Page 24 of Losing Sleep
“I’m just doing my best to do right by him.” This last sentence was spoken so quietly, I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear.
We sat in silence, small towns slipping by out the window as we got closer to the cabin. I attempted to think of a question or comment, something to change topics and get the conversation back to safer ground.
Grey gave a stiff shake of his head and reached over to fiddle with the music volume for a moment before speaking.
“Now that we’re both thoroughly depressed,” Grey said, his tone full of forced cheer. “I vote for a change of topic.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, more than happy to let him take control of the conversation. Just about anything he suggested would be lighter than loss and family drama.
“What is your favorite kind of ice cream? There are no wrong answers, unless you say vanilla.” Grey pursed his lips, waiting for my response.
I hesitated for only a moment before deciding to lean into humor, trying to bring back our banter.
“What about bubble gum? I feel like bubble gum is definitely a wrong answer.”
By the time we reached the cabin, my sides ached from laughter. Grey and I had bantered and discussed favorites, careful to avoid the deeper, more sensitive topics from earlier in our drive. Our delay in Logan had come with one huge advantage: we arrived at the cabin in the afternoon. Which meant, while we’d still had to watch for wildlife, it was easier to see.
We parked next to Tory’s SUV in a clearing in front of the cabin. Trees surrounded us, and a firepit sat a few paces to our left flanked by camp chairs. A hammock hung from two trees beyond the firepit, and I could already picture myself curling up in it with a book.
The cabin was a log structure, with a large porch occupied by two wooden rocking chairs. From my previous visit, I knew inside would be welcoming, with worn sofas, the faint smell of moth balls, and décor reminiscent of my mom’s kitchen growing up: large vinyl sayings on the walls, pops of red for color, and animal figurines for decoration. Why Tory’s parents thought chickens and roosters made sense as cabin décor, I’d never know, but I loved it all the same.
“This place is nice.” Grey whistled as he climbed out of the car, slipping a flannel shirt around his shoulders.
I shivered as I slipped on my shoes and stepped out of the car, a burst of cool air greeting me and bringing goose bumps to my legs and arms. While summer was in full swing in Utah, I’d forgotten that this far into Idaho, the temperatures tended to be cooler. I immediately wished my jacket wasn’t packed away in my duffle in the trunk. Outside was quiet, the distant mooing of cows the only sound to break the silence, and I took a moment to breathe in as the faint scent of pine trees reminded me why I loved the mountains.
The sound of the cabin door closing brought my attention to the porch, where Tory and her boyfriend, Trent, stood. Tory waved, fairly bouncing on her toes with excitement. Her black curls were pulled up into a ponytail, and she wore a well-loved Yellowstone National Park sweatshirt. Trent stood, stoic as always, his lips pressed in a straight line. His buzz cut and muscled build reminded me of a military man, an impression furthered by his no-nonsense personality. How such a quiet, straightlaced guy had ended up with my overexuberant friend,I’d never know. But they seemed happy, or at least Tory did. I had seen very little emotion from Trent.
“I’m so glad you guys made it,” Tory said, joy lacing her tone.
I grinned and rushed up the stairs, happy to see my friend even if she’d had to force me on this trip. While nothing had gone to plan so far, I could already tell I was making memories I’d laugh about for years to come.
I dropped my backpack on the porch and gave Tory a hug.
“Happy birthday, a day late!” I held on an extra moment to whisper in her ear. “Next time you want to play matchmaker and strand me alone with a guy for several hours, just don’t.”
She gave me a wicked smile and shrugged, whispering back, “How was I supposed to know y’all would get to spend extra…quality time together? Besides, the alternative was you staying home, which is the last thing you need right now.”
“Or I could have waited and come up with Brad, Alex, and Kylie,” I said, referencing the rest of the group who would join the trip tomorrow after Kylie got off work. I stepped back and slung my backpack over my shoulder once more.
“Which would have increased the chances of you backing out. This way I get extra time with you in my favorite place in the world, even if car trouble cut into that a bit,” Tory said, not even looking the slightest bit contrite about how everything turned out.
Grey bounded up the steps behind me, both of our bags slung over his shoulder. “Where should I stash these?”
“I’ll show you and then give you the grand tour. Grey, you’ll be sleeping downstairs with Trent in The Cave.” She gestured to her boyfriend who stood off to the side, looking like a statue and not bothering to greet us.
After we took off our shoes, Tory showed us around the cabin. It hadn’t changed much since I’d visited a couple of years ago. The same well-worn, comfy couches graced the living room,and the same log-framed beds waited in each of the bedrooms. There were even the same roosters and chickens watching us from on top of the kitchen cabinets, though they did look a bit more faded with age. The cabin was comfortable, with its open concept kitchen and living room and enough space to sleep 15 people—or more, depending on people’s willingness to share beds or sleep on the couch. Tory’s family frequently used it as a reunion space during the summer.
When we reached the room affectionately termed The Cave, Grey deposited his bag and settled on one of the beds. “I could get used to this.”
“This is my favorite room,” Tory said, gesturing to the dark space filled with several bunkbeds. “When we were kids, my siblings and I would drape blankets from all the beds and make forts.”
I glanced at Grey, catching his smirk as we both remembered our discussion about pillow walls and couch forts.
Oblivious, Tory continued. “It’s the coldest, darkest room in the cabin. Perfect for sleeping with a mountain of blankets.”
I shivered as the cold seeped from the cement floor, regretting having removed my socks along with my shoes when I’d come inside. “If we stay down here much longer, I’m going to need slippers and a jacket.”
Tory shrugged. “Just remember those things when we come down later for a movie.”
