Chapter 10
As the week dragged on, I knew I was running out of time. I’d been hiding away like a crazed hermit crab, switching between tabs on my computer: job searches, Pinterest, and my manuscript.
I’d applied for more than twenty positions around town but still hadn’t heard back from anyone yet. So while I waited for someone to respond, I wrote.
My manuscript All the Lights was a realistic fiction about a woman named Vivian who owned an art gallery in a small town called Maplewood. Vivian was everything I wasn’t. She was steady, brave, and completely sure of herself. I envied my own fictional character if I was being honest.
I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, mocking me.
Only a third of the book was written, and already I felt like a fraud.
I wanted to write something that mattered.
My favorite author, Lindy Parker, had gotten me into reading, and though it sounded dramatic, she changed my life.
And knowing that my writing could literally have the power to change someone’s life, their mindset, their beliefs felt both daunting and inspiring.
I wanted so badly to write something just like that.
But today was obviously not going to be that day, because everything I was putting out sounded like a third grader wrote it.
With a groan, I slammed the laptop shut. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled. It was almost eight o’clock, and time for some more prepackaged noodles. I was really hoping I’d feel safe enough to leave the house soon so I could buy some actual fresh produce.
Maybe tomorrow.
I stood up to head toward the kitchen and start making myself something when I suddenly heard a massive crashing noise from outside the cabin.
My entire body tensed, and I stilled mid-stride. “What the—”
It took a second for my bones to thaw, and then, with trembling limbs, I walked over to the front window to peek outside.
Another loud crash sounded, and this time I recognized it as a trash can hitting the ground.
When my eyes finally landed on what was causing the noise, I gasped and jumped back from the window with a horrified scream.
“Oh my gosh, that’s a bear!”
A big, brown, furry bear that was literally the size of my car.
My brain was on fire. What did I do? Was it going to break down my door and maul me to death?
I was shaking like a leaf when I peeked outside again. The massive creature was no longer rummaging through my trash. Instead, it was moseying over to my front stairs, and I almost fainted.
“No, go away. Please go away. Oh my gosh, please do not come onto the porch.”
It was like the bear heard me, because then it started climbing up the stairs.
I heard the creaking of the wooden boards as they struggled to hold the bear’s weight.
I let out a scream, and before I knew what I was doing, I was running down the hall into the bedroom, closing the door and locking it, then calling Emily.
The phone rang and rang and rang, and with each ring I grew more and more beside myself.
“Please, Emily, answer the phone,” I begged.
My only thought was calling my best friend. She would know what to do, right? A sob escaped me when the phone went to voicemail. I hit my brother’s number immediately after, fingers trembling.
It went to voicemail again.
More loud banging noises came from the front of the house, and I could feel tears begin pouring down my cheeks in desperation.
Should I call animal control? What number would that even be?
I couldn’t call 911—that was too much, right?
Was I really in danger? In my panic, unsure how severe the situation was and with my brain running on adrenaline, I pressed another contact on my phone and held it to my ear with a trembling hand.
“Hope?” Jay’s voice came over the other line, and I couldn’t hold back my sob.
“Jay, there’s a bear on my front porch. I don’t know what to do, and I’m afraid it’s going to break into the house and—”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. There’s a bear?”
“It’s a giant bear, Jay! It messed up my trash cans, and it’s now on my porch!”
“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be right there. Are you in a room far away from the front door?”
“Yes, I locked myself in the bedroom.” I pulled my knees to my chest, and another whimper escaped me.
“Okay, stay there. I’ll be there in just a second.”
“It's massive. It could easily snap my front door in half. Can bears smell humans? Oh my gosh, it can totally smell me. It’s going to eat me—”
“You’re not going to get eaten by a bear. Relax. I’m a minute away.”
I heard the door of his truck open and close, and then the engine rev to life.
Another scream left me when another crashing sound came from outside, even louder than the last one.
“Jay, it’s breaking stuff!” I said, my heart pounding so fast I was worried I was going to have a heart attack from fear.
“I’m almost there. Just breathe,” he instructed.
“What are you going to do?”
“It’ll probably run once it sees my car, but if not, I have other things.”
“Other things? Jay, oh my gosh, are you going to shoot it?”
“No, I’m not going to shoot the bear, Hope. That would be illegal.”
“Okay, just please hurry. I’m scared.”
I didn’t care that he was a dentist right now. All I cared about was not being mauled by a bear and dying a gruesome death in my brother’s survival cabin.
A few long minutes that felt like an eternity passed, and then the lights from Jay’s truck flashed into my window. I could hear him honking his horn. A few moments later, there was a knock at my front door, and I had to unfurl my shaking limbs to go open it.
When his figure appeared in the doorway, he didn’t hesitate to reach out and pull me into a hug.
I didn’t even fight it. I let myself hug my dentist neighbor because I was so afraid and trembling from head to foot.
“You’re okay,” he said gently. “Respira.”
“Is it gone?” I said into the soft fabric of his hoodie.
He smelled like soap and a little bit like a campfire, but not overwhelming, like maybe he had a wood-burning fireplace in his home.
It was mixed with the scent of the forest outside.
Earthy and pine-ish. When I pulled away, I had the wild thought that I sort of wished I could go back in for another hug.
“It ran off, but it broke a step and a section of the railing. I can help you fix it sometime soon. Just be careful not to fall into the hole on the steps when you’re going outside. Also, we may need to install better locks on your door and maybe some motion sensor lights.”
He eyed my door frame with scrutiny, then reached up to touch the wood as if testing how flimsy it was.
“I left trash in the bins for a while, not even thinking about bears. I’m so stupid.” I placed a clammy palm on my forehead.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better.”
“I’m such an idiot.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks as he stepped further into the cabin, closing the door behind him. “This place is literally called Big Bear. I should’ve known there would be freaking bears in the woods.”
“You’re not an idiot, Hope. You’ve never lived in the forest before.” He reached up to brush a strand of hair away from my face.
“How do you know I’ve never lived in the forest before?” I sniffled, my eyes narrowing.
“Just a rough guess,” he said with a smirk, using the pad of his thumb to wipe a tear from my cheek.
I let out a shaky laugh. “I’m not made for this sort of stuff.”
“Are you alright?” he asked, all teasing gone.
“I’m fine.”
“Have you eaten anything?” He looked over my shoulder at the clock on the oven.
“The bear sorta interrupted my dinner,” I said, gesturing to the door behind him with a droll expression.
“Come over to my house. I’m making a late dinner, and we can talk about why you ran away from me last week after learning I was a dentist.”
I was surprised by the sudden directness, and an awkward laugh escaped me. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. It’s… complicated, and honestly, it’s such a long story, it would take too long to explain.” I averted my eyes, suddenly very interested in the ancient brown carpet.
“If you’d rather stay here, then…”
“No, wait—” My head snapped back up. I really didn’t want to stay in the house in case the bear decided to come back.
“I have a beef stew cooking, and it should be almost done. We can have dinner while you explain.”
My defenses faltered at the words beef and stew.
A cozy, warm stew was my kryptonite.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
“Oh yes,” he said, catching the flicker of weakness in my expression. “Homemade.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re evil.”
He grinned. “I’m persuasive.”
I stood frozen for a moment, debating between the bear and the dentist.
“Fine,” I said, deciding I was definitely more afraid of the bear. “But only because food is involved. And I’m freaking terrified of that bear coming back right now. Not because you’re persuasive.”
“Of course,” Jay said, fighting a smile. “Because of the food.”