Page 90 of Mr. Edwards
“What?”
“This has been here the entire time… less than a mile from where we camped, and you made me dig a hole to poop in, like some kind of wild animal?”
“I’m pretty sure wild animals don’t dig holes to poop in, Carlee.”
She reaches across the center console, playfully slapping my chest and making me laugh. I could’ve easily driven her up here to use the bathroom, but where would be the fun in that? I wanted her to get the whole camping experience, sue me.
A touch of nostalgia runs through me as my eyes take in the old place. There were so many good times spent here with my dad when I was a kid. It’s where he taught me how to be a man, even though I was just a boy. Did he know our time together would be limited?Because I remember him cramming so much into our stays.
This is where I learned how to shoot and clean a gun, use a knife properly, make the perfect campfire, and thread and hook a fishing line. My dad even taught me how to play poker and chop firewood, amongst many other things. A lump forms in the back of my throat as memory after precious memory floods my mind. Things I haven’t thought about in years.
The first time my uncle brought me up here after my father passed, was hard. Part of me was glad to be back, but it made me miss my dad even more. This cabin was where a father and son forged an unbreakable bond. That first night I came here without him, I cried myself to sleep. Granted, I was only ten, but nothing was ever the same with him gone.
I shift the car into park near the front porch. It hasn’t changed much, maybe it’s a little more run-down than I recall. It’s been a long time since I’ve been up here. Fifteen years, or more. I called my uncle while we were still at the campsite, and he was fine with us coming here. He was on the road working, but said he might even drop by for a visit since he’s heading back home. I hope he does.
He resides in Los Angeles with his wife and two young daughters, but he’s away a lot since he travels frequently for work. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and I’m excited at the prospect of introducing him to my girl. She’s going to be family one day… hopefully sooner rather than later.
“This place is cute, very log cabiny,” Carlee says, making me laugh. “Has your uncle owned this place long?”
“It’s been in the family for over fifty years. It was mygrandfather’s, and when he passed it went to his two sons, but after my dad...” I dip my head and lift my shoulder as a fresh wave of emotions runs through me. I can’t even bring myself to say the words. “It’s my uncle’s now.”
Carlee reaches over, grasping my hand. She doesn’t say anything, but her touch is comfort enough. One day this place will be mine, but unfortunately, I won’t get to teach my sons all the things my father taught me.
“Come, let’s get you inside. You need a hot shower and some dry clothes.”
I’ll take care of all the wet stuff loaded in the back of the Range Rover once Carlee is dry and warm.
It’s day two of our stay in the cabin. Yesterday was a washout, it pretty much rained all day. We spent our time cooped up inside, either in bed or lounging in front of the lit fireplace in the main room, we even played a few games of strip poker. My girl has the perfect poker face and hustled me out of my clothes on more than one occasion.
Today’s our last full day here, tomorrow we’re heading back home. I’m not looking forward to returning to everyday life, because it means I won’t get to spend every waking moment with my girl.
But today, the sun has returned, and I have big plans for us. My stomach knots at the thought. I’m finally doing it, I’ve been procrastinating ever since we got here, but my time’s running out. I need to man up and lock this shit down.
We’ve just finished breakfast and Carlee’s upstairs inthe loft getting ready. My dad put a bit of money into this place when he and his brother inherited it. Putting a small extension off the back that included a fully functioning bathroom and renovated kitchen.
I glance over my shoulder when I hear Carlee shuffling down the ladder that leads from the loft. Crossing the room in long, purposeful strides, she lets out a tiny squeal as I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her down the last few rungs. Her golden locks are pulled back into a tight ponytail, so I bury my face in the crook of her neck, placing my lips against her skin.
“Are you up for taking a walk?”
“Of course.”
Placing her down on her feet, I reach for her hand, leading her out through the rear of the cabin.
Carlee talks endlessly as we walk through the forest, down toward the lake. I keep pulling my phone out of my pocket, checking for a signal.
“Are you expecting a call?”
“No, just checking for reception. I want to call my mom.”
“Oh” is all she says as she continues with whatever she was saying prior. I usually hang on to every word she speaks, but not today. This morning my mind is preoccupied by something else.
When the bars on my phone go from one to three, I stop walking. That’s probably the best reception I’m going to get around here.
“Just let me make a quick call,” I say, searching for my mom’s number in my contact list. It’s looking a little bare these days. I deleted all the other women’s numbers months ago. Carlee is the only booty call I intend on having going forward.
I click FaceTime, wrapping my arm around Carlee’s shoulder, bringing her closer so she can see the screen too.
I smile as soon as my mom’s face appears. “Hey, Mom.”
