For the rest of the night, it’s just me and her, and I do my best not to think about that woman —Lacey— and what trouble she might be running into at Jasper’s cabin.
CHAPTER 5
LACEY
The first thing I do when I open the door to Jasper’s cabin is scream.
I was sure I’d seen ahugespider run up the side of the door frame. Unfortunately, it’s just a daddy long-legs, which doesn’t bode well for how I’m going to manage out here. Even as I wound my way further up the road, the trees on either side started to look more and more ominous, deep shadows stretching through the woods, almost like they were reaching out toward me.
“Why do youlookso scary if you’re harmless?” I mutter, flattening my back against the door to give him plenty of room as I slide into the cabin.
It’s dark and cool inside, which is surprising, given how hot it was today, but the mountain air seems to have a quality about it that chills quickly, like it just can’t hold onto heat. The cabin also smells slightly musty, and I wonder when Jasper came up here last.
In his final months, it had felt like he was spending more time in San Francisco. The thought makes my heart squeeze, especially when I know he would have been so much happier out here.
And especially when I think about all the times I blew him off for work, even at the end. Once more, anger rises up in me, and I wish Jasper had told me.
“Not going to think about it,” I mutter to myself, then I realize I’ve only been alone for ten minutes up here and I’m already talking to myself.
That must be what was wrong with that neighbor. Max. The way he went from being, if not friendly, at least amenable to a conversation, to looking like he couldn’t stomach the sight of me. It was like whiplash, like something I did or said really put him off.
It’s Montana, not a different country. I didn’t think about differences in culture before beginning my road trip out here.
As I move through the cabin, I try to flick on some of the lights, but nothing comes on. That’s fine; it makes sense. Jasper would have turned off the electricity, surely.
I couldn’t really make out the cabin in the dark, and I’ll have to wait until the morning to get a sense of what the exterior looks like.
It was hard to make out in just the glow of my headlights, but I can already tell I’ll need to make some updates if I want this to work as a rental. Jasper might have been a great builder, but he was never into interior decorating. His house in San Francisco was a testament to that. All cobbled-together furniture or stuff he picked up from the curb, swearing it was fine and didn’t have to match.
When Mom or I tried to prompt him into buying his own furniture — which he certainly could have afforded, or we could have bought as a gift — he’d shake his head.You gotta focus on function more than fashion, Bug.
I laugh to myself now, then stub my toe on a dresser and swear under my breath, almost feeling like it’s a message from Jasper.Don’t make fun of me. Andthatmakes me sad, and lonely, in this big, dark cabin.
Three rooms, but just me staying.
When I get to the bedroom, I’m glad to find passably clean sheets and a warm quilt in the closet. I quickly put the bed together, starting to shiver, and climb under the covers, opening my phone to scroll on it like I normally do before bed.
Except now, when I pull up Instagram, then TikTok, nothing loads. Sighing, I set the phone down and roll onto my back, realizing this is the longest I’ve ever gone without checking my Gaia email.
Then, before I really realize what’s happening, I drift off into a strange, almost weightless dream.
“Comeon, comeon!”I urge, pressing my foot down as hard as it will go on the pedal.
This morning, I woke up to the feeling of the sun shining in through the windows onto my face, and the fact that I wasn’t jolting awake to the sound of my alarm or the hiss of the espresso machine instantly made me panic. I’ve gotten so usedto nearly being late to work that it took me a full five minutes to remember that Icouldn’tgo to work today.
Then I tried to check my email, remembered the thing about not having service, set my phone down, and immediately picked it up again, opening the email app. I did that twice more, before deciding to take a shower.
But when I got into the bathroom and cranked the handle for the spigot, I got a few sputters, then a blasting stream offreezingwater. So, I dug out some dry shampoo, wiped down with a washcloth, and decided getting hot water would be the very first item on my to-do list.
I also realized that though the cabinets were full of plates and bowls, cups and mugs, coffee tools, and some boring cans and rice in the pantry, norealfood was to be found anywhere. No milk, nothing in the empty, warm refrigerator. Which is probably a good thing, or I’d have a bunch of spoiled food to contend with.
So, stomach growling and head starting to pound with a demand for caffeine, I hopped in the car, already feeling better at the thought of heading into the nearest ‘town’ — not False Summit or Summit, but the little village at the base of the mountain — to get coffee and something to eat.
Now, I press even harder against the pedal, feeling the tires spinning uselessly behind my car. It must have rained last night because the road is a lot softer than I remember, and I’m getting the feeling that I might be making the situation worse by trying to muscle out of it. I have no idea. This is the first time in my life I’ve taken this car — or any car, actually — onto something other than pavement. When Jasper and I went on our trips tothe national forests, I was too young to drive, and we took his 4Runner anyway.
So maybe there’s some sort of technique I should be using?—
“Let up on the accelerator,” a deep, male voice says out of nowhere.
