He was right. And even “pretty little thing” coming from this innocent old man didn’t feel creepy. When I finally got the courage to look him in the eye, what I saw was something I hadn’t seen in a long time—fatherly concern. “Yeah, that’s my plan.” I nodded, instinctively pressing a hand to my head to make sure my hair was tucked up inside my wool cap. “Do you know of a hotel nearby?” I looked at the two men.
“There is a nice ski lodge ten miles up the highway, and a few bed and breakfasts,” the old man said.
“Wilder Vacation Rentals aren't too far. Nice cabins. Plenty of vacant ones this time of year,” the kid added as he bagged the last of my food. Reaching under his counter, he pulled out a brochure, sliding it to me.
The old man looked at the kid like he had two heads. “Those are pretty large for just one person. And the owner isn’t much to be desired. Best to steer clear of those.” He glared at the boy, whom just shrugged.
Taking the brochure, I gave it a cursory glance and shoved it into my grocery sack. Those all sounded costly. “I’m looking for an inexpensive one, preferably that takes cash.”
“Go take a break,” he told the kid and shooed him off.
The boy looked ecstatic, grinned, and bolted.
The old man’s eyes darted to my designer jacket, manicured nails, and then my five-carat diamond wedding band.
Shit. I’d forgotten to take it off. Quickly, I shoved my left hand in my pocket.
He craned his neck and looked out the window at the shitty little car I was driving, then back to me. “Cash only, huh?” The man’s bushy brow knitted into even more concern, and his wrinkled mouth pursed as if he was trying to figure out an unsolvable puzzle. “There’s a hostel not too far up the highway that takes cash.”
A hostel? They had those in the US? I grimaced at the thought of bunking up with several strangers who would see my face.
He chuckled at my expression and shook his head. “Well, hun, you aren’t giving me many options here.” He shrugged.
I offered him a feeble grin before casting my gaze downward. “Yeah, I know.”
Leaning his elbows on the counter, he sighed. “There’s an inn that is about a hundred a night. I know the owner, Betty, and she’ll take cash, but it’s a little trek up the mountain. Not the best road conditions.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be perfect.”
“Go out and make a right onto Main…” He pointed as he began feeding me the directions.
I paid for my items, gathered my bags, and headed back out to the car. I wasn’t one to hate the cold. In fact, I really loved it, but the high wind gusts were chilling me to the bone. The first thing I did, before firing up the engine, was pull off the wedding band. What a stupid mistake! I hated running in the expensive thing, anyway, but if I ever took it off Angelo had a fit. Obviously, habit had won over intelligence. Still, maybe it was useful. I’d never thought of it as an asset. Just a burden. Could I sell it to keep me afloat until I could get a job?
Back on the road a little later, keeping my speed slow, I followed the old man’s instructions and headed up the windy road to what I hoped would be a vacant room that didn’t cost a fortune. Even with the brights on and my wipers on full blast, visibility was bad with the relentless snow.
Just as I was turning a curve, a flash of lightning split the sky in front of me, followed by a loud rumble. The next thing I knew, a tree was falling over the road. I instinctively hit the brakes. Too hard. The little Chevy skidded and before I knew it, I spun toward a ditch. My stomach dropped and, for a split second, I almost gave into the panic and hit the brakes again. But somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered this was the worst thing I could do. So, I took my foot off the pedal, gripped the wheel, and turned the direction I wanted to go.
Eventually, the car stopped spinning and came to a jerking halt. I leaned my forehead on the steering wheel, panting, my heart racing out of control. At last, I was able to stop shaking and catch my breath.
Just a few more miles. Pressing on the gas I tried to move forward, but my wheels just spun underneath me.
No no no no no. This couldn’t happen. Not when I was so close. I left the car and took stock of the situation. The road was barely visible in the moonlight due to the snow covering the asphalt, but I suspected that by the way the little black Chevy was tilted I wasn’t on it. Plus, my back tires were stuck in the slush.
There wasn’t another vehicle in sight. Probably because, unlike me, they were smart and had gotten off the treacherous roads.
I got back in the car and shut the door on the cold. Now what? Calling the highway patrol was out of the question. Sure, I had my false documents, but I didn’t want to risk using them. Not till I got to the border. I needed to hold out as long as I could. You should have stopped miles ago. Fucking careless.
Think. Think. Think. The only other thing I saw when checking on the car was a small cabin just a bit off the road, its porch illuminated by a single light above the door. Peering into the white void, I studied the cabin. Darkened windows. Vacant? Or whoever lived there could just be asleep at this hour. As I stared at it and debated knocking on the door, something about it seemed familiar. Then the teenager’s words at the store dawned on me.
Nice cabins. Plenty of vacant ones this time of year.
I dug into the grocery sack and pulled out the brochure. Right there on the front cover, underneath the words Wilder Vacation Rentals, was the picture of the small cabin I could see in the distance.
I shut off my engine and grabbed my bags, deciding to take a chance the cabin was vacant. I’d just borrow it to ride out the storm. It was either that or freeze to death in my car.
Really, what was the worst that could happen?
A little before dawn, I cracked my eyes open and sat up, sighing. Talking with my sister had helped relax me for the first time in weeks. But it wasn’t enough to stave off the nightmares. Trudging through the snow drifts, tipping over every rock like a crazy person. Days of searching, praying. Desperation. And the wind that shook my walls wasn’t helping. The demons tugged at me in my sleep.
Before my head was clear, I shook out the tension in my shoulders and began the same routine I did every morning.
On went the sweatpants.
Cell phone in pocket.
Piss.
Let Archie out.
Coffee.
Then, I’d stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the view Alex loved, glance at the empty whiskey bottle and feel instant guilt.
She wouldn’t want me to live like this.
And then came the same lies. I only drank like this when I needed to get through the rough patch. In several more weeks, I’d start to feel better. It had been like this for the past three years. It was a tiring pattern.
After I let Archie back in, my gaze darted to the upstairs hallway, at the closed door that I refused to enter, and then back to the view.
Once the snow melted and spring bloomed, I’d head outdoors more often, planting seeds for our garden. Yes, I still called it our garden because Alex used to dream of having it so much, and that was all the reason needed to keep it going. Typically, that would keep my mind occupied enough through the summer. And in the fall I’d hunt. Then winter would knock me on my ass with all its memories, returning my surly mood. The whiskey would come out, and I’d spend most of the season hibernating in a drunken stupor. Spring would come again, and I’d repeat the process.