Page 76 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“This is quaint,” Riona noted, looking at all the kitsch displayed on the walls. It looked like people had raided local houses throughout the years, snatching doilies, kettles, road signs, and figurines that didn’t match but created a unique aesthetic when thrown together.

“It’s been here as long as I can remember,” I told her, checking my phone and finding no new messages. “We used to come here on vacation when I was a boy. They used to have giant homemade cookies up by the front for tourists to buy.”

The server returned with our drinks, and Riona asked her to bring a side of ranch with her meals. When we were alone again, I watched her face, noting how her lips sagged at the corners just before she covered a yawn with her hand.

“Sorry.” She blinked rapidly and yawned again. “I wasn’t planning for a six-hour road trip today. I’m ready to head to bed when we get to the cabin.”

“I’m sorry my brother dragged you out of your place.” I couldn’t have stopped Dante had I tried, but I felt bad that she’d been temporarily displaced. As long as Riona was next to me when we went to bed, I’d climb under the covers whenever she wanted.

Riona waved my apology off. “It’s fine. I know he’s only doing what he thinks is best.”

Our conversation lulled when the food arrived, and we focused on fueling our bodies. The chocolate shake came with a cherry on top, and I made a show of eating it, then tying the stem with my tongue. Riona rolled her eyes and blushed.

By the time we’d finished our meal and grabbed several giant cookies to go, the sun was setting behind the hills. Five minutes into the drive, Riona fell asleep, missing the trees surrounding us as we delved deeper into the national forest and away from civilization.

It only took another half hour to make it up the winding road to my family’s cabin, and the porch light was already on. Dante‌ likely had one of the trusted locals come to stock the place. People didn’t ask many questions when you threw money at them in an area where many relied on the tourist months for their year’s income.

“Riona,” I whispered when I opened her door. She hadn’t even budged when I parked and left for a few minutes to turn the generator on. “We’re here, baby.”

“Hm?” She nuzzled her head against the seat and smiled in her sleep. I brushed a stray curl from her face and unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to carry her across the threshold, so I didn’t have to disturb whatever pleasant thoughts were running through her unconscious mind. Her eyes opened and met mine when I gathered her into my arms. “Romeo?”

“Yeah.” I smiled at her, savoring the warmth of her body against mine. “We made it to the cabin.”

That seemed to snap her out of her sleepy state. She wriggled in my hold until I set her feet on the ground, then looked at the cabin. “I think I was imagining something more… rustic.”

“Can you see my father staying somewhere without his little luxuries?” I asked wryly.

“I suppose not.” She stared, jaw dropped as she took in the sprawling two-story log house set back against the hillside, the natural lumber framed by a green roof and shutters. The forest surrounded us, with just enough room for a yard and a gravel driveway.

“It looks bigger than it is,” I offered, popping the trunk and gathering our things. “There are only two bedrooms.”

“Why?” Riona asked, following me to the front door, where I keyed the lock code.

“All the kids slept together on cots on the lower level,” I said, opening the door and motioning her inside. I flipped on the entry light, a chandelier in the middle of the vaulted ceiling since the second level was open to the rest of the space. I pointed, giving her a brief, lazy tour. “That’s the dining area, kitchen, living room, and another bathroom and game room at the back.”

“The kitchen is huge,” she observed, taking several steps forward in the open space. I followed, setting the box of alcohol on the kitchen counter while she ran her fingertips along the edge of the stove and the marble countertops. The outside of the cabin might look more rustic, but the inside had modern luxuries.

“Italian family,” I said with a shrug. It wasn’t a secret that there was always plenty of food when my family gathered. I froze, staring at the embroidered tea towel my mother used to snap us with to get us out of her kitchen, realizing I’d never see her there again. It was another barbed bit of grief in my heart, impossible to work out without feeling like a piece of me would rip out alongside her memory.

Riona seemed to sense the change in my mood, moving through the living room and peeking through the French doors that separated the game area from the rest of the space. “The bedrooms?”

“Upstairs.” I tipped my chin up and headed toward the central staircase, leading her to the main bedroom on the right. It was decorated in rich greens and browns, with paintings of the surrounding Shawnee National Forest. The large bed stood as the room's focal point, with the master bath off to one side and a small fireplace on the other side of the room, though there was electricity from the generator out back.

“What are you doing?” Riona asked, pointing to the bed.

I looked at her, confused. “Putting our things down?”

“We’re not sharing a bed,” she protested, grabbing her duffel and slinging it over her shoulder. She was out the door before I could say anything, stalking down the hall past the bathroom and to the other bedroom.

“Riona,” I called after her, hurrying to catch up. “Why aren’t we sharing a bed?”

“Because I said so,” she answered glibly, tossing her bag on the bench at the foot of her bed and unzipping it. She barely took in the shades of blue in the room, or the artwork that depicted the stream that ran by the house.

“Come on,” I practically pleaded.

Riona held up a hand to stop me and shook her head, red curls flying around her face. I backed up as she walked toward me, unsure of her intention. Was she mad enough to stab me? Did she even carry a knife? That would be hot.

“I’m tired, Romeo. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” She shut the door in my face, making me realize she’d backed me right out of her room. The sound of the lock turning made me grin. It wasn’t like that paltry thing could keep me out if I really wanted to get inside.

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