Page 1 of Cabin Fever With My First Flame

Chapter one

Bailey

“Mom, If I haveto listen to one more Christmas song on this trip, I’m going to pull out my hair and end up looking like Uncle Baxter,” my oldest daughter, Ella, says dramatically as she reaches for the radio controls to change the channel. I’ll be the first to admit that my brother, Baxter, is a bit thin on top, but he’s a far cry from being bald.

I smack her hand away and give my 14-year-old the stink eye, refusing to listen to K-pop or another Disney actress-turned-pop star. “As pilot of this ship, radio controls belong to me, Miss Thang. When you have your own car, you can play whatever you want. Besides, Christmas music is the ‘bomb diggity,’ and I get to listen to it for only one month out of the year.”

Ella folds her arms across her chest, staring out the window and watching the snow that is starting to fall in earnest now. It’s coming down heavy enough that I’m becoming concerned. “Don’t pretend that you haven’t been listening to it since July, Mom. And what is ‘bomb diggity,’ anyway? Who talks like that?”

We’re driving on a winding backroad that leads into my hometown of Lake George, New York—a small tourist village that boasts picturesque views and amazing skiing this time of year. It also boasts two-lane highways butted up against a mountain with blind curves and a cliff. I grimace as the lines in the road start slowly disappearing under a blanket of white fluff and use my daughter’s question as a distraction from my fraying nerves. The last thing I need is for Ella to see me panic.

“Oh, forgive me. You kids say, ‘It’s slay,’ now. How could I forget?” My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by Ella, who is the spitting image of me when I was a teenager. She has the same long, blond hair and large, blue eyes that stare back at me every day, but the similarities don’t stop there. Ella also has my spit-fire personality and a mouth that gets her in trouble—like right now.

She turns her head slowly in my direction and leans away from me, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Because you’reold.”

“I’m 35! That’s not old!” I retort, falling into her trap. Ella takes great pride in trying to get a reaction from me, and I hate to say it, but she succeeds more often than she fails.

“Well, you drive like you’re old. At this rate, I can get out and walk to Nana’s faster. Want me to drive?” Ella asks hopefully.

I bark out a laugh that Ella doesn’t find amusing in the slightest. “You’re 14 and have two more years before you can drive. No, Sweetheart, you get to be my passenger princess for a little while longer.” I glance over my shoulder at my other two princesses, Ava and Mia, who are sleeping soundly in the jump seats of my food truck.

“Dad would let me drive. He’s done it before,” Ella says with her lower lip turned out. She’s trying to pit me against her father, but that’s one trap I don’t fall for. I may not beinlove with Daniel anymore, but I’ll never say a bad word about him to our kids. It doesn’t matter that he cheated on me, sold our restaurant, and ran away with the hostess. His relationship with our daughters is between him and them, and his actions will speak for themselves. I’ll be there to help pick up the pieces when he inevitably breaks our daughters’ hearts, even if I pray every day that’s not what happens.

I grip the steering wheel almost to the point where my knuckles are as white as the ground outside. “Ella, when you visit your dad for the summer, then you can ask him to let you drive. I’ll even promise to give you some driving lessons when the snow melts. But now is not the time. We’re in the middle of the snowstorm that wasn’t supposed to hit until tomorrow, and I can barely see the road.”

Ella senses the tension in my voice and knows that it’s time to hold back on the snark. She’s quiet for a long time, which basically means she lasts until the end of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” by Andy Williams. Four minutes must feel like forever for a teenage girl with a lot on her mind.

“Mom, do you think that you’ll ever get married again?” Ella asks hesitantly. “Or do you believe that true love only comes around once?”

My poor baby left behind her first and only boyfriend back in Myrtle Beach, along with all of her friends. She’s feeling the lossof them as much as she is the loss of her father. I reach over as far as my seatbelt will let me and hold out my hand. Instead of joining our palms together, she gives me a ‘low five’ and then points toward the road.

Returning my eyes so that they’re focused out the front window, I tell her, “Yes, Ella, I believe that true love comes around more than once. Believe it or not, I’ve loved two men in my life. As for getting married again, I honestly don’t know. If love finds me a third time, I’m open to it. If it doesn’t, I’m okay with that, too.”

“Is Finn the guy you loved before Dad?” Ella asks, throwing me completely off guard. I can’t remember a single time that I’ve ever mentioned Finn since he left me back in high school, and I know for a fact I never brought up his name around the girls.

“Uh. Um. How do you know about Finn? Did your father say something to you?” My parents wouldn’t have said anything because they knew that Finn Hollister was a topic that was always off-limits in our household. As once my high school sweetheart and Daniel’s best friend, Finn didn’t just leave me. He left us both.

She shakes her head, but then nods. “Dad didn’t say anything to me directly. I overheard him talking on the phone with his friend, Bryce. He told Bryce to keep you away from Finn since your paths are bound to cross.”

“What? Why would he…” I’m interrupted by a slight rumble in the truck and a lurching motion that warrants my full attention. I glance down at the gas gauge, which is still showing half a tank. I frown. It’s in the same position as when we passed through Albany a few hours back, and I can’t help but wonder how long it’s been stuck.

“Is everything okay?” Ella asks worriedly.

“Maybe,” I say, tapping the glass on my dashboard. “The gas gauge is stuck, and I don’t know how long it’s been like that.We’re seven miles from Pop’s and Nana’s place, so if I can make it to the top of the hill, we can coast down the other side, right into town,” I say, spewing my thoughts out loud.

“We should have filled up in Albany,” my daughter says unhelpfully.

She’s not wrong. Regardless, I didn’t have enough cash left to purchase a full tank and the credit cards are maxed. Prior to the divorce, Daniel sold our restaurant and paid off the mortgage on the house. He planned to offer me the food truck in exchange for him getting to keep our home. Thankfully, the truck was in my parents’ name, and the judge mandated that either the house be sold or that Daniel buy me out. With the sale still pending, I’ll have to wait for my half.

After the final turn, I can see the crest of the hill up ahead. I channel my “Little Engine Who Could” and mutter out a chant, “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.” When the truck sputters and comes to a stop less than 50 feet from the top, I bang my forehead against the steering wheel. “I guess I can’t.”

Refusing to go into full-blown panic mode, I pull out my phone and check to see if I have any bars in the right-hand corner. Reception in the Adirondack mountains is spotty at best, but with heavy snowfall and ominous clouds overhead, it would be a miracle if I could even get a text through. The “SOS” is prominently displayed where the stair-stepping bars should be, so I hold the side and volume buttons to access emergency services. The call doesn’t go through, and I’m forced to use the satellite feature to get routed.

When the dispatcher answers, I explain the situation and give her my location. I also inform her that I have three children with me, hoping to be bumped up on the priority list. She reassures me that help is on the way, but it could take up to a few hours. “Sit tight, and don’t venture out. There’s a blizzard passingthrough the area, and it is expected to drop seven to ten feet of snow,” the friendly dispatcher tells me.

When I hang up the phone, Ella gazes at me with frightened eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Sweetheart,” I say, unbuckling and pulling her into a motherly embrace. “Snow in this area is not uncommon, and people need to be rescued all the time. We have sleeping bags in the back to stay warm, plenty of food and water, and the new cold-weather gear Nana sent you girls for this trip. Let’s be grateful to God we have shelter in this storm.”

Ella nods. Mia and Ava both wake up now that the vehicle has come to a stop and the temperatures inside are slowly dropping. It’s no surprise that both girls have to pee, so I dig around in the back of the truck through our belongings to find a bucket. While Mia is on the makeshift potty, Ella asks more about Finn.

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