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“No, but I’ll do it anyway.” The cheap sneaker squeaked when she turned around. She was sorry she hadn’t sprung for the $1,200 pair of Dior high-tops.
Chapter Seventeen
Cranberry Lake—Cobblestone Hill
Colette and Max got up early and went to a local diner for breakfast. Max was in his glory. Two restaurant meals in a row! He couldn’t decide between waffles and French toast. Colette could barely think of food. Max decided on the French toast, so Colette opted for the waffles. Maybe she could choke them down. The day before, she had had so much resolve. That day, she was a nervous wreck.
“Mom? Are you OK?” Max looked at her impishly.
“Yes, honey. I’m OK. Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep all that well.”
“Aren’t you having fun on our adventure?”
“As long as we’re together, for sure.” Colette reached across the table and stroked his small hand. The waitress brought their breakfast, and Max dug in. Colette was pleased that her son was taking this organized chaos so well. She kept reminding herself that he would take his cues from her, so it was important that she keep a smile on her face.
“Where are we going today?” Max swirled his food in the maple syrup.
“We’re going to try to find Mr. Dunbar and give him his surprise.”
Max kept chomping on his breakfast and nodded. “Oh yeah. I remember. You’re going to give him a book, right?”
“That’s right.” Colette was impressed with her son’s recall.
When they were finished, she paid the check and made Max go to the bathroom. “Don’t forget . . .”
“I know. Wash my hands!” Max marched into the small bathroom while Colette waited outside the door.
A few minutes later, Max appeared, holding his hands up, palms out. “All clean.”
Colette tousled his hair. “OK. Let’s get this show on the road!”
They had another hour of driving ahead. Colette typed a few destinations into her GPS, hoping that someone at one of them would be able to direct her to Dunbar’s cabin. She racked her brain to remember the name of the cabin. It seemed like every one of them had a name rather than an address. Then it hit her—Cobblestone Hill. She breathed a sigh of relief. Surely someone would know where the cabin was. From the photos she had seen, it wasn’t exactly what a regular person would consider a cabin, unless a five-bedroom, four-thousand-square-foot home on lakefront property counted as a cabin.
Max was pointing out the various trees and plants from the child’s car seat in the back. “Mom, look at that big tree. And that one.” He even commented on how good the air smelled and asked if all the windows could roll down. “For just a little while.” Colette was pleased he was in a happy mood. They played the I-Spy game for the duration. They also passed several campsites along the way and included them in their game. It was Max’s job to count them.
Colette smiled, hoping the rest of the day would be productive. Her nerves had settled as soon as she remembered the name of the cabin. It was as if Randolph had whispered it in her ear. Within the hour, they pulled in front of a small general store.
“I’ll be right back.” She turned off the engine and locked the car. The place was much more rural than she was used to. It almost spooked her. She had to admit, she was pretty much a city girl. A revelation.
She went inside the very old building. It looked like something out ofThe Andy Griffith Show. A table in the front had a pile of denim jeans and flannel shirts. Another table had local honey. One wall was filled with fishing rods and tackle, a pile of coolers was against the far wall next to a large freezer filled with bags of ice.
A skinny man with leathery skin and wearing a straw cowboy hat was hunched over the counter. “Can I help ya, miss?”
“Hello. I am looking for Cobblestone Hill. Mr. Clive Dunbar’s place? Can you direct me?”
“Sure can. I have a delivery I have to make there in a bit. I can show you.”
“Oh, I don’t want to put you out of your way.”
“No trouble, miss. I’ll be heading over as soon as I pack up my truck.”
“Thank you. I have my son in the car, so I’ll wait outside.”
“Sure thing, miss.” He tipped his hat and handed her two apples. “Be right out.”
“What do I owe you?”
“Nothin’. I grow ’em myself.” He disappeared into the back of the store and returned with a carton filled with eggs, milk, bread, and produce.
