Page 7 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“He’s ordered enough to take home and feed us all for a month.” Robbie jokes. “Let me grab a few more things before you tally everything.” He swishes off to the back of the store.

“These ladies know what they're doing.” Dennis proudly smiles.

“Thank you!” The brunette glows. “That’s a huge compliment coming from you.” She rolls a sandwich up in white deli paper, recording its ingredients in grease-penned abbreviations.

Perry is out the door ahead of everyone. His twisted white hair lifts in the breeze that tugs on his white linen pants. He chooses a table in a pairing at the center of the lawn around the side of the building. Phoenix plops onto the bench next to his boss, setting the case of ciders on the ground next to his feet. The others pile on the bench opposite and they wait for Dennis and Robbie to join.

“So Brendon. What’s your story?” Phoenix asks, interrupting the calm country atmosphere and a concert of birds beyond the treeline.

Brendon swigs the cherry red soda in his hand. Bubbles tickle his nostrils and he pinches them to quell a sneeze.

“Robbie told us you came from Texas, but he didn’t know much else.” The inquisitor props pink sunglasses atop his head and leans elbows on the table, puffing out his chiseled chest.

“No exciting story to tell here.” He chuckles, picking at the label on the plastic bottle. “I was just ready for a change of scenery.” Another buzz comes through the phone in his pocket and he shifts uncomfortably. Christian’s timing is eerie as usual.

Phoenix cocks a brow and his eyes narrow slightly studying the squirming mystery across the table.

“Here comes lunch.” Matthew nods at the screen door jingling open and their hosts appear with arms full of bags, pizza boxes, and beverage cases.

The two store owners follow behind with more, helping to load the back of the truck.

Robbie breaks free as Dennis chats with the ladies.

He trots toward the hungry crew with a single paper bag cradled in one arm and a sweating bottle of spring water swinging in the other. He passes each guest a wrapped white log of Maine Italian and settles on the edge of the neighboring table with his own. “Dig in boys.”

“Oh my god.” Matthew's eyes light up with his first bite. “This is delicious,” he says with full cheeks.

“Mhmm.” Brendon nods in agreement.

“Told you.” Dennis joins, kissing Robbie on the forehead and gathering his sandwich from the bag. “We’ve got pizzas prepped for dinner too!” he boasts, straddling the bench next to Robbie’s knee. “Billie and Meagan may join us for fireworks on Friday night.”

***

After the pit stop, the remainder of the drive is quieter as the full-bellied crew all bury their noses in phones. Robbie warned cell service will be spotty once they get up into the mountains, inspiring everyone to catch up with their digital lives ahead of the disconnect.

Brendon has continued ignoring the messages from his ex’s unending harassment. He’s glad they won't be easily reached at the cabin. A break from Christian is even more welcome than this remote getaway.

Robbie steers off the highway, unsettling a layer of dust covering the dirt road that climbs and winds ahead into the dense mountain forest.

Brendon’s phone hums in his palm—again. He's had enough. His fingers type with fury. “It's over Christian. I’m not ever coming back. Move on.” The note whooshes away just before the service bars on his device turn into a series of dots, indicating service is officially dead for the week. His whole body melts a long exhale as he stashes the phone away for the much-needed break.

The Yukon rounds a sharp bend and the trees part to a broad blue sky. The dusty dirt road is suddenly crunching gravel, spread up to the porch. The rustic cabin, Brendon was expecting, is a mid-century palace of timber and glass settled on the edge of a high cliff that slopes down into an expansive valley of northern Maine with miles in view and a small lake nestled into the trees. The sky meets a distant range of foothills that are likely across the Canadian border.

Mulched garden beds with flowering shrubs wrap the perimeter of the house. Jamie and Nathan’s gaudy vintage motorhome is tucked away under the shade of the treeline at the left side of the property. A little gray cat tied to a leash darts under the rig to hide from the roar of the approaching vehicle. Robbie honks the horn to announce their arrival.

“Here we are, gentlemen.” Dennis turns back in his seat, beaming with pride as the truck halts near the entrance.

The doors all open in unison and the crew pile out. Robbie Taps the key fob to lift the rear gate and they huddle around as Dennis passes each their luggage and a bag from the country store.

“It's about time!” Jamie hops out of the motorhome and trots around to welcome the party. His hair is disheveled and his cheeks glow pink. Nathan follows behind in a similar state, with his t-shirt inside out.

Matthew nudges Brendon’s arm, grinning with a wink. “I think we’ve interrupted something,” he leans in and whispers.

Brendon chuckles, accepting his suitcase from Dennis’ hands and hugging a paper bag stuffed with snacks and sweet treats.

Jamie helps Papa Bear carry the largest cooler and his luggage. Nathan follows behind with the smaller cooler topped by a stack of pizza boxes.

The group all shuffle their way into the cabin, through tall glass French doors. Its interior is more modern than the exterior. A cathedral ceiling towers over the great room that smells of cedar and citrus. The stone and steel kitchen welcomes them in and faces a generous seating area flanked by a massive rock fireplace at the opposite end of the glass wall framing the magnificent view outside. A pool table and bar sit to the left with stained glass chandeliers floating overhead.

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