But all that was beside the point. I liked chatting with her. Other than my parents, Tyler, and the occasional Facebook comments from college friends that were off starting families or making it big in the city, I was pretty much a loner. Living up in the middle of nowhere as a Deaf man didn’t give me many opportunities for human interaction. My sister was right. I needed more friends.
People in town never really tried to include me, even when Alex was here. They were cordial and tried their best, but never went past general friendliness. No one wanted to try and get to know me better. And nowadays they just kept their distance. Other than Ellen, the store clerk, earlier that week. That was a first.
When I had Alex up here, none of that had mattered. We had each other and that was all we ever needed.
Well, it was all I had ever needed.
Once she passed away, though, my only company other than Archie had been my grief and regrets. Which was fucking agonizing. I’d convinced myself that I enjoyed being alone because it was easier than dealing with people who treated me as a bother, to indifferent or suspicious to try and communicate with me.
Sure, with Gwenevere communication wasn’t super easy, but she didn’t act bothered by it. That alone thawed some of the frost on my cold, dead heart.
Still, I shouldn’t have said that to her. Because now she was looking at me like I was a puppy in the window of a pet store. God dammit.
Mayday. Mayday. Pull back, pull back. I snatched the phone back. I mean, I just prefer to look people in the eye when I talk to them, ya know?
As she read my message she frowned slightly. Smooth, dude. Real smooth. She dropped the phone to the sofa cushion then stood and walked toward the kitchen, digging through her backpack.
Out came her phone and she began typing. When I looked down, I noticed I had bars back on my phone. For the last few hours, the snow had still fallen, but the wind had massively died down.
Great. She was probably texting her bestie, telling her about the sad, Deaf guy in the cabin in the woods who was doing a shitty job at flirting. Still looking at her phone, typing away, she sat crisscross on the sofa. As I went to grab my phone and stand—to hopefully make a somewhat graceful exit—it vibrated in my grasp. Text message, unknown number.
212-555-3987: Cell service is up. Now we can look at each other in the eye when we chat. Well, sorta.
As I looked up at her and she was smiling cautiously at me, my brow rose. A compromise? Another text swooped right in.
212-555-3987: You did say your number was on the paper on the table. Is this easier for you?
Glancing up at her, I grinned and nodded.
Me: Very much so.
After I sent my response, I changed the contact name in my phone to just the letter G. Because I was too much of a lazy ass to type out the full name. Also, I still had this sinking suspicion that Gwenevere wasn’t her real name. Something in my gut told me this girl was on the run.
Me: I suspect the power is back up then. Hold tight, I’m gonna go flip the generator off.
She nodded and I went outside to perform the task, then turned the breakers back on. Yup. We were back in service. A few minutes later, I slumped back down on the sofa and picked up my phone again.
Me: So, do you go by Gwen, because Gwenevere is quite the mouthful.
She gnawed her lip as she typed. She was lying. She probably thought she was good at it, but I was a master at interpreting body language.
G: My friends have always just called me G.
She sucked in a deep breath as she responded. Hmm, guarding. Made sense. I was a stranger. She had every right to be guarded and fearful. Also possible she had something to hide. All I knew was that part of me really wanted to figure her out, while another part of me said run for the hills because this girl was nothing but trouble.
Me: Funny. That’s exactly what I typed in for your contact. Mainly because I’m lazy.
I turned the phone to her as proof. We met each other's gaze and chuckled.
G: You don’t look lazy. Not in the least.
She chewed on her pinky nail for a few moments, then typed a bit more. After she sent it, I caught her peeking up at me, those whiskey brown eyes peering up through her long lashes. She then averted my gaze and went back to typing.
G: So, how many cabins do you own up here?
Me: Currently, I’ve got five cabins up here spread out on several acres.
Her lips pursed with a nod as if she was impressed with my entrepreneurship. Suddenly, I was sharing far more than I’d planned. I spilled the story on the properties I had back when I lived in the city, how I got enough collateral saved up that the bank gave me a loan. How there were a few of the cabins already on the acreage I purchased, including the one we were sitting in, but they were in desperate need of renovation. How I built a couple more, including mine. Yes, I hired contractors out for what I couldn’t do myself. Everything came off my chest, except information about my Alex or how she and I lived in this very cabin while ours was being built. As I typed, I tried my best not to think about that.
G: Wow, that’s…impressive. So, years ago, you were living in NYC?
She seemed genuinely intrigued, so I used that opportunity to try and pull information out of her.
Me: Yeah. You ever been there?
I recalled her driver’s license was Canadian. Back to chewing on that well-manicured pinky nail. Again, the body language.
G: Um. Yeah. Just visited a friend there. Heading back home, to Canada.
I looked back up at her and she was looking off to the side, twirling a strand of hair around her fingertip. Another lie.
Me: Is that how you wound up trapped in this awful weather?
I hoped that I could get some kind of truth from her. Then again, I wasn’t offering my full life story. We still were strangers after all.
G: I was trying to make it to the inn a bit further along. Lightning struck a tree down in front of me, I braked too hard. Skidded. Car got stuck. You know the rest of the story.
My heart dropped to my stomach. I knew how that could have ended. She was lucky only her car got stuck. Damn lucky. I thought of the alternate way that scenario could have played out. Her car hitting a tree then rolling down the side of a cliff. I thought about her being trapped inside, screaming for help as she slowly froze to death. The more I thought about it, the more nauseated I grew.
And that’s when I noticed the date on my phone. Three years ago today. And here I was, chatting in our cabin with another woman as if nothing had happened, letting her get too close. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and even though I was sitting, I felt dizzy. My vision blurred as the room swirled around me and my hands shook as I tried to type a response.