Page 8 of Say It Isn't Snow
She pauses. “Who are you and what have you done with my workaholic best friend? You never admit it.”
A chuckle huffs out of me. “So you’re giving up?”
“Hardly. That makes it way easier to convince you to take some time off. Let’s do a girls’ weekend. We’ll go to the cabin. It’ll be so much fun.” She grows more animated by the second.
The Adler’s cabin holds so many good memories of trips I’ve taken with Layla and her family. Nostalgia wraps around me like a warm hug. The fresh Vermont mountain air is so peaceful and relaxing. Winter is my favorite time to be there when everything is gorgeous and magical, cloaked in snow. I’ve loved spending time there when her family has invited mine to join them to spend New Year’s.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny I need a break. Glancing through the window in the door at my brother packing efficiently, I wonder why I’m always so quick to do everything on my own.
“Come on, Hols. You need it,” Layla says gently. “Hell, you deserve it more than anyone. You’re always taking care of everything. Let me do something nice for you for once. The bakery will be fine if you take a long weekend.”
“I am ahead on my custom orders. But I don’t know…”
One of the stray cats Marjorie feeds meows as she trots to me. She rubs against my leg and I crouch to pet her. She trills happily, purring as she rubs her cheek against my palm for more attention.
The to-do list constantly living in my head runs through the things that need my attention. I close my eyes with a sigh, but it’s still there. It always is.
“I’m worried about you burning out. You’ve been saying you’re so tired lately.”
“I hear you,” I murmur, entranced by how therapeutic petting the cat’s soft fur is.
“So say yes,” Layla urges. “It’s been forever since we hung out, and we promised ourselves we wouldn’t turn into the type of friends who never have time to see each other.”
I only consider it for a beat longer before giving in. I do want to see her after spending the last year so focused on running the bakery I adore more than anything.
Leaving someone else in charge of the business I’m so proud of is nerve-racking, but I’ve earned a short break. If it's only for the weekend, Leo can handle things.
“You’re right. Let’s do it. Girls’ weekend.”
“You’re in?” she gushes.
“I’m in.”
Layla’s squeal of excitement makes me laugh. It’s infectious, making me bounce with my own eagerness.
A weight I wasn’t aware of lifts from my shoulders at the idea of a charming cabin getaway.
CHAPTER 4
HOLLY
The driveto the cabin after lunchtime is breathtaking. I can’t help drawing it out to enjoy the many scenic spots I pass on the way.
Some parts of the narrow switchbacks and steep icy roads are sketchy, though. Despite the white-knuckling moments navigating the last section of the trip taking me an extra twenty minutes, I make it there in time to admire the stunning afternoon sunlight hitting the recent snowfall blanketing everything.
This is so worth it. I’m feeling much less apprehensive about leaving Leo with a detailed guide to cover the weekend shifts.
With an excited squeal, I hop out of the car and take about a million photos of the glittering winter beauty. My UGGs crunch through the fluffy snow as I explore the area around the driveway.
The view is incredible. I marvel at the sloping mountain range behind the cabin and the valley below from the rear of the wraparound porch. It’s as if I’m in a giant snow globe, encased in magical serenity. Layla hasn’t arrived yet, but she let me know the code for the key inside the lockbox and instructions for setting everything up.
It’s even better inside the cabin. I pause on the threshold and take it in with a content sigh. The charming rustic accents are so comforting. My fingertips brush over the old leather armchairs by the cast iron wood burning fireplace. I can’t wait to snuggle up by the fire with the book I brought.
This is going to be the best weekend. I’m so glad I finally listened to Layla. I really needed this.
I’m as enamored by the cozy atmosphere as I was when the Adlers invited me here in the past. Reminders of those summer and winter trips to the cabin with their family come rushing back.
I bite my lip around a smile when I think of the number of friendship bracelets I made with Layla with our feet dangling through the railing of the loft, swinging from a tire on a rope and swimming in the nearby lake with her brothers, chasing each other all through the surrounding woods. A laugh escapes me when I recall how much I hated getting poison ivy during one trip when we were young.
