Cutting the wood for my fire always makes me feel more focused and less stressed with every aim and swing. I’m chopping a little more than I need right now to let some of the tension of this morning out. I’ve always liked the outdoors – always liked having physical outlets for when I get too in my head, excited by the challenge of roughing it up a little. Of course, that always used to be centered on trips with the Scouts as a kid and the occasional weekend bonding adventure with my father. I’d never really planned on doing it full-time like this.
I think it’s helping, though. It’s clearing my head a bit already from the mess the last few years have been. Having to survive on so little, making and repairing so much by hand, and relying so fully on only myself has really helped me see a lot of things in a new light. I used to do a lot of running. I was always busy, rarely home. Life moved at such a fast pace with the business and the constant family pressure. Out here, I have no choice but to take life slowly. I have to make every choice with purpose. I think it’s good for me, even if there are a lot of people and experiences I miss greatly and the loneliness is already starting to get to me.
It hasn’t helped me figure out my plan yet, but at least I have the space to do it. I always have to be on guard, and this morning had been too close, but overall, I think I’ve picked a good spot. It’s hard to hide out from your own brother – someone who shares so much in your life. But my brother Calvin always hated this cabin. He always hated the outdoors in general. When Dad and I would come up here for the weekend, he’d refuse to tag along and then get all angry about being left out of whatever fun we had together up here, so it’s always been a spot of contention for him.
Calvin doesn’t stay in anything but five-star accommodations these days or travel less than first-class. He’d never dream of leaving behind the city life to come out here and find me, with his glitzy world of new nightclubs, new parties, and new women every night. Calvin has always been too dependent on other people and things for his happiness – the buzz and excitement of public life, getting the VIP treatment, and having other people know his name everywhere he goes. It would never even occur to him to look for me in these mountains.
At least that’s what I’m betting on.
I head inside with enough wood for several days. I set it down by my fireplace, glancing around my cabin. My eye catches the slip of paper Mia had given me, the one with her name and number on it. It’s sitting on my counter. I think I really should have thrown it out. Instead, I keep thinking about her. I hate that I was so rude to her, and the more I think about it, the more it bothers me.
I pick up the piece of paper, staring at her number before making a choice. I walk over to my phone and dial it. I can’t take her out for a coffee or anything, but at least I can apologize.
“Hello?” she says, picking up after three rings. “Who is this?”
“Hey, Mia, this is Jacob, from this morning,” I say, sitting down on a kitchen stool to talk.
“Oh. Did you get that dry cleaning back already?” Mia asks. She sounds a little annoyed, and a little like she’s surprised to be hearing from me.
“No. I – um,” I say, “I actually called to apologize to you.” The words feel awkward on my tongue, but I spit them out anyway.
“Oh! You did?” she asks.
“I know I was a jerk to you this morning,” I say.
“You were,” she agrees quickly.
I laugh, surprised at her honesty. The sound seems odd to my own ears, but I guess I haven’t had much reason to laugh lately.
“Yeah, I know,” I say, shaking my head even though she can’t see the gesture.
“Why?” she presses. I wish I could see her face right now. I wish I knew if she was smiling.
“Let’s just say I was in a huge rush and a terrible mood. But I’m sorry for taking it out on you,” I say, going for honest. Technically honest, anyway.
“It’s all right,” she says, voice softening. “I was a little stressed myself. It’s my first full day here in town, and I was headed to apply for a job.”
“You just moved?” I ask, curious. The town below my cabin doesn’t get a lot of new permanent faces. There are plenty of tourists throughout the peak season, people here for the stunning colors the mountains turn in the fall and to stock up on local jams and ciders. There a few people who come for the winter months: skiers and cozied-up lovers preferring the larger lodges who make up the steady trickle of people compared the rest of the year. There are people who come to get married and spend a remote honeymoon here, and there are nature photographers and hikers and travel writers and retirees with time-share cabins, but all those people are temporary. It’s rare that someone new, and someone so young moves to a town like this in a permanent way.
“I did,” Mia confirms. “I’m in a whirlwind of big life changes right now, so I guess the wind brought me here.”
“To do what?” I ask.
“I don’t know yet,” Mia says with a laugh, “but I got a job today over at Cobblestone Chocolates, so that’s a start.”
“Those are the best chocolates in town,” I say. “Maybe on this whole side of the mountain range.”
Her laugh is light and lilting, and it makes me feel lighter, too. “Then I made a smart choice,” she says.
“Congratulations on the job,” I say sincerely, hoping to make up for this morning.
“Thank you,” she says. She sounds sincere, too, and it makes me smile. She’s easy to talk to, and I can’t help but think about what it would have been like if things had been normal and I’d been able to take her out for a coffee to make up for the spilled one. I haven’t dated anyone in a long time. Even before this, I was married to my work. I was always the one behind a desk or on the floor while Calvin was out being the social one – the face of the company. While he was schmoozing with socialites and bringing models to events, I was spending hours going over numbers or perfecting new technology. For example: the one that had added all those extra zeroes to our revenue, that took us from local to international, that is probably linked to those attempts on my life.
“Where did you come here from?” I ask, wanting to hear more about her. It’s just nice to talk to another person again, to hear a voice other than my own around this place. I tell myself this, but I know there are more reasons I want to keep the conversation going. Mia answers and tells me all about her life in the city, about her advertising job and how much she’d hated it. We talk about it until the sun is setting and my kitchen is getting dark around me, and after she hangs up, the cabin feels lonelier than it ever has. Even after we say our goodbyes, I’m still left wanting to hear her voice again, to talk to her more.
Now is the wrong time to be thinking about dating anyone. I just met Mia earlier today, but there’s something about her. I can’t help but listen to those thoughts in my head. I think I’ve been lonelier up here than I’ve let myself realize.