Page 73 of Stuck with Me

ME

My battery is about to die. If you don’t hear from me again, let the record show that I held my ground as long as possible. But the longer we’re trapped here, the weaker I’m becoming. Please send help!

CAMMIE

You already know how I feel about this. I say, in my best Monica Gellar’s voice, YOU GO GIRL!

ME

Don’t ever say that again.

CAMMIE

You know you love me.

ME

I do. But if you say cliché shit like that again, I’m breaking up with you.

CAMMIE

Ok! Great news! The roads in town are clear and they should have the service road plowed by this evening! Designated Dean is going to drive us up in his rig tonight.

See, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.

ME

Best fucking words I’ve heard all day.

CAMMIE

Are you sure the best words you’ve heard today aren’t,ride my face, baby?

ME

Again I ask, why are you the way you are?

CAMMIE

Hahahaha! Love you!

* * *

Setting aside the letters between our grandparents made sense earlier in the day when we expected to have more time. But now that everyone else is coming tonight instead of tomorrow, I feel this urgency to get through them. And again, we scatter them out on the blanket on the floor in the living room and organize them according to a guessed timeline.

Spending the past few days with Nico, I’ve grown comfortable enough to let my guard down some. But the thing that still sits in the back of my mind causes me to not relinquish completely. If we learn Nico’s granddad had more of an attachment to the cabin than originally thought, he might want to take it from me.

Sharing it still doesn’t feel like an option. However if it comes down to me buying out his half, I can’t afford to. The only way I can make that happen is if I sell the Brew Box. And that’s my livelihood. So it’s not an option. If it comes down to all or nothing, I will end up with nothing.

The late afternoon daylight peers through the cabin windows, but it’s still not bright enough to read the letters we have spread out on the floor. I light a few candles around the living room and Nico tosses a few more pieces of wood into the stove.

After he joins me on the floor again, he reads the next letter aloud.

Dear Giana,

Nico James Moretti was born yesterday. His daddy and mama gave me the honor of naming him. Nico isn’t common here in the South. But of course, I was going to give him an Italian name. He’s perfect in every way. Maybe you’ll meet him someday.

Love always, Leo

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