Tough crowd tonight.
I stay quiet. It appears the mere sound of my voice is bothering him, or he’s tired, one of the two. It’s not even that late, but I know most people start their work day early here. Arnie likes to start before the birds even sing. I’m sure it’s the same for him.
“This is me,” I add as soon as we make it to the cabin. All thelights are on so you can see through almost every window to the mess inside.
“Do you want me to bring this inside?”
“No!” I answer, and before he can argue, I grab the box from him. “Thank you so much. You’ve done enough. I’m, I, well, I’m going inside.”
I open the door, but before I step in, I say, “Hey, bee tee dubs, could you maybe not tell Lilly about the whole gas scenario yesterday?”
He doesn’t ask further questions. “Not a problem. I’m right there if you need anything.”
Okaaay then. Quiet, not curious, helpful. I think we’ll be the best neighbors.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you so much!”
He leaves as soon as the door closes behind me.
Phew, okay. Crisis averted.
The smellof delicious food will always be my favorite thing. I forget to eat often, but it gives me a dopamine hit to enjoy something I made with my own hands. As long as I can remember to cook it, that is.
A pot pie is in the oven; it needs some extra time, which is perfect for me to take a quick shower and get ready for dinner and coloring.
Growing up, it was my dad’s thing to cook with me. Not because I was any good at it, but because it was the only time they could keep me entertained and contained inside the house for long enough. I also eat pretty much anything, so it was a win-win.
I don’t remember the first time it started, the cooking, but I remember the last time we did it together. It was after Mom died, and he was so sad. I tried to cheer him up. It didn’thelp, though; nothing could. He gave his entire heart to Mom when they met, and it beat just for her until hers stopped, and his followed suit. Tied souls; when one left, the other couldn’t survive without its missing tether.
There’s not enough time to wash my hair tonight, but a quick rinse is on the books. I make a mental note to text Willa tomorrow and let her know about Lilly saying yes to the job and giving me more responsibilities. She’s going to be so proud of me, and I’m here for it.
I also hope I can make them proud with my actions too, show them I’m capable of a lot, and, in the process, remind myself of that too.
Not enough time to wash my hair, my ass, because this water, at the perfect temperature, is calling to me. I can take an extra ten minutes and wash it. Nobody’s waiting for me, I don’t have anything to do—it’s perfect.
Perfect.
Except now, the water has gone almost cold, a mood killer for sure, but not more than the alarming beeping from somewhere in the house.
The hell?
I wrap a towel around my body and rush out of the foggy bathroom, just to find the rest of the cabin is foggy too. I rub my eyes, making sure I’m seeing right, but I am. There’s fog everywhere.
Oh, no, no, no.
That’s not fog.
That’s smoke.
Smoke!
And the beeping? An alarm.
The freaking fire alarm is going off.
No, no, no!
I open the back door and rush to the front to do the same.
