I wondered if Tav went to the small cabin in the valley like he’d said he would if the car was gone.
I began to wonder if it would be safe if I tried hiking out of the car in the morning, just to see if it was there or not. But then, what if I twisted an ankle or worse? Tav had taken the only survival pack with him and I figured if I started rationing my food now I would foreseeably have enough between the canned goods and rice to last me into Spring if necessary.
Would I stay that long?
I hoped not.
But if it came down to me and this mountain, I’d go down fighting. I only hoped I wouldn’t have to figure out exactly what that meant. Growing up in flat Lancaster left me with little experience of mountains. Mom always had us volunteering for local community projects like the volunteer dog park or after-school daycare programs. I spent almost every Christmas scooping macaroni and cheese for the kid’s line at the church potluck. My mother believed in service first, fun later. Ornever.
I collapsed onto the king bed, angling my eyes to the stars hanging over the mountains.
What other surprises did Tav have? And what did his family do exactly that allowed them Christmastime in a luxury ski resort every year? Based on his new brawny physique and his admission that he’d been to the gun rangewith the guysmore than a few times, I was beginning to think he could be undercover for all I knew. Maybe the contracts with the department were a cover. But then, how did this house fit into the story?
Tav had bundled me up here thinking he was making my dreams come true, but maybe this washisdream. With his boarding school charm and the athletic cut to his jaw, he looked right at home on a set of skis. In fact, the only thing that would look more natural on him would be a tall, blonde model to match his rugged, professional athlete-good looks.
I fell asleep imagining Tav with a sparkly Hollywood siren on his arm, double agents like Mr. and Mrs. Smith, with a football field full of secrets between them.
Fourteen
I watched her somber form take the steps down from the chalet, each step measured and with a stroke of sadness. It wasn’t easy, what I assumed she’d done within those imposing walls. But she’d known what she had to do. She’d taken it a step too far. It was time.
She plopped onto a bench at the sidewalk and broke down into torrents of tears. Dark hair fell around her shoulders, obscuring her from my view, but I was rooted. I couldn’t take a picture if I tried. No one deserved to have the very moment when the life they thought they knew fell out from under them captured on film. If she only knew the real story.
It’s only the tip of the iceberg, baby.
My instincts told me to go to her, hold her in my arms and offer her some sense of comfort, but then I laughed with ironic spite, realizing how unwelcome my comfort would be.
I was the man that would soon be responsible for taking her lifeapart one perfect piece at a time.
Fifteen
I counted exactly twenty black beans and slid them across the plate. I gave the rest in the bowl a stir, and then replaced the air-tight lid and returned it to the refrigerator shelf.
Tav had been gone for three days.
My ninth day here.
I’d started seriously rationing my intake yesterday morning. It felt good to exercise power over something. I fingered the stack of unopened tortilla wraps, wondering if I dared give up one for dinner tonight.
I sighed, closing the door and then scooped the last of the rice I’d made for dinner last night onto my plate.
I’d come across an oldNational Geographichardcover in the small study off of the main hallway. The book detailed the highest mountains in the Northeast. I’d taken a shot at guessing which my mountain top was, but it didn’t matter, the short paragraph said that these peaks regularly saw snowstorms into the month of June. While I’d been imagining lockdown until Spring, the mountain may have other plans.
I ate my beans two-at-a-time, remembering the last time I was this careful about what I put in my body when my group of closest girlfriends had challenged each other to a week-long fast before junior prom. I’d give anything to have my boring old self back with boring regular problems like gaining too much weight before a big event.
Three small beeps echoed around the room then. The screen near the door blinked once and off. I wondered if I could turn that damn thing off, the distraction it provided nowhere near worth the convenience. I crossed the dining room to see what it was beeping about now. The only indication was a tiny red dot in the corner with what looked like a camera icon.
Like the house was recording.
“Hello?”
No answer. Of course no answer.
I’m losing my mind.
My eyes trained to the distance out the window, heaps of sugary white powder as far as the eye could see.
I swiped the binoculars from the side table and brought them to my face, focusing on the tiny cabin in the valley in the distance. It looked no bigger than a dollhouse from here, but if I focused long enough I swear I could almost see a figure working in the backyard.
