There was a note pinned to the door. He snatched it down, gathered the boots and bag, and went
back inside.
He dropped the boots and brought the bag to the kitchen table, rifling through its contents. There was a Tupperware container with some muffins, butter, and a banana. Next to that was a small plastic bottle of orange juice with a green cap, and a pint of milk. But the real prize was in a smaller
Tupperware. He lifted the lid, bringing the container to his nose and the rich fragrant smell of freshly ground coffee wafted through his nostrils.
"Oh my God," was all he could say as he went directly for the kitchen and the plastic Mr. Coffee maker on the counter. He eyed a roll of paper towels before he found a real filter in the cabinet
above.
As the coffee was brewing, he went back to the table and the note. It was written on paper from
a pad advertisingBuddy's Bodega: All your mountain needs under one roof! Melody, Montana.The note read:
Alec,
Thought you might need some grub before practicing on the Titan and buying groceries. I
think the boots will fit you but if they don't Buddy will size you up at the store. I left some wood (incase they don't fit). Thought you might need to warm the place up for breakfast. You can thankMarge for that. She's Buddy's wife. I'll bring your suitcases a little later.
You're welcome.
Tyler
Alec laid the letter on the flat surface of the table and looked around. Seeing the cabin in the
daylight for the first time he noticed several things that were not apparent to him in the stupor of last night's awkward arrival. The decor was dated, likereallydated—as if the place were a second home. Probably was. I mean, who would have lived here regularly. The walls were paneling, which
antiquated anything style-wise as far as Alec was concerned. You just didn't see much lodge decor in Dupont Circle.
The color scheme of the few painted walls was similar to that popular in trendy restaurants of
yore, burgundy, and forest green. It wasn't awful, and it was clean… just outdated. Paradoxically, the setting he found himself in was vastly new, secluded beyond any measure of seclusion he'd ever
known. Combined, it was like traveling in time—alone… not only where, but when.
The hinges and cabinet hardware were brass, as were the doorknobs. And the plush rug
between the sofa and fireplace looked fresh, new even, but its paisley swirls were the same
burgundies, greens, and golds of yesteryear. He could overlook the old-fashioned decor though
because everything was so neat and clean… even smelled fresh.
No. He didn't mind the decor at all, quite the contrary—it was welcome and cozy.
He brought some wood in and laid it in the grate. The embers from the night before were still
glowing and he stirred them, adding a few pieces of kindling and paper until they caught. He stood with his back to flames warming up. From here he could see the kitchen, its Formica counters, the
plastic coffee maker, the GE toaster oven, the electric spiral eyes of the stove.
It was like being a kid again.
He considered exploring other areas—drawers, cabinets, closets—for other distinctions but
decided to leave it for later. First, he should check in with Demarco. Let him know everything was OK.
