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After the call ends, I grab the rest of my essentials and pack my Range Rover. The back is full of enough food and water to last a few weeks. I picked up a large online shopping order today so I wouldn’t have to go to the store again for a while. Just the thought of being in public gives me hives, but my mother never believed I had anxiety and didn’t allow me to get help or medication. Last year, I secretly saw a therapist and finally got a prescription to help me cope.
Once I have everything, I grab Chanel’s carrier and food. She’s another reason I prefer not to stay at my parents’ house. She’s a Sphynx cat, and my mother’s Yorkie barks at her nonstop, which means I’d spend the entire time trying to keep them six feet apart.
I load her up, take one last look around to make sure I didn’t forget anything, then leave. The cabin is in Roxbury, which is three hours away, but with an overwhelming number of people leaving the city, the traffic could make it longer.
I listen to the radio as I drive, watching people rush down the sidewalks. It’s complete madness. My mind wanders as I reflect on what’s happened over the past few days. Schools and non-essential stores closing. No flights going in or out of the country. National parks and Disney closed. No large gatherings allowed and being told to stay six feet apart from strangers. Not to mention the masks people are wearing.
It’s a culture shock and surreal how fast this happened. The sooner I get out of the city, the better.
The past week has been a blur. Between the news reports and social media posts, it’s hard to know what to believe and whether our government is really prepared. I’m well aware of my family’s legacy and what it’s provided me. The media paints me as a privileged white girl who doesn’t have to work, who has everything handed to her on a silver platter, and only has an education and future career because of the family business.
I’m an introvert and keep to my small circle of friends I trust. The media’s perception is an unfair assessment, but it sells a story and gets clicks online. Reporting the truth wouldn’t be as entertaining.
I’ve worked my ass off in school. I love learning and am passionate about business. I can’t deny my closet is full of designer clothes and shoes, but it’s to be expected. I wear the family collection and other designer brands my parents personally endorse. I was raised by nannies, housekeepers, and personal drivers and believed this lifestyle was normal until I got a taste of the outside world and reality. Life is different when your family is in the top one-percent richest of the population, which makes me an easy target for ridicule.
It also doesn’t get me a lot of true friends, and it can be lonely at times.
The scene driving into town is gorgeous. Spring is a few months away. The trees are still bare, and there’s a crisp chill in the air, even for mid-February. Once I turn onto our private road and see the cabin, I let out a sigh of relief that I made it. The Roxbury cabin is one of my favorite properties even though my mother hates it. It’s not glamorous enough, and she feels too disconnected from her high-society friends here. But that’s exactly why I love it so much.
The semi-open layout is rustic yet modern. Large windows and a wraparound deck offer the best views of the sunrise and sunset. It’s a three-story cabin that sits on ten acres overlooking two ponds and the mountains. There’s no better place to be, and maybe it’ll distract me from what feels like the end of the world. And if that doesn’t do the job, I have vodka.
“Chanel, we’re here!” I sing-song as I park in the three-car garage. “We’ll be safe here, baby.”
The downside of traveling without Zane is having to unload this shit alone. Fortunately, my mom had the cleaning crew come out two weeks ago, so it should still be decent inside. We rent it out to family and friends once in a while, so we keep the five thousand-square-foot cabin maintained year-round.
I set the cat carrier down and open it so she can explore and get accustomed to the space. She hasn’t been here since last year, so it might take her some time to remember it. She immediately sniffs around and flicks her tail, annoyed.
“You’ll like it here,” I tell her, then lean down to pet her. She purrs, and I smile. “I’ll be right back with your litter box and dishes.”
After dragging my suitcases inside, I make three more trips until every grocery bag is on the counter. I put the food and drinks in the refrigerator and pantry, then unpack my clothes and hang them in the master bedroom closet. It’s the only room on the third floor and has a large window that overlooks the property. The other two bedrooms are on the second floor.
