Dinner, family, and possibly more flustered chaos awaited.
But for now?
I felt clean.
Centered.
Ready.
Or at least, mostly dry.
And in this house, that was good enough.
Chapter Six
Ben
I stared at the hand-painted sign just outside the dining room.
Dinner served nightly at 6:30 p.m. – Lodge guests only. Home-cooked, hearty, and love-filled meals. Must enjoy garlic.
There was a doodle of a smiling fork in the corner, which looked somehow accusatory as if it knew I wasn’t in the best of moods.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, weighing my options like it was a matter of national security.
On one hand: dinner at the lodge. No reservations, no cold waitstaff, no pressure to make conversation. A warm, home-cooked meal made by people who probably used real butter and not some industrial oil blend. Probably something with gravy. Possibly pie.
On the other hand, town.
I didn’t know much about the town. I’d driven through Main Street on the way in and caught glimpses of a bakery, a few diners, and a place calledThe Rusty Acornthat looked like it specialized in deep-fried regrets. I could probably find a burger. Or a subpar salad and a watery beer. And I’d have the gift of solitude.
But solitude wasn’t the issue, was it?
No. The issue was Fifi.
Or rather, the possibility of Fifi.
There was a solid chance she’d be here. That she’d eat with the guests, flitting from guest to guest, offering refills and warm chatter, and that laugh that had lodged itself somewhere in the base of my spine.
I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
It had been one thing to check in, exchange a few witty jabs, and witness her mid-chicken chase. But sitting down to dinner? In the same room? Witheye contact and appetizers?
Dangerous territory.
She was too bright, too unpredictable, and too much of something I wasn’t ready to name.
But still...
It had been a long day. I’d hiked, written two emails that had taken me thirty minutes each because I kept getting distracted by the view, and, okay, maybe also by imagining her scolding that chicken like it owed her money.
I was hungry, soul-tired hungry.
And if I was being honest with myself, the idea of walking into a restaurant alone, eating alone, and trudging back through town just to avoid one woman felt… pathetic.
I wasn’t here to hide.
I was here to figure out how to live again.
