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“What did you say to him?” Kelly asks.
“I called him funeral guy!” I wail over the phone as the memory washes over me, and I become mortified at myself.
“You called him funeral guy?” Beth has lost it and is currently trying not to laugh.
“Then what happened? “Kelly asks, trying not to laugh herself.
“I took him cookies. I thought a family lived next door because it is such a huge cabin, so I baked chocolate chip cookies and took over a container full of them.”
“Well, your chocolate chip cookies are the best damn cookies ever made, so good move,” Kelly acknowledges, while Beth continues to laugh at me in the background.
“I told him that I bake…” I say, embarrassed beyond belief. “He must have thought I was a total idiot! I couldn’t even put two words together. I just shoved the container at him and said I bake, like I’ve never talked to a man before.” This last statement sends Beth right off, and she is now hysterically laughing.
“OMG, I bake? That was the best thing you could come up with? I bake?” Kelly sounds just as mortified as I feel. I am losing my damn mind. I leave the confines of my D.C. lifestyle, and I turn into a total bumbling idiot.
“I didn’t even ask him his name. I called him funeral guy! Fucking funeral guy! What do I do?”
“Well, I would make him a nice apple pie and take it over and offer him dessert later,” Kelly says seductively.
“No way am I going back over there! In fact, I am going to stay right away from him.”
“Is he as hot as we all remember?“ Beth asks, now fully composed, and her laughter has ceased for the moment.
“Yes! He had his top off, working on his roof, and I couldn’t help but look him over, he is so hot. My eyes seared his flesh, and he noticed. How embarrassing!” I wail to them again as the memory floods back to me.
But damn if he isn’t the most perfect man my eyes have ever laid on. He is so chiseled and tanned. He most certainly works out regularly, you can tell he takes care of his body. He was all sweaty from his work, and he has tattoos covering his pecs and shoulders, and I really want to inspect them some more.
His hands are huge. When they grabbed the container from me, I wondered, not for the first time, what they would feel like on my naked body. That thought alone makes me want to explode. I am so glad I had the forethought to pack my vibrator, because the funeral guy does something to me and my center is throbbing in need of him.
“Listen, you are an amazing woman, any man in his right mind would find you attractive and want to get in your pants, so why not have a little fun while you are in Hancock. Perhaps you can put your hands on his cock?” Beth says again before we all burst out laughing together.
“I love you girls,” I say seriously. “What would I ever do without you?”
“We love you too. Now get baking that pie and call us tomorrow with all the post-sex information we want to hear!” Kelly says before we all say goodbye, and I am left sitting on the floor of the cabin, alone.
I close my eyes. It felt good to laugh with my friends. It has been way too long since I really had a big belly laugh, and even though it was at my expense and I am still mortified by my interaction with funeral guy, I feel lighter. I realize that since being here in the Hancock, sadness doesn’t engulf me like it once did.
My eyes ping open, and I look over the cabin. It is small, but so beautiful. Dark woods and timbers line the walls and floor. A large sofa sits in front of an open fireplace, and the windows offer a peek of the view outside. Large rugs adorn the floors. It is cozy and perfect.
Sure, I am no builder, but even I recognize that it needs a little work. I haven’t been here when there has been a storm yet, and I know storms in Hancock can get pretty brutal. Even though I am sure this little cabin would survive anything, I need to ensure I have a few buckets on hand, because I am thinking that the roof would leak if the dampness that I smelt when I first arrived is anything to go by.
I take a deep breath in, and with all the windows open the cabin now, it smells like pine and the forest. As I survey the space, I am filled with warm memories of running around here as a kid, and the rainy days of playing cards or puzzles inside. It was always just dad and I. Mom never came here; it wasn’t her type of thing.
My favorite place is the kitchen. It is small, and nothing like the expansive luxury I had at home, yet it is perfect. It is here that dad taught me how to cook, and because of him, I now love to bake.
I haven’t been through all the cupboards, and there is still a lot to sort through, but I will make that my project over the next week, to clear out and reorganize things. Looking around, I can’t understand why my mom never liked this place. Were they just two opposite people for their entire marriage, but just didn’t know it because dad was always away? It makes sense, I guess.
The space is masculine, because it was dad's haven, and although I don’t want to change it at all, it does need a woman's touch. I unpack the items I bought from town today. I think Betty felt like she had won the lottery with me, because I purchased so much. I am not sure how long I will be here for, but regardless, I know I will be back, so I want to make it comfy.
I take my time readjusting and tweaking things and step back to look over my handiwork. It is amazing what can be done in just a few hours. New cushions and throw rugs are on the couch, making it look soft and inviting. I have dressed the table with new linens and set it with new crockery and cutlery, and a beautiful bunch of fresh flowers are now sitting in the center.
I remake the bed with new linens and pillows, then spruce up the bathroom with fresh towels and amenities—my favorite rose scent now taking over the room.
I need to cut some wood for the fire because it was too cold last night without it. But before I do, I make a fresh jug of lemonade and put it in the fridge for later. I also quickly put in a casserole for dinner, because I know that it will take me forever to chop wood, and I am going to be hungry when I finish. With the inside now looking and smelling amazing, I go to the bedroom and put on my daisy dukes and boots, then go outside to chop some wood.
Outside, with the sun hanging low in the sky, I stand with my hands on my hips and look at the logs that are there. Dad must have had them here and not gotten around to chopping them. I am nervous as I pick up the axe, because it is heavy. I can lift it no problem, but I seriously doubt I will actually be able to cut anything. I have next to zero upper body strength. I don’t get to the gym as often as I should, and to be honest, I am not sure where dad got this axe, but it weighs a ton. Sighing, I know that if I want a warm fire tonight, then I need to get this done.
I drag the axe over to the chopping block and get into position. I begin to lift the axe high into the air, but before I can lower it, a large hand grabs it out of my grip, and another wraps around my waist.
