Page 20 of Cabin Fever With My First Flame

When lunch is over, the kids volunteer to clear the plates—which basically means they put them in the trash while I wipe down the counters of the few crumbs that managed to escape. Micah and Ella bring in the first two batches of cookie dough from the back porch, a subtle hint that they’re ready to get started on their task.

“Finn, do you have a rolling pin?” Bailey asks as she mixes some powdered sugar and flour together in a bowl.

“My mom had one!” Isaac says and takes off running toward the other end of the house where the boxes of Christmas decorations are stored. Jonah follows him, and together, they bring the large container filled with baking supplies. “We found the cookie cutters in here earlier and a bunch of plastic bags!”

I help the boys unpack the items, and Bailey grins at the piping bags and decorating tips. “I thought I was going to have to go ‘old school’ and use Ziploc baggies,” she says. “I would have cut a tiny hole in the bottom of the bag. It wouldn’t have been as pretty, but still a lot of fun.”

“You’re pretty resourceful, Bailey.” I pull out two rolling pins, one ceramic and the other made from wood. Then I frown when I see why the box is so heavy and glance toward Bailey, who is lightly dusting the flour mixture over the countertop.

“What’s that look for, Finn?” she asks, tilting her head and narrowing her gaze.

“Please don’t hate me,” I beg before pulling out a mixer stand. “I had no idea this was in here.”

Instead of getting mad that she had to mix everything by hand, Bailey laughs and flexes her tiny bicep. “You got your workout in this morning and so did I,” she jokes.

“My muscles are bigger than yours,” Jonah says, flexing his bicep as well. “One day, they’re going to be as big as Finn’s!”

Bailey squeezes Jonah’s arm and gasps. “Those are pretty big! You might have even bigger muscles than Finn, especially onceyou help me roll out the gingerbread. Are you ready to put those bad boys to use?”

Bailey gets the younger kids on task while Ella and Micah assist. Not knowing what to do with myself, I go over and stoke the fire and clean up all the scratch paper from the game earlier. Then I head to my room and dig out my old photo album, dusting off the cover.

I sit in the alcove of the bay window and flip through the pages. The first few are of my family when we lived in California before moving to Lake George before my sophomore year in high school. The pictures feature my sister, Jenny, less and less while Bailey becomes more prominent.

I rub my hand over my favorite picture of Bailey and me after one of my lacrosse games. I’m sweaty and gross, but Bailey still has her arms around my waist and is nuzzling my neck. Her eyes are closed, and her smile reaches from ear to ear. Then I see it.

Daniel is in the background of the picture, but instead of being happy that we won our game, his face is sad as his gaze is locked on Bailey. I flip through more pictures, and most of the time, Daniel has a wistful expression if he’s looking at Bailey. If he was looking at me, then his eyes were dark and hollow.

How had I never seen this before? Maybe if I had, I would have questioned Daniel when he lied to me. I pray to God for patience and for the courage to accept that I can’t change what happened. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering how our lives would have turned out if Bailey and I had gotten married.

I slam the photo album shut when I hear someone coming down the hall. A few seconds later, Bailey appears with a plate of cookies in her hand and knocks on the door frame. “You’ve been in here for two hours, Finn. What has you so enraptured that even the lure of freshly-baked goods didn’t tickle your senses?”

“I was going through an old photo album and stumbled across pictures of you, Daniel, and me. He hated me, Bailey, and I could kick myself for not recognizing it back then.”

Bailey sets the plate down on the dresser and sits on the edge of the bed, facing me. “Daniel didn’t hate you, Finn.”

I open up the album and show her several of the photos. “Look at Daniel in each of these and how he looks at you versus how he looks at me. He’s loved you since we were first together, Bailey—not after we graduated, but long before that. Maybe he had his eye on you before I even moved to Lake George. I have to wonder if Daniel was ever my friend or if he just pretended to be so that he could be close to you.”

Bailey scrutinizes the images and then shuts the album with a sigh. “It’s not hate, Finn. It’s jealousy. You had it all. The looks, the talents, the brains, and the girl. From the outside looking in, your life seemed pretty perfect.”

Itwasperfect before I mucked everything up because I believed a lie when, in my heart, I should have known the truth. “If it hadn’t been for Daniel’s lies and deceit, we would have had our ‘happily ever after.’ I’m trying very hard not to be angry at him.”

Bailey stands up and smooths out her reindeer pajama bottoms. “Are you angry at Daniel for lying? Or are you angry at yourself for believing it? Either way, it’s anger misspent since there’s no way to change the past. You can learn from your mistakes and move on, or you can sit here for another two hours and wallow in self-pity. The choice is yours.”

Right before Bailey leaves the room, I ask, “Do you have any regrets, Bailey? Do you regret marrying Daniel after what he did to you and learning what he did to us?”

She shakes her head, loosening a few tendrils from her messy bun. “That’s not really a fair question, Finn. I have three reasons in the other room to be thankful for, regardless of thecircumstances I find myself in or Daniel’s betrayal. They are a blessing and a gift from God. I’m not about to question that gift or the way He provided it. Dwelling on ‘what ifs’ is a waste of time and energy—energy that I don’t have.”

Bailey leaves, and I lean my head against the window to stare out at the falling snow. It doesn’t appear to be coming down as heavy as it had earlier, but the large flakes are still piling up and lulling me into a trance. I close my eyes as the last vestiges of the sun disappear behind the treetops and cast the forest into shadow.

I feel tiny fingers lift my eyelids, pulling me from my impromptu nap. “Are you sleeping?” Isaac asks with a giggle.

“Not anymore,” I say groggily. “What time is it?”

“It’s our bedtime,” Jonah replies. “You missed all the fun and pizza for dinner. Are you too tired to tuck us in?”

“Nope. I’m never too tired for that. Go and get cleaned up first, then I’ll be in to ensure you’re snug as a bug.” I stretch my arms above my head and roll my neck to work out the kinks. Sleeping while sitting up isn’t exactly comfortable, and I envy the rubber necks that children seem to possess.

Isaac shakes his head, and a few droplets of water hit my face. “Bailey already had us take our showers after dinner. I think she’s pretty tired, too. You should give her one of your comfy pillows. That will make her fall in love with you.”

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