Chapter 5
Bright and way too cheerful, sunlight streams in through the window the next morning, searing my eyes through my very thin lids.
Blearily, I hiss in pain and attempt to roll out of bed as gracefully as one can with a hangover from hell.
I make my way down the stairs, squinting my eyes to let in the least amount of light possible.
Shuffling towards the kitchen, all I can think of is two things: coffee and aspirin.
Megan must have been thinking the same thing since the coffee is already brewing and a large bottle of aspirin is out on the counter.
She’s leaning over the island with her face pressed against the granite top.
“I think I might be dying. Why did we drink that much?”
A groan leaves my body as I sit on one of the stools. “Megan, don’t talk so loud; my head feels like it’s gonna explode. But I think I might be in love with you for making coffee. Is it ready yet?”
I mirror Megan, resting my head on the countertop. “Oh, this makes my head feel better, so nice and cold.”
Megan regains her will to move and stands up slowly.
She grabs two coffee mugs, pouring coffee into both of them before returning to the island and sliding a cup towards me.
I gingerly reach out to grab the cup in one hand and the bottle of aspirin in the other.
I struggle for a moment trying to get the cap off the bottle.
“Damn these child-proof caps…They should make caps for when you have hangovers…They just magically disappear.”
Megan snorts and then immediately groans. Holding her head, she mutters. “Kinley, don’t make me laugh…it hurts.”
I keep quietly cursing the bottle cap until I finally manage to get it off. “Ha, you stupid thing, I win.”
Wincing at my loud words, I shake out several aspirin into the palm of my hand and pop them into my mouth, chase them down with coffee, and then slide the open bottle over to Megan.
Megan proceeds to do the same and starts to shuffle into the living room.
Yeah, the living room is definitely a better idea, comfy couch.
I follow close behind her, making sure not to spill my coffee as I slide off the barstool. We get situated on the sofa, and Megan squints out the window. “Thank God the clouds are starting to roll in.”
“Yep, sunlight is no good for a hangover. I thought I was going to go blind when I woke up.” I love cloudy days, and I am really hoping it will get cloudy enough to dampen the sunlight.
“Did you sleep ok? I thought I heard voices.” Megan takes a sip of her coffee as she looks at me over the lip of her mug.
“Just a weird dream, Beretta woke me up before it got too crazy.”
“I’m not surprised you’re having weird dreams. Sounds like all the craziness is seeping into your subconscious.”
“You’re telling me, I’ve never had such vivid dreams before. I’m hoping the time away from home and the craziness will put a stop to them. It’s starting to affect my sleep.”
I see the concern written all over her face. “Do you want to talk about them?”
“No, the last thing I need is to take a deep dive into the hidden meanings of my dreams. I probably just need to lay off the super trigger-happy books for a little bit until things with work calm down.”
Megan doesn’t seem convinced. I know she loves all that stuff, but I really don’t want to know why I’m dreaming about creepy bodiless voices and magical ceremonies.
“If you’re sure. But if they get worse, you definitely should start writing them down. Might be a hidden message that you’re missing.”
I roll my eyes playfully at her; I know she is just worried about me.
“I’m sure the hidden message is to stop trying to date stupid men, and I already deleted all the dating apps on my phone, so I’m sure soon the dreams will stop.”
“If you say so.”
I don’t bother responding, as I burrow into the comfy couch cushions. I don’t want to think about my weird ass dreams. I’d much rather focus on wishing my hangover away.
We sit in silence, enjoying the sobering effects of our coffee, content to just be in each other’s presence. Before long, Beretta and Travis scratch on the back door, signaling they want in.
“They are going to be so wet. Do you have any towels you don’t mind getting muddy?” I ask as I slowly get up and walk over to the door.
“Yeah, let me go get them, and I will help you wipe the munchkins down.” Getting up, she walks down the side hall to get to the linen closet.
I go outside and wait with the dogs for Megan to join us.
As I shut the door and turn to look at them, assessing the muddy mess that they have made of themselves, I notice that Beretta is carrying something in her mouth.
