“This is adorable,” I say.
“There’s a small pond, and it’s even swimmable,” Ron points to the pond across the clearing.
“Wow, that’s great,” Thomas responds.
“Come on, let's show you inside,” Dottie says, climbing out of the UTV.
We all follow, heading up to the front door of thecottage. The door opens with a slight creak, and Ron gestures for us to enter.
The interior is small, with the kitchen on the far side of the room. It’s nothing special, a small fridge, stove, sink and a few countertops. The pots and pans hang from one of those fancy things from the ceiling, and a small vase filled with wildflowers is on the countertop. There aren’t any cupboards, just planks of wood lining the room with bowls, plates, cups, mugs and seasonings organized on them.
To the right is a staircase leading up to a lofted level. I think I spot a bed up there, but I’m not sure. It’s hard to tell from this angle. To my left is a sectional couch facing the TV hanging from the wall. In the opposite corner, a small wood fireplace sits on a ledge.
Dottie brings us further into the cozy cottage, telling us where we can find everything, and showing us the bathroom off the kitchen. She and Ron lead us upstairs to show us what is, in fact, the bedroom. There’s a queen-sized bed up here, made up with what appears to be a handmade quilt. My stomach flips with the confirmation that we will be sharing a bed.
I can sense Thomas’s eyes on me with that confirmation, but I refuse to look at him right now. Thankfully, the light is dim up here, so I’m hopeful he can’t see how red my face is.
We head back downstairs and outside for Ron to show us a few more things, but honestly, I’m not paying much attention. I’m too lost in my head, which isn’t even functioning properly with how tired I am.
How long will we be here? A week? A month? A year? Will Thomas get sick of me in that time? Will he wish he never said we were engaged? The questions ricochetthrough my brain, and I lose my grip on what’s happening in front of me, zoning out on a knot in a piece of wood in the siding.
My mind whirs through possible interactions and scenarios, each one ending worse than the last, until there’s a soft tap on my shoulder. “Hannah, are you okay?” Dottie asks, her soft voice pulling me back to the present.
I shake off the thoughts, offering her a small smile. “I’m fine, just a lot going on is all.”
“I’m sure. You two look like you need some sleep. I can tell Ron we need to call it quits. This can all wait until tomorrow.” I try to stop her, to tell her we’re fine, but she shushes me. “Ronnie, we need to let these kids get some sleep. Let's go get their car so they can unload and get settled. This can wait till tomorrow.”
Ron straightens from where he was showing Thomas a drainpipe. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Thomas waves him off. “It’s fine, really.”
They won’t hear any of it, though. “Stay here,” Dottie goes as far as saying. “We will go get your vehicle.”
They don’t let us protest before taking the keys from Thomas and heading back to the main house in the side by side.
Thomas and I stand there a little dumbfounded as we watch them leave. “I’m exhausted,” he finally says. “Come on, freckles. Let’s wait inside.”
The air is muggy and humid, so I’m thankful for the two window air conditioning units, one in the living room, and one upstairs. The coolness feels wonderful on my skin, and I kick off my shoes and sink into the comfortable couch right away.
Thomas unhooks Arson’s leash from his collar, andArson bounds over to me. He settles at my feet, running his face along my shins, pressing his nose hard. “Hi, buddy,” I say, scratching his neck. “What do you think of the cottage?”
He nudges me again, as if he is trying to tell me he likes it.
Thomas sits down beside me, reaching out to rub Arson’s nose, too. “Sleep?” he questions.
“I kinda want to shower again, I feel really grimy, but then, yes.”
“Ditto,” Thomas rubs his eyes under his glasses. “I can’t even think straight.”
“Hmm,” I can only mutter in response. The sound of the trunk opening pulls me from the haze momentarily, and Thomas and I both stand to head out and help grab our things.
Ten minutes later, Dottie and Ron have helped us with our bags, giving us a few final notes, and their phone number with instructions to use the landline and call them if we need anything, promising to stop by tomorrow to check in.
With them gone, I’m left feeling awkward, unsure of what to do next. Thomas and I bring our bags upstairs, but after, it’s like a guessing game. We don’t know what to do, or what to say, so it’s awkward, this weird tenseness in the air.
“Do you want to shower first?” Thomas asks, gesturing down the stairs.
“Sure,” I reply, quickly digging into my bag for a pair of shorts and shirt I can change into as well as my bathroom things.
