They talked and sang silly songs. Angela had had two beers which was a lot for her. She felt uninhibited enough to actually sing; even if she was really awful.
“That is worse than the screeching of cat claws on a window,” Dot didn’t hesitate to comment.
“It was not very bad.” Michelle tried to be on her side.
“It was pretty bad.” Michael wasn’t helping.
“I know; I’m awful,” Angela said, laughing. “Do you have another one?” she asked Eric who was playing his acoustic guitar and held the song binder. She didn’t care; she was happier then she had been in a long time. She should have realized it a long time ago. Robert wasn’t for her.
“The torture goes on,” Michael joked as she started her personal rendition ofThe Gambler.
Dot made her way to bed first, followed by Eric and Michelle. Angela and Michael found themselves alone, staring at the fire. Michael had talked all night; he had had a million things to say, but suddenly he found himself speechless. In the glow of the fire’s light, Angela looked amazing; her long hair flowing over her shoulder. Even in her thick fleece sweater, she looked sexy. He noticed she had been scratching the back of her neck.
“Are the mosquitoes bugging you?” he asked her; the first words spoken in five minutes.
“A little...” she said.
The fire was dying. Michael was debating adding another log. He knew that they shouldn’t be sitting like that; alone. He wasn’t sure where it could lead. He loved the idea of where it could lead, but it knew it wasn’t right.
“It’s going well, isn’t it? With the kids?” she offered.
“It is,” he said, happy with the day’s events.
“You should see them a lot this summer. It would bring you guys closer. Maybe they could stay with you for a while.”
“I’m not sure if my ex-wife would go for that.”
“Well, make her. You have as much right to those kids as she does. She’s the one who decided to move.”
“I know but...”
“You feel guilty about it, don’t you? Don’t…” she insisted. “And obviously, the language issue is not a problem.”
He had never really thought it would be possible; spending time with his kids, but she suddenly made him see things in a new light.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should talk to her.”
“Not maybe. You should definitely talk to her.”
He thought about it for a while they sat in silence, under the dark sky, getting eaten by the bugs.
“We should probably go in,” he said reluctantly, waiting for her reply.
She hesitated. “You’re right. We probably should.”
As he drowned the fire and they tidied the area, he wished they could have stayed up all night talking, but he knew it was for the best.
Angela walked into her cabin halfhearted, shooting a last glance at Michael; they looked at each other for a few seconds before she entered the cabin. In the cold and darkness of night, the cabin had a different feel; and eerie feel, and a mustier smell. She reached for the lamp on the night table beside the bed.
She felt cold; she knew the heavy flannel nightgown she had brought would come in handy. She rummaged through her drawer to find it, making a mess of her clothes. She quickly took off her fleece sweater and clothes and got into her cozy nightgown. She folded her clothes neatly, and as she was putting them away, she saw it scurrying from behind the dresser; a large unsightly furry creature the diameter of a small glass bottom, black with a plump round middle and eight creepy legs.
She screamed. As the spider felt Angela’s presence, it froze on the wall. Angela held her breath. She knew this was a stand-off. She would not take her eyes off it because she knew that if she would, it would scurry away, probably under the bed, and there was no way she could sleep knowing that thing was in her cabin. No way.
She was at a loss; there was nothing near by she could think of using to kill it, nor did she know if she was even capable of that. Her heart was pounding.
“Michael!” she screamed. She knew he was just in the next cabin and that he would hear her.
“Michael!” she screamed much louder. She heard footsteps.
