Page 51 of Liberating Bells
My honesty surprises me, and I blink a few times. Josie gives me a calculating look, processing the truth I’ve just spilled.
“First of all, you’re wrong. You are enough. And second of all, I know you want her back. I know what she means to you, and frankly, I know whatyoumean toher. That’s why we’re doing this, right?” She nods to the open road in front of us.
I don’t respond.
“So it’s established that Izabel is what you want. But I think you need to start worrying about your own toxic situation before you get involved with hers.”
I stay quiet.
Her words hit me somewhere deep, though. It’s time I face the music. At first, it was an extra drink, then two. Now, just like Josie said, it’s become a vice that I can’t seem to shake. Any time I find myself stuck in a situation that has me feeling inadequate, drinking is what makes it better. It numbs the ache.
“I don’t think you need to quit cold turkey, but if you want, I can help you find an AA meeting to help you get on the right path again.”
I grind my teeth together, and my jaw muscles scream in response. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Josie opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “But, I will consider what you’ve said.”
Thankfully, she leaves it at that and then changes the topic. “Wow, this place is way the fuck out here.”
I lean my head against the window, watching the trees go by. “No, kidding.”
We drive in silence for the rest of the way to the site. I’m still busy processing her blunt intervention, or whatever the hell that was. I know she’s right. I’ve let myself slip on this one too many times. And if Josie’s noticing, I’m sure others are starting to as well.
I don’t want to be this guy. I need to be a better man, for Izabel, for myself. It starts today. As soon as I get home, it’s all going down the drain. Time to start fresh. It won’t be clear cut and simple like I’m hoping, I’m sure. But the least I can do is make an attempt to be better.
Josie continues to sing along with her tunes while I’m lost in my thoughts. I only snap out of it when we pull into the drive of the construction site. I’m out of the vehicle before it’s fully in park, itching to see the progress.
The Stevenson Project.
Just like Josie said, we arewaythe fuck out here. I always forget just how far it is. The old walls have been completely replaced, a new framework of 2x4s standing proudly. The trees are all the same, and they tower overhead, their leaves rustling in the wind. I stick my hands in my pockets, feeling a smile playing on my lips, and walk up the old gravel pathway.
The things these trees have seen.
“Not exactly how you remembered, huh?” Josie asks from beside me. I look down at her and grin.
“No, not quite.” I look back up at the skeletal frame of the soon-to-be livable house and recall what used to stand in its place. Quite the improvement, even now. “But it’s going to be so much better when it’s done.”
The site coordinator comes to greet us, extending a handshake to both me and Josie. Josie takes the lead since she’s the architect on the project. She knows all the ins and outs of the minor details. I’m really just her client in this case. He walks us around, showing us, mostly me, where everything will be located by the end of the construction.
I point out a few things I’d like differently, and Josie jots them down for me in her notebook, so they don’t get lost in the madness.
“This will turn out to be an excellent investment for you, Ryan,” the coordinator tells me proudly. “Much better than that piece of junk that was here before. I don’t even know how that thing was still standing.”
I shrug. “The owner died a few years ago. His family didn’t even know it was still in the family until I reached out to them. It got a little neglected over the years.”
The guy nods. “Yeah, well, it won’t be that way anymore. We kept the integrity of the space like you wanted. It’s basically the same, just more fundamentally sound, and bigger. You got more than a one-room cabin now.”
“That sounds perfect,” I tell him with a smile, and I mean it. He shows me a couple more things and then heads off to check on his crew. The construction should all be finished in about two months. Then it’s all mine.
As I look around the area, I feel more at home than I have in a while. The fresh air is doing wonders for the hangover. The McGriddle soaked up most of it, but this fresh air and the trees are taking care of any lingering effects. I could stay out here forever.
I’m not sure what possessed me to actually buy this place. My real estate agent was questioning my sanity when I told him I wanted to purchase this property. I had been thinking about it for years, nonstop. The place has been haunting my dreamssince we left. Its architecture took up at least one page in all of my sketch pads. What it was, what it could be.
Memories flood my mind as I observe the area: injuries, truths, laughter, jokes, first kisses, fights...love.
This was where loathing turned into a friendship and then into more, much more. Where fears were addressed, and trust was built at a level that could never be reproduced for either of us. Where my relationship with Bells began. Mac Stevenson’s cabin.
Now, my cabin.
Josie shakes her head as she comes to stand by me. Her hands are on her hips as she follows my lead, looking around. “I can’t believe you bought this place. It sure looks like a whole lot of nothing.”
