Authors: Carol Lawson
She seemed to scoff at him with a little muted chuckle and looked back out the window, her fist under her chin. Her long hair had started to dry and he turned the heat down. Her thin arms seemed hunched forward, probably from carrying such a heavy backpack. Like him, she was probably wiry under those clothes, the lean sort of muscle that came from being used every day. Her small breasts under the layers of wool sweaters heaved as she took in a deep long grateful breath.
“Port Angeles is just up ahead,” he said quietly. “Is there somewhere you want to get dropped off?”
She smiled again. “Thanks, Shane. It doesn’t really matter.”
“Do you have a hotel reservation or…” he felt kind of stupid for asking.
Where does a girl like Lily stay anyway
, he wondered.
“No, that’s okay. There’s probably a shelter or something, I’ll ask my way around,” she said, bundling up her raincoat again and putting it in her lap as he pulled off onto the main exit.
Shane balked. She had nowhere to go, no plans whatsoever. A storm had started to come in off the coast, blotting out the sky almost as if by magic. It was still late afternoon but it well could have been evening the way the sun had disappeared, and he felt something twist in his gut. An uncertainty.
He stopped in a parking lot of a McDonald’s and Lily undid her seat belt and stretched into the backseat to grab her pack and he caught another whiff of her. That same warm familiar scent that reminded him of a cozy cottage, a fireplace, a nest of blankets. Something that was comforting.
“I’m glad you picked me up, Shane. It was really nice of you, honest. I wish I had something to give you in return. Still, it was a good conversation. I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she smiled at him, pulling on her raincoat again.
She opened the door and he felt another grip of panic. Like if he didn’t say something right now he’d regret it forever and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t believe in the paranormal, and to him there was such a thing as coincidence. The tendency to believe in fate or synchronicity, he had always thought, was a weak-minded way of trying to account for things that didn’t make sense. A way to make circumstances fit desire.
There were coincidences every day, but that didn’t make them any less special when they happened, he realized. For better or worse, Lily was a happy coincidence. He had chosen to stop and give her a ride. And in return, she had given him a glimpse into a way of living he had only dreamed about or read in books.
“Wait!” he said quickly, and Lily froze, looking in at him.
“What’s the matter?” she asked quickly, her elfin features scanning his own dark eyes for a hint of what had caused his outburst.
“I can’t just… ugh. I can’t just leave you in the rain like this, with nowhere to go all alone. Especially with the weather getting worse like this,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she said, trying to cheer him up, “like I said, I’m used to-”
“I know, but I couldn’t live with myself if I just dropped you off helpless like this. You said you have nowhere to go, right? Well, I’ve never actually been to this cabin before, but you’re more than welcome to come with me. I know there’s a guest room. At least you’ll have a warm place to sleep. And dry off.”
He realized how creepy he had just sounded.
Come with me to my secluded cabin.
Right, like that wasn’t the beginning of a bad B-movie horror flick. Lily looked around at the parking lot and back at Shane, vacillating between a decision, and then lifted her shoulders.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s the least I can do,” he said.
She beamed at him and jumped back into the car seat and promptly strapped in the seatbelt. He simply stared at her with a bewildered look on his face until she turned innocently toward him and put her hands in her lap.
“My mother always told me, never decline the kindness of strangers,” she said matter-of-factly, and pouted her lips at him.
He let out a small laugh. “I must be crazy,” he said.
“Crazy’s good sometimes,” she said, “also, if you call me ‘helpless’ again I’ll clock you.”
He gave her a wry look and held up his hands in front of him in mock terror.
“Never again,” he said, and pulled out of the parking lot.
3.
The cabin ended up being further away than anticipated, and by the time Shane and Lily managed to find the turn-off road that would lead them up to the acreage, it was already around six and evening was on the horizon. Luckily, Lily had the diligence and clarity of mind to ask for instructions on how to find the place from an old couple that ran a gas station in the nearby village. Apparently the cabin had been an old trapping hut, at least a hundred years old and nestled in a small valley below the majestic Olympia mountain range. Already they could feel the cold plummet of the mountain elevation swimming down the valley, which was composed of old growth cedar and western hemlock.
The cabin, according to the couple, was on an old Forest Service Road that had been partially deactivated, and that made Shane worry a bit. The Toyota SUV had four wheel drive, but it wasn’t really designed for off-road use, and in fact, he’d never really taken it on anything other than pavement and city highways. Nevertheless, they found the turn-off easily enough, and it was marked with an old weather faded sign that said “Nixon” on it.
The road became a bit bumpier and Lily held onto the handle above the passenger window and would make a
Whoo
sound every time Shane negotiated a rain-slick corner or washboard on the dirt road.
“Are you having fun yet?” she cooed at him.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever doubted my driving skills,” he muttered, flicking on the high headlights.