Squatting down in front of her, I snap my fingers, and she immediately drops what she’s carrying and sits down, her tail thumping against the deck.
Reaching out, I pick up the object, grimacing at all the slobber.
“Whatcha got there, silly?”
I pick up what looks like a thick stick, but when I get a better look at it, I realize it’s actually a bundle of jagged smoky crystals.
I feel a vibration shoot through my hand, nausea roils through me, and I drop the bundle.
Frowning down at it, I notice that the long, thin, smoky crystals are bound together by twine.
I shudder with a chill of dread. What the fuck is going on?
Megan then walks outside with the towels in hand. She pauses when she notices me bent over. “What are you doing, Kinley?”
I straighten up and kick the bundle out into the yard. The feeling of dread instantly dampened.
“Oh, Beretta just brought up something weird and must have found it out in the yard. Have you had people over renting this place?”
“A few months ago, yeah. What was it?”
“I’m not sure, just a weird bundle of dark crystals. Beretta is always chewing on rocks, so that is probably why she had it in her mouth.”
I swear I see Megan stiffen, but looking at her closer, I see no sign of recognition or distress.
“Weird. It’s probably nothing.”
I give her a sidelong look before answering her. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
I shrug off the weird feeling and take one of the towels from Megan.
We thoroughly wipe the dogs down and trek back inside. Shortly after we are back in the living room, it begins raining, falling in a steady downpour.
“I love storms,” I say quietly.
“Me too. I think they are so calming.”
We both curl back up on the sofa, underneath warm, plush blankets, finishing our coffee. The dogs stretch out in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth on their bellies. All while the rain continues to fall.
Eventually, we shower and decide we are brave enough to think about eating. Having no desire to cook for ourselves, we climb into Megan’s car and drive towards town.
The drive isn’t a very long one. The roads are curvy and surrounded by lush vegetation on each side.
Every now and then we get a glimpse of the lake through the trees.
It ripples and rolls in response to the wind and the heavy rain drops hitting the surface.
The chaos of it is beautiful, even if it reminds me of how fragile life can be.
How each event, no matter how small, can stimulate a cascade of life-changing alterations.
In spite of that, the scenery still adds a soothing quality to the drive that helps my pounding head, even though the turns in the road don’t help my stomach.
The tiny little lake town is welcoming, even on a dreary day like today.
We spot a few vacant parking spaces and Megan maneuvers into the nearest one.
Even though it’s off season for this lake community, it’s constantly bursting with life.
Armed with sunglasses and umbrellas, we get out of the car in search of food, we tire pretty quickly and just go into the first place we come to.
The cute little diner is a popular hangout for locals and tourists.
As soon as we walk in we are greeted by the heavenly smells of diner food.
My mouth waters instantly as the friendly, elderly hostess greets us.
“Just two today?” she asks.
“Yes, just two; could we possibly get a booth that isn’t by a window?” Megan asks politely. The hostess looks us up and down and smiles knowingly. “Sure thing, dear. You girls just follow me.”
We are quickly seated in a booth nowhere near a window. I wait a moment for the hostess to walk away before asking Megan. “Do we really look that hungover?”
“Do you really need to ask that question? First of all, we are wearing sunglasses when the sun isn’t even out, we don’t have makeup on, and if we took our sunglasses off our eyes would probably still be bloodshot. What do you think?”
“At least we showered off the booze smell,” I say with a hint of a giggle.
Megan shakes her head and looks down at her menu. I follow suit, trying to decide what to eat. I’m debating the pancake breakfast versus the fried chicken Benedict when our waitress comes over.
“Hi ladies, what can I get you to drink? Maybe some coffee?”
I look up at her and ask, “Is it good coffee?”
“It’s the best in town; we actually roast our own beans.”
“I will have some, and could you bring lots of creamer too please?”
Megan also orders a cup, and the waitress leaves, weaving in between other tables to fetch our caffeinated goodness.When she comes back we order our food and practically dive into our coffees.
“Mmmmmm, she was right. This is really good coffee. I think I could live in this cup.”
“Kinley, you are such a dork, but, you’re right, the coffee is really good.”