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“This storm is going to be wild. I think you better stay here, at least for today, and see if it dies down this afternoon.” Jake busies himself, packing up the first aid kit, and I try to pull myself together.
“Okay,” I say quietly. He doesn’t leave room to argue, and to be honest, the weather looks foul outside. I don’t think I could make it to my cabin safely even if I tried.
He puts the first aid kit back into the cupboard and comes back to me, grabbing me by the waist again and lowering me slowly in front of him until my feet hit the floor.
“Go sit in front of the fire, I will make you a coffee, then you can tell me what you were thinking going into the forest this morning when a storm was coming.”
I purse my lips and cross my arms on my chest, staring at him because I don’t like people telling me what to do or talking down to me. But he knows he is pushing my buttons because he gives me a sly grin and shakes his head; he is trying to rile me up.
“Just like your daddy, quick to temper, good to know,” he says with a nod, before turning around and getting busy with the coffee.
As I turn to leave the kitchen, I notice that the letter from my dad is sitting on the bench and is unopened. My heart clenches a little because I know the feeling, I couldn’t open mine immediately either. The heartbreak of losing dad, along with the throbbing of my head and ache of my limbs makes me weary.
I walk down into his sunken living room. The fire is roaring, and I wrap myself in a large blanket that is on the armchair, curling up in the corner of the sofa, like a burrito. With only my head peeking out, I look around the room. Yes, he has building work going on along one side, but it is absolutely amazing.
The fireplace is large and made of stone and is the centerpiece of the room. It is nearly majestic with the stones running right up to the ceiling, and it is such a beautiful feature. The room has extremely high ceilings, a beautiful timber floor with lots of rugs, and large, framed artwork adorns the walls. It is rugged, luxurious, and huge. Everything about Jake is huge. I blush as a thought jumps into my head, because I wonder if everything is huge....
There are still no photos here, though, no trinkets, and certainly no flowers or any type of personal nick nacks.
The windows are large, and I can now see the storm is in full force, although it is quiet inside, so his insulation must be top notch. The trees are blowing wildly in the wind, the rain is pelting against the windows, and even though it is late morning, the sky is dark and the fire is giving the room a lovely orange glow.
Jake walks into the living room with two cups of coffee, shaking his head and smiling when he sees me all cuddled up.
“Are you warm enough?”
“Delightfully so,” I say back chirpily as he hands me my coffee, and I take a big whiff of the amazing aroma.
“So, what were you doing out in the forest this morning?”
“I remembered that there was a clearing not far away, where there were lots of raspberries, and I went for a walk to find it.”
“I assume by the stain on your top when I grabbed you that you found them?”
I nod. “But lightning hit the trees around me. I got startled and tripped over, hence the squashed raspberries and my knees. I hit my head on a rock as I fell,” I say as I touch my forehead again with my hand and wince, because now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, I am actually really sore.
“Why did you need raspberries today?”
“I went to sleep last night thinking of the diner and this morning woke up wanting to make the fresh raspberry pie that dad used to make.”
“Oh boy, that was a good pie,” Jake says suddenly, lost in his own thoughts of dad’s pie.
“Did he make it for you?”
“Once. I think it was one of the first times that Maria came to visit him, and I happened to be around. I could smell him cooking it, so I followed the smell into his cabin and ended up taste testing it for him before she arrived.” Jake smiles at the memory.
“Wow, dad was using his cooking skills to impress Maria, he must have been smitten.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but they were good for each other, you know,” he says, looking at me.
I nod and sip my coffee.
We sit quietly for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts of dad, and with the fire crackling and the strong rain and winds outside, I feel cozy, comfortable, and not at all like I am at a house where I don’t belong. Jake is welcoming. He is opening his house to me, and I feel like I have always been here. I finish my coffee and sigh. I feel content, and it is weird because I don't ever remember feeling content, not like this. Jake stands, walks over to me, and takes my empty cup.
“Why don’t you rest here in front of the fire for a bit, I need to make some calls.” I nod, and he walks to the kitchen and then makes his way upstairs to his office.
I snuggle into the sofa. My body is now totally worn out, and my head is throbbing a little, so I rest it on the arm of the sofa and close my eyes, listening to the fire crackle and hiss, feeling warm under the large blanket.
It is so peaceful. Despite how eventful my morning has been, my mind is actually clear and calm. I am not stressed about work. I don't have my phone with me to be annoyed by the constant ringing and messages that come through. The weather is terrible, so I don’t feel guilty about not being outside. For the first time in a long time, I let someone take care of me, and I simply rest, falling into a blissful nap right here on Jake’s sofa.