The forest and valley in front of them opened up, and they could see that the road was following a small creek that ran beside the road. Ahead of them steep cliffs peered down into a basin which was surrounded by tall snow-capped mountains.
“Oh my god, this is beautiful,” Lily said, “I wish the rain would let up, I bet it’s an amazing view. Do you have a camera?”
“I might,” he said, indicating the glove-box.
“If it’s sunny tomorrow, we have to take a picture,” she said.
The road finally started to improve and opened up onto a flat field of clover and buttercups, and in front of them they could make out a small rectangular shape of a building with a green tin roof.
“Well, we’re here,” he said.
“Looks a bit scary,” she observed, “two strangers, one a hitchhiker, arrive at a lonely cabin in the middle of a stormy night. Dun dun dunnnn.”
“I was just thinking that. Please refrain from murdering me in the night,” he said, joining in the joke.
Lily grabbed her backpack and the two of them hurried over the muddy lawn to the entrance of the cabin, ducking under the sheet of water that fell of the eaves. The door was unlocked, and Shane didn’t imagine there was much need for security. If someone came this far, they might as well have earned the right to go inside, he figured.
A small generator in the back kicked on when he hit the light switch and both he and Lily were surprised at the interior. It was actually much nicer than both of them had been led to believe. Lily dropped her pack beside a nice leather couch that faced the fireplace, where wood had neatly been stacked in a pile against one wall. The walls themselves were all logs and a few square windows let in light from the car headlights.
“Homey,” she observed, squatting down beside the fireplace and crumpling up some newspapers that had been left.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Making a fire, of course. We don’t want to freeze to death.”
He realized how silly he looked now, standing in the doorway in a wet suit and mud spattered ankles, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides while this little nymph of a woman in front of him was busy making a fire. “I’ll uh… bring the supplies,” he said, awkwardly.
When he came back in with an armful of groceries he’d picked up – eggs, canned food, apples – Lily already had the fire crackling in the old stone fireplace and held her hands in front of it.
“Oh good, you got food!” she said, holding her arms.
“Yeah, a bit meager but I think it’ll have to do for now. Do you have some dry clothes? Why don’t you go change and I’ll try and fix something up for dinner?”
Lily made a little mock curtsy and fished through her backpack for some dry clothes and disappeared into the bathroom while Shane peeled off his own wet charcoal suit and draped it over the mantle of the fireplace. He pulled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt and went to work, cutting vegetables and adding them to the cast iron skillet he found hanging on an iron hook above the sink.
It was one of the many little ‘hobbies’ he’d undertaken of his own volition as a way to try and make his life more interesting, more purposeful. More of a way to distract himself from the boredom of work and his days than anything else. It hadn’t really worked, but he had earned himself some culinary skills regardless, and now at least they’d come in handy.
He already had a medley of stir-fry sizzling in the pan when Lily returned from the bathroom. She wore a very loose-fitting black tank-top that had a Japanese symbol emblazoned in white on the chest, and was just short enough that when she lifted her arms a glint of white flesh peeked out above the top of her jeans. Several holes in the knees peered through the rubbed denim fabric, and Shane could tell instantly that they were legitimate holes. Not like the weird trendy types he saw in stores in Seattle that came with pre-ripped slashes. The holes in her pants had been abraded through years of wearing them, and somehow the casual punk style appealed to him.
“That smells amazing!” she said, lifting her arms over head and stretching backward. Shane glimpsed the jutting bones of her lithe hips and navel and blushed as he lowered his gaze back at the cooking.
“Almost ready,” he said, and felt her hands pressing on his shoulders as she tried to look over them at the meal.
“Let me taste,” she said, and he held out the wooden spoon with a clump of onion and hamburger for her. “Delicious, definitely.”
She pulled off his shoulders and pranced back to the fireplace, and began to hang up her wet clothes on the mantle next to this suit jacket. He piled the stir-fry into two plates and brought them over to the fireplace where Lily had arranged the table for them and sat down on the rug.
“Oh! Wait!” she said quickly and hopped up on bare feet toward her backpack. It took her several minutes to find it, but she pulled out a bottle of wine and brought over two glasses.
“You always carry wine with you, little nomad?” he asked.
“Always. You never know when you’ll need a little, especially when you’re in a bad spot. Wine is my guide at the worst of times.
In vino veritas
, right?” she said, pouring him a glass and holding up her own.
“In wine, there is wisdom,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.
“I may never have gone to a fancy college or anything, but that doesn’t mean I’m a ditz. I read a lot. Usually two to three books a week for ten years. Lots of time waiting on the side of the road for a ride, after all,” she said, taking a deep draught.
“That’s like fifteen-hundred books,” Shane said, almost choking on his wine.
