time to say quick goodbyes before I end their call and transfer to Clara. “My darling friend, you have impeccable timing.”
Clara snorts. “Um, okay. I was just calling to find out your ETA.”
“I’m about fifteen minutes out. Am I in the same cabin I had during your wedding week?” I ask.
“Yes. James was going to rush to get the Christmas decorations taken down, but I told him to leave them up,” Clara says.
I pull a face, even though she can’t see me. “They haven’t taken down the Christmas decorations yet? It’s the first week of March. Even you have your Christmas decorations put away by now.”
“First of all, you know I have a few little decorations that stay up all year. But I think James and Becky were enjoying a slower pace catching up on life after managing the cabin rentals and her coffee shop for so many months. Busy tourist season pretty much runs from May through December around here now,” Clara says, and I can hear the pride in her voice.
Her vision for Christmas Fest is what enabled so many of Noel’s businesses to stay open longer.
“I’m sure they’ll be boxing up the decorations from the rest of the cabins over the next couple of weeks, but I told him to leave them up in yours.
A little inspiration might help with your dream-finding quest.”
Now I’m the one to snort. “Clara, you are the one who is constantly inspired by Christmas. Not me.”
“Just you wait. I think an extra dose of Christmas cheer might be just what you need,” Clara says confidently. “Clark and I will meet you at the cabin to help you settle in.”
“I really won’t need much help, considering most of my belongings are in a storage unit. But I’ll be delighted to see you,” I reply.
I hear a bark in the background, followed by Clark’s voice shushing Chase, his dog that acts more human than canine half the time. “Are you bringing Chase with you?” I ask. “I could use a dose of Chase’s emotional support today.”
“This is going to be okay, Mads,” Clara says. “It’s going to be better than okay—I think this is the first day of the next era of your life. Just wait and see.” When I don’t say anything in response, Clara adds, “But yes, we’ll bring Chase.”
Ten minutes later, I pull up in front of the tiny cabin that was my hotel a few months ago. Staying in semi-familiar surroundings will at least give me a semblance of normalcy. I see Clark’s truck parked outside already, along with a car I assume must belong to James or Becky.
The second I step out of my car, Chase bounds over to greet me. I crouch down to scratch his chest and wind up full-on hugging him. He sits still, resting his chin on my shoulder like he knows this is exactly what I need.
Chase always knows.
When I stand, Clara is there for her hug, and I start to feel a little less anxious about this leap of faith. Clark is not a hugger, but he gives me a quiet nod of welcome. Becky comes out of the cabin carrying a bucket of cleaning supplies.
“Welcome back, Madison!” she says. “We’re excited to have your spunk around town again.
The cabin is all freshened up and ready for you.
Since Clara said you wanted the Christmas decorations”—I spear a look at Clara, who smiles serenely—“I left those up, but we can store them away at any point if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Becky,” I say. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here.”
“Oh, it’s better than sitting empty! There’s plenty of wood stacked on the main log rack at the end of the row of cabins if you want to use the fire pit.
Call or text me if you have any issues,” Becky says.
“And just FYI, there’s going to be a guy moving into the cabin across from yours tomorrow. I didn’t want you to be startled!”
Clara’s brow furrows. “Who else would be renting one of the cabins at this time of year?”
Clark jumps in to answer instead of Becky. “The pet food factory is sending in someone new to oversee things until they hire a new plant manager. According to Beau, the last guy royally screwed things up.”
Although he’s no longer the mayor of Noel, Clark is somehow still in the know about everything going on in the town. Then again, small towns lend themselves to everyone being in the know about everything.
Becky nods. “Yeah, he’s not sure how long he’ll be here, so he opted to rent one of the cabins for now. You know there’s not much available by way of rental properties in Noel.”
“They should hire Beau to be the plant manager,” Clara announces. She shrugs when we all turn to look at her. “Just saying. I know he’s only the head engineer of machinery, but I bet he would do a great job.”
Clark grunts. “Beau did move back to Noel specifically to work at the factory. I wouldn’t want to see it shut down due to mismanagement.
He’d be back in the same position he was in when they moved away from Noel after the meat-packing plant closed.
But I’m not sure if the bigwigs at corporate companies ever hire internally at small-town plants or if they always insert their own lackeys. ”
“Cynical much?” I ask Clark, quirking an eyebrow.
“Well, I think it could happen,” Clara declares. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you unpacked, Mads.”
It takes all of five minutes to unload my car, and then Clark starts carrying loads of firewood from the main rack to the small one at the side of my cabin.
Clara helps me unpack clothes into the dresser and onto the hanging rod next to the bed.
“Ooo, where did you find this dress?” she asks, holding up a coral mini dress with an A-line flared skirt. “Let me guess, thrifting?”
“Ding, ding, ding!” I say as I zip up my suitcase and store it under the full-sized bed. “I don’t suppose there are many thrift stores in Noel, huh?”
“Certainly not of the caliber you’re used to finding in KC,” Clara admits. “There’s one place on Main Street that accepts and sells second-hand clothing, but you’d have better luck driving over to Bentonville.”
The possibility of exploring wholly new-to-me thrift stores sparks excitement in the core of my being.
The “Queen of Thrifting” title bestowed upon me by my friends was a hard-earned recognition.
People who don’t know me well sometimes make the mistake of asking about my thrifting “hobby,” only to hear a passionate spiel about the effects of consumerism on the environment.
Purchasing second-hand items whenever possible seems to be the only reasonable decision.
A choice so obvious, I never understand why people need so much convincing.
Now that everything is unpacked, I look around the small interior of the cabin.
The kitchenette has a small fridge, a sink, a microwave, and a single burner hot plate.
A tiny table with two chairs is tucked next to the kitchen cabinets, and there’s a cozy bench seat with throw pillows by the door.
It will be the perfect place to sit and read when the weather is nice enough to leave the door open.
As much as I hate to admit it, the lingering Christmas decorations do add a touch of magic to the space.
I remember helping Sydney find some of these decorations at thrift stores in KC to prepare for the first-ever Christmas Fest. The theme of this particular cabin is one of the more whimsical twists on traditional Christmas decor, which is why I picked it as my hotel room during the wedding week.
Tiny white twinkle lights are tacked along the wooden beams of the ceiling, accentuating the simple architecture of the cabin. Syd really does have an eye for design.
I love the natural twigs and the sprigs of faux silver berries mixed in with more traditional Christmas greenery, which is hung with restraint around the space.
The tiny flocked tree has a mix of silver, navy, and bright pink ornaments along with white lights.
I remember how cozy the cabin felt lit by only the Christmas tree, and I’m grateful to have a best friend who knew what I might need even better than I did.
Clara claps her hands, jolting me out of my reverie. “What do you think? Come to dinner at the Deer River Bar with us? Maybe you can help me convince Ben to do the Christmas pop-up idea this year,” Clara says with a devilish grin.
Giving her a mini-salute, I say, “Lemme at ’im.”