Page 6 of Second Chances
Chapter 4
"Whoa Nelly," Meganchided herself as she eased off on the accelerator of one of Charlotte's huge 4x4 SUV’s. The massive vehicle had at least ten times the horsepower of her little sedan and had jerked her head backward with its get up and go.
Megan checked the mirrors and changed lanes, at 6 a.m. the highway was already starting to fill up with rush hour traffic. Charlotte's idea had seemed crazy at first, but now Megan felt like it was genius, like she was escaping. Now, as the pink glow of dawn crested over the horizon, it felt like the right move.
Megan had heard of Chance Rapids but didn’t know that Charlotte had a little ski cabin there that she never used.
As the rising sun glinted off the high rises in the rear view mirror, Megan eased into the heated seats, put on her aviator sunglasses and punched Charlotte's address into the GPS: 17 Sugar Peaks Way. According to the calm English accent, she had about seven hours to fully regret her decision to move to Chance Rapids.
Megan's knuckles were white by the time she passed the small wooden sign for Chance Rapids, population 7,000. When she left the city, the roads were dry and bare, but by the time she had climbed up into the mountains, the roads were covered in a fresh dusting of snow and she had jabbed at the button to switch the SUV into four-wheel drive.
She crested a hill and got her first glance of Chance Rapids. The colorful wooden houses made her think of the photos she had seen of Iceland. The river that had gurgled along the road fell off into a waterfall and wound its way through the middle of the town.
She had never seen a place so pretty and quaint-looking. The main street had a barber shop with an old-fashioned striped pole, there were little shops with frosted windows, and everyone she saw on the sidewalks seemed to be walking with casual ease, the polar opposite of the hustle and bustle she had left behind.
She continued to follow the directions as they took her down the main street, past rows of clapboard mining houses, and then over the river through a red covered bridge. Once she crossed the river the street names got more cutesy: Powder Puff Trail, Ski Bunny Way, Sugarbush Lane; and the houses went from 1960s mining homes to modern vacation homes interspersed with the occasional A-frame cabin. When she started to see signs for Sugar Peaks, the ski resort, the homes got damn near palatial. She wound her way up past the chairlift and ski lodge and into a neighborhood of houses that were bigger than any of the hotels in town.
The last street, Sugar Peaks Way, only had one home on it, and it was the biggest and most elaborate of them all, number 17.
"Geez, Charlotte, this isn't a cabin," Megan said as she signaled onto the heated driveway. The front of the modern home, or rather the mansion, had huge round pillars that soared up past the glass front of the building, holding up the angled roof. She parked the car and opened the heavy front door. While the house looked cold and empty from the outside, the inside was warm and inviting. She kicked off her boots and walked inside looking around in awe. The double-sided fireplace was pumping out heat and Megan noticed that her sock feet were getting warm, heated floors, of course, she thought to herself.
Besides a fresh bouquet of flowers on the kitchen island, stood a bottle of wine and a card. Megan picked it up and smiled as she read it, ‘Welcome home, Megan please treat my home like your own, and by that, I mean throw lots of parties with hot mountain men, Love Char. xoxo’.
It had been a long and stressful drive, so Megan grabbed a corkscrew, opened the bottle and poured herself a very healthy glass of wine. She explored the massive home, selecting the third largest bedroom for herself, leaving the master open in case Charlotte showed up, and the other for Charlotte's younger sister, Lauren.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Charlotte's number.
"You made it!" Charlotte's voice rang out.
"I did, it took me 9 hours though."
"Nine? Wow were the roads bad or were you just driving like a grandma?"
"A little bit of both," Megan said. "Thanks for the wine. It's delicious," she said and took a sip.
"I knew that you'd like it. Just so you know, when the cabin isn't being used, I only have staff there once a week for cleaning, but the snow plow driver will come every time it snows."
"Oh, you mean I won't have staff at my fingertips 24-7?" she laughed and groaned, "and you didn't mention that this place is a fricking palace!"
"I picked it up before the real estate really took off there,"
"Well, it's beautiful, thank you for letting me stay here. It's just temporary, you know."
"I know Meg. But you can stay there as long as you need to."
"Char, you have done so much for me, I really don't know what to say."
"Meg, you have always been there for me. Please just enjoy the cabin and maybe take some ski lessons when the mountain opens for the season."
"Ski lessons? Are you crazy?"
"When in Rome, Meg, when in Rome..."
"I'll think about it," Megan lied. There was no way that she was going to take up skiing or any mountain sport. She was a warm weather girl and the only sport she planned on doing was reading by the fire.
"I can control the heat and cameras from my phone, and the number for the maintenance guy is in the drawer beside the fridge."
"Got it," Megan said. "Now, where should I go to get a cup of coffee in the morning?"