She winked at him and started to dig into the meal. Shane watched her intently for several moments.
Amazing
, he thought. He figured it was a bad stereotype, that the wandering hippy hitchhiker type was a high school dropout, but Lily had defied all his expectations. She wasn’t just brave, she was smart in a way he had never been.
“Worldly,” he said out loud, and covered his mouth when he realized he’d said it out loud and Lily looked up at him, her white dreads catching the glint of the fireplace, wreathed in an orange glow.
“What now?”
“Uh, sorry. Just, thinking about you. For some reason that word popped into my head.”
“Thinking about moi? Gosh, don’t make me blush now, Shane,” she teased him.
He smiled stiffly and went back to this meal, but he felt her watching him again, the same way she had done back in the Toyota earlier. Trying to figure him out, probe into his thoughts.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, taking another sip of his wine.
The two of them finished their meals and began to talk more, and Shane was surprised at how easy it was to have a conversation with her. It was like he didn’t have to try at all. The women he had known back in New Jersey, and even in Seattle, had all been like him – there was a sort of front, a game that you had to play, when you met someone knew. It was like a chess-game. You were always trying to outwit your opponent by getting them to give up details of their lives, while remaining on the defensive. It was a sort of cultural precept that had snuck into all of his interactions, even those at work – you never wanted to show your hand to anyone.
He had to admit that he had gotten good at that sort of interaction. But it had left him feeling empty, and for the past ten years there was nothing he could even think of that could have been considered
intimate
. Even the few girlfriends he had tried to make it work with had all been as cold and businesslike as himself to the relationship.
But now, there was this young woman, and he found himself at an immediate disadvantage. It wasn’t that she was better at playing this social game than him – it was the fact she wasn’t
playing
at all. She was just open. Like book he had been generously given to read, and now she was merely asking his opinion on.
Is this what I’ve been missing?
he wondered, watching her talk. Lily didn’t have any pretense. She said what was on her mind and there was nothing more or less to it than that. She just
was
, and he found himself transfixed as their conversation turned from politics to philosophy to stranger topics like gardening and even what the best beers were. According to Lily, it was imperative, absolutely
imperative
that Shane make a trip to Portland, the independent brewery capital of the world.
Eventually the topics started to become more personal as the wine bottle emptied, and he found himself telling her about his job and how recently he had started to question it.
“I can’t really relate,” she said, finally, and there was a note of finality in her tone, but also one of sympathy. “I mean, I’ve never really… lived that kind of life. But I can understand your feelings about it.”
“Maybe when you turn thirty you’ll suddenly realize you want to become an accountant,” he joked, and found himself grinning again.
I haven’t really smiled or laughed like this in ages
, he realized again.
“
That
I doubt! I think for my thirtieth I want to do something special. Something memorable, y’know? What about you? What are
you
going to do for your thirtieth? You’ve only got a week to figure it out.”
“I don’t really know. I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted.
She pursed her lips again and leaned on her elbows on the table and made a fish face at him. “Welllll, I think you should….”
“What?”
She shook her head and giggled. “Nothing. Nevermind.”
“That’s not fair,” Shane said, pouring the last dregs of the wine bottle in her glass as she mouthed the words
thank you
. He rubbed at his chin again. “Seriously, I need some ideas.”
“What do you
want
to do?” she asked.
He leaned back on his hands. It was a valid question, and one he was afraid to answer truthfully, even though he could feel the ambivalence of the wine’s effects on him threatening to say it out loud. He couldn’t accept it, though. It went contrary to everything he had ever known about himself. It would mean sacrificing too much, and he realized with a bit of sadness that he wasn’t as brave as Lily when it came to making decisions about his life.
“I don’t really want to say,” he said.
“Now you’re being unfair,” she said, and stood up and took his plate.
He watched her go and set the dishes in the sink, the sound of running water. He rubbed his face. “I want to just…
go
,” he said, “what was that quote of yours, something Latin?”
“Solvitur ambulando.”
“That’s it,” he said, and finished off his wine. “Enough about me, I want to hear more about your travels. Where did you go after you left San Francisco?”
She scrunched her and sat down on the couch with her feet pulled up and shivered. He sighed and stood up to toss another log onto the fire and sat down beside her. She lifted her feet and then set them back down on his lap. She seemed hesitant to continue and shook her head.
“I don’t really want to talk about San Francisco,” she said.
“Uhm…”
“Let’s just say I was glad to get out of there and I’m not going back. Can we leave it at that?”
He nodded, suddenly taken aback by her seriousness and resistance to the subject. It was a side to her he had only seen a glimpse of since meeting her earlier that day. She carried it like a badge of silence, something that if she uttered too loudly it would shatter, and he gave a single nod and leaned back in the couch. The warmth of the fireplace radiated outward and cast shadows against the mantle-piece.