Amber
Why is it that whenever things seem to be good for a moment, your mind can’t seem to let things be. I am feeling good, Granite and I are safe and happy, and we now have the opportunity of a new home to be able to still live out our mountainside fantasy together. But now I was worrying about the possibility of being pregnant again. I had beensurethat I wasn’t pregnant. I still was sure – kind of. I am only a day or two late for my period and that is definitely not a big deal at all. Some months I could be a whole week or so late and it was not that unusual. I hadn’t been feeling sick anymore, so I think that everything is probably fine. But still, the nagging worry pestered me and wouldn’t leave me alone, until finally I gave in and went to the store to buy a test.
I felt comfortable going to the store by myself ever since Granite and I had changed our hair. I feel like no one knows who I am anymore, especially since my long and lighter hair had been exchanged for shoulder-length, black tresses. We didn’t go for the colored contacts since the new hair styles seemed drastic enough. I actually kind of like my new look; it feels like a fresh start.
When I get the test and bring it back to the cottage, I am too nervous to even take it. I stuff it behind a stack of towels in the bathroom to stash away for later in case I need it. When my period does come, which I’m sure that it will, I’ll just throw the test away.
“You ready?” Granite asks as he comes down the hallway just as I am leaving the bathroom.
“Yep,” I smile.
This afternoon we are taking a day-hike to go and find the cabin that the old woman had told us about. I am excited to see it and I can tell that Granite is too. He isn’t afraid of a fixer-upper. He’s just happy at the prospect of having a home again. After a nice few-mile walk in the cool daytime, we spot the little gem of a cabin nestled inside of a small nook in the mountains with the most gorgeous view. We walk inside, hand-in-hand, after retrieving the key from its hiding place that she had told us about. The cabin is in definite disrepair, but it’s nothing that Granite cannot fix. It’s going to beperfect.
That night, when we return to the cottage, we tell her all about the fixing-up that we are planning to do. Her eyes light up when she listens, and she even gets excited enough to make a few suggestions which are great ideas we plan to include in our renovations. That night as we are lying in bed, I tell Granite how excited I am to take her to see the cabin once we are finished with it.
“It should only take me a few weeks to get everything in working order in the cabin,” Granite says as I lay against his chest and feel his fingers trace down the side of my arm.
“I’m really glad we came here,” I say.
“Me too,” he says as he kisses the top of my head.
If only the old woman would have gotten the chance to see her husband’s cabin one last time. In the morning when we woke up, we found that she had passed away in her sleep. I wanted to stay with her after the ambulance had been called, but Granite insisted that we leave. He said that it’s too dangerous to be here when all of the emergency workers get here and start to ask us questions like our names and things that we weren’t prepared to answer, and I knew that he was right.
