MAKAI TURNEDright where the map had indicated he should, and it looked like there would be two more crossroads before he’d be on the road to his cottage. He was on time, at least he thought so. There hadn’t been a set time with the real estate guy—an old prejudiced fart, Lotte had called him, charming—just an agreement to see him at the cottage after Makai’s meeting with the sheriff.
He found the cottage easily, even though the last bit of road was well hidden and long grass was growing in the middle. At least it didn’t have many bumps, otherwise Makai’s sturdy but used truck might have not made it.
The road led him from inside the woods into a clearing where the cottage stood. There was an SUV parked nearby, and Makai picked a random spot to park the truck.
The cottage was pretty much how he’d imagined it based on the pictures, including the light cream color Makai thought he would like to change to something else over time. The door was closed, so he rounded the building.
The backyard had grown into a mess of neglect and hid a patch that must’ve been a vegetable garden once. Since he couldn’t hear anything and was sure Mr. Kelly would’ve heard his truck if he was inside the cottage, he started toward the path that led slightly downward to the lake.
As soon as he was in the highest point of his little yard, the lake came into view below. An old dock made home on his side, and what he thought must’ve been Lotte and Joie’s house sat on the opposite side.
A man who could only be Mr. Kelly stood at the shore, looking at the slightly rippling water. He turned around and noticed Makai.
“Oh, hello! You stay there and I’ll join you!” he called out and started the short trek up.
Without anything to do except wait, Makai walked along the edge of the backyard until he met Mr. Kelly by the cottage.
“Mr. Stone, nice to meet you!” Mr. Kelly said and vigorously shook Makai’s hand.
“Mr. Kelly, I presume,” he replied dryly.
“Yes, yes! Let’s see, there’s some paperwork you need to sign and get copies of, and keys, yes, mustn’t forget the keys,” Mr. Kelly rambled on in a distracted tone as he waddled to the front yard. Makai assumed he had his suitcase in the car and was proven right soon.
The man beamed at him and gestured at the cottage. “Would you like a tour or to look around by yourself?”
“Uh, I think I’m pretty much done with people for today, so I’ll explore by myself. Thank you, though,” he tagged to the end, just to be polite.
“Alrighty, I can understand that!”
Makai signed the paperwork, got his copies and a hefty set of keys.
“Now these are to the front door, this one is for the shed, and there’s an old root cellar on the other side of the yard there.” Mr. Kelly pointed vaguely. “The boat shed on the shore is in a bad condition. I wouldn’t even go inside, but that, too, had a lock at some point, so that’s why there are so many keys.”
“Okay. Sounds good to me. Thank you again,” Makai said and went to shake hands.
Mr. Kelly held on to his hand and looked at him with a sort of benevolent expression, and already Makai knew he wasn’t going to like what he said next.
“It’s so nice to see someone like you buy property, you know. So nice.”
Finally, the man let go, and Makai gritted his teeth to keep from blurting out something he shouldn’t. “Well, if there’s anything wrong, I assume I can call you?”
“Yes, yes, there’s my card tacked onto the papers. Give me a call if you need anything.”
“Okay, well, thanks, and I’ll see you around,” Makai said and watched as the real estate agent got into his SUV and drove off.
Someone like you. He wasn’t sure if Mr. Kelly had meant someone who’d done some serious time or just someone brown, but he didn’t care much for either implication. Casual racism was so fucked-up. It wasn’t like the man had even realized he was saying anything negative, on the contrary.Jesus.
Makai rolled his shoulders and took in a deep breath of clean air. He looked at the cottage and smiled. Chuckling under his breath, he went to open the door.
THE COTTAGEwas quite basic, with the front door near the corner of the living area. There was a window on the left and under it a small table. Behind that, in the opposite corner, an open door led to what the real estate agent had said was a utility room.
On the right a closet stood against a wall, and when Makai turned around it, a kitchen opened into the living area. There had been a wall between the kitchen and the rest of the living room, but Mr. Kelly had said that knocking down the wall had been the last bit of renovation the children of the last owners had done five or so years ago.
The kitchen slash living area had a fireplace and space for a couch and the small table. Makai thought he needed to build some shelves for his books, as there was one rickety-looking old thing against a wall, and that just wouldn’t do, not when he could get all the books he wanted now.
The bedroom was small, and he’d need to get a proper bed instead of the ancient foldout. He guessed there would be a shop in Mercer or the closest bigger town, Woodruff, that delivered. He’d also have to build a dresser for himself, because there was an obvious space where one had been, including a paler spot in the old wallpaper.
The bathroom could be accessed through the bedroom, making an illusion of a master bath. Just like the rest of the cottage, the space was basic but surprisingly big. Probably because the tub had been replaced by a shower and the sink stood alone without a counter and didn’t take much space. The small window faced the forest, and Makai thought it would be good ventilation for the bathroom.
