“Every single word. I’ve got this, Will.”
She huffs and rolls her head back. “Keep me informed.” After stabbing me with her best death glare, Willow wraps me up in a quick hug. “Invite me to the wedding! And the minute your husband kicks you out for being a U.S. citizen, know that you have a couch to come back to.”
“That isn’t going to happen.” I shake my head, not at all convinced but faking it for the both of us. “Roman said he just wanted to help me. He will be. I’ll help him and he’ll help me. Just not in the way he thinks he is.”
“Your life went from tragic to insane. You know that, right?”
I drag my suitcase behind me, Willow following. “I do.” I smirk. I sound like I’m practicing for the big day.
“Don’t forget your Spiral Song.” She hurries over to the TV stand and picks up my damaged vase.
I pull in a deep breath and exhale. “You keep it. Call it a gift. Throw it away if you want.”
She hugs the vase to her chest. “It’s still beautiful. Damaged isn’t the same as broken.”
I stare at the glossy blue-and-white swirls of my labor of love pressed close to Willow. I’m not sure if she’s talking about me or the vase.
“Okay, Stella,”I say to myself. “You’ve got this. Clothes, toothbrush, pottery wheel.” I have everything I need. “As well as directions to Roman’s cabin in the Tesoro woods. I’ve got this. I don’t have to be a big fat failure at, well,everything.” However, I have not convinced myself. I am exactly two hours and eleven minutes from my new home. One that won’t evict me. One that won’t judge me. One that will be quiet and peaceful and ready for an introverted, reflective, creative type like me.
I puff out my cheeks and blow a gust of air from my lips.
Finding my Elton John best hits playlist, I belt song after song from a time long before my birth. By the time I reach my turn off into the woods, I am exhausted. I have given my Mini Cooper, my pottery wheel, and my PJs one heck of a concert.
“Oh!” I say. “Roman said to call once I reached this point.” He wanted to know when to watch for me. I guess in case I get lost. I peer out at the windy road ahead and the ominous pines stretching up to the sky. Or maybe he wanted to know to look for my bones in case I get eaten.
I text the newly added name and number in my phone:
Me: At the turn off. See you in fifteen.
Roman: Remember, the GPS isn’t updated. It got you to the dirt road, but no matter what it says, it won’t get you to the house. Stay on the main road until that first turn, take a right there. Then take the second left. Head out for a couple miles and the house will be on the right.
He’s already told me this, but I don’t mind Roman not wanting me to get eaten in the woods. I’m pretty grateful actually. I pull onto the dirt road and head into the pines at a snail’s pace. Ten minutes later, I take that first turn. My confidence grows, and I pick up my speed.
I see the next turn, just up ahead. I’m so close to my new home sweet home when everything screeches to a halt. I slam on the brakes. My seatbelt locks, jerking my back into my seat as I come to a complete stop. A fluffy black-and-white tail with two twin pups following wanders across the road. Stretching my neck, I give myself a better view of the little kamikaze crew.
“Aww, skunk family.” I exhale through my nose, pulse thudding. “Whoa. I almost killed a whole skunk family.”
Slow and steady, the three meander until they make it across the dirt road where they escape into the deep woods.
My heart pounds in my ears. I breathe in and out through my nose, my nostrils flaring. With my eyes focused ahead, I see my turn. It’s close. But I can’t quite stop my foot from smashing into the brake, when—tap, tap, tap.
I suck in another gust of air and turn to my driver’s side window. Roman stares at me in gray sweatpants and a tan zip-up jacket. How can someone look like a GQ model in sweats? Is that possible? Clearly it is. But is it fair?
I swallow and roll down my driver’s side window.
“You okay? It’s been twenty minutes. I thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”
I peer up at Roman, the boy I once knew and trusted. “I almost killed a skunk family.” My confession comes out in a gust. “Afamily, Roman!” Blood rushes to my fingertips as I grip the steering wheel tight.
“A family?”
“Yes,” I groan. “A mom and two little baby skunks just crossed the road. Right in front of my car! They came out of nowhere. They almost died because of me. Some skunk daddy would have been waiting and waiting and waiting, only to have his family lost forever.”
“Maybe they should have stopped for you. You had the right of way. Maybe they almost died because they’re impatient. They should pay better attention before walking out into the road.” He grins at me—and for two seconds, I’m back in time. The trees have parted, the sun is shining through, and true joy has made its way into the depths of my Mini Cooper. That smile has always been magical.
A shaky breath slips from my lips that has nothing to do with almost becoming a skunk murderer.
“Can I get in?” he asks, pointing to my car.
