I rubbed a hand down my face and groaned.
The cabin was a mess.
My life was a mess.
I was a mess.
I knew it. And now my neighbor knew it too.
I leaned my head back against the couch cushions and glanced up at the ceiling. “Step one: shower. Step two: eat something that isn’t dirt.”
After my shower, I realized just how hungry I was. And because I refused to eat canned beans and sardines, I decided it was time to try going into town. Which meant I was going to have to look in the garage to see if there was a way to get there. I found the opener in the kitchen junk drawer, then opened the one door I hadn't yet touched and hesitantly pressed the button.
The door groaned its way up, creaking in protest, and I waited with bated breath, bracing myself for more disorganization and grime that was likely to be revealed.
The first thing revealed by the light was millions of cobwebs.
They were on pretty mucheverything.And I got theheebie-jeebies instantaneously. I really, really despised spiders.
But then I saw the ancient Honda Civic peeking out beneath the cobwebs and dust, and thoughts of spiders biting me in my sleep were overtaken by my joy. I might not have to walk everywhere after all, or spend all my savings on Ubers. Would my location even show up on Uber? I didn’t know, but I really hoped I wouldn’t have to find out.
The car was extremely old but appeared to be intact.
I whispered a prayer.Please, let this car run.
I weaved my way through the maze of boxes, cringing when I felt cobwebs brush up against me, and tugged open the door.
The interior wasn’t bad; it just needed some all-purpose upholstery cleaner and leather polish. Then I saw the keys sitting in the cup holder like they’d been waiting for me all along.
Sliding into the seat, I gripped the wheel and closed my eyes. Turning the ignition, I held my breath.
“Please…” I whispered.
The Civic sputtered. Then it made a sound suspiciously like a dying animal, and then finally roared to life.
I squealed and clapped my hands. “Thank you, thank you!” I gave the dusty dashboard a loving pat.
The gas gauge showed a quarter tank, and that would be enough to get me to pancakes.
“Time for some carbs.”
CHAPTER 4
Grizzly Manor Cafe was an adorable little breakfast place with wood siding and a giant brown bear statue out front.
Inside, aSeat Yourselfsign directed me to a window seat with a view of the mountains. I dropped into the booth and flipped open the laminated menu. I immediately searched forall the fixings.
The Grizzly Breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes. Just how I liked it.
“Morning,” the waitress greeted me. She had kind blue eyes and short curly brown hair. “I’m Bonnie. What can I get you?”
“The Grizzly Breakfast, please. And hot chocolate. With extra whipped cream.” I grinned, already excited for the sugar rush.
Bonnie chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
While I waited, I studied the café: stickers plastered every wall, table, and even the ceiling. There were ski stickers, camping pun stickers, and even stickers fromother places around the world. It reminded me of Emily’s van.
A wave of homesickness sat heavily in my stomach for a few minutes until my food arrived, and then it grumbled with hunger instead.
