Page 4 of Two Canes, One Cup
It was a handy service that the place offered. Complete turn-key use, all I had to do was send my grocery list.
Well, my assistant did. I haven’t shopped for myself in way too long.
Massive buildings and traffic thin as we leave the city.
I didn’t realize how much I’d miss the open landscape. Dean and I came from a small town in rural Indiana. Corn fields and oak groves made up most of the surrounding areas.
How long has it been since I’ve been back home? I think Mom is getting tired of asking when I’ll visit next.
No. I’m just getting tired of listening to her wondering when I’ll have kids.
“Did you want children?” I blurt, mid-musing.
“I’m flattered, Reece. But you’re not my type.” The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts in a sarcastic smile.
“Shit,” I grumble, slumping into the worn seat. “You’re my longest relationship. I’d have more faith in you sticking around than anyone else.”
This time it’s his turn to snort. “Sure, buddy. We’ll get a flat together and a mess of babies while we both try and learn how to change diapers.” He raises a brow over his amber eyes. “Not saying you wouldn’t be a good dad.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly while taking an off ramp from the interstate. “Debra got pregnant once.”
That makes me sit up straight. “You never told me!”
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. “It didn’t last long enough to share the news. But I was so fuckingexcited.I think she blamed herself.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.” I can’t imagine the high and low that experience brought.
“It’s fine. That was years ago.” He gives an idle wave, but I know by the set of his jaw that it hits harder than he’s letting on.
For once, I don’t know what to say.
Only the noise from his knobby tires breaks the silence.
My chest aches for him. I remember when we were younger, all he talked about was starting a family. He drove himself towards success just in hopes of accomplishing that.
I think a lot of that has been forgotten riding the high of awards and big contracts.
It will be nice to get back to our roots.
Snow hugs the shoulders of the narrow road as his SUV climbs higher into the hills.
“It’s prettier than I expected.” The fading sun casts red and gold over the white plains until we get into the heavier trees.
When we turn off the highway onto a small dirt road, a feeling of almost claustrophobia takes hold. Through a narrow set of jagged bluffs, we wind along a frozen stream to the sign pointing towards the bed and breakfast.
“If I hear banjos out here, I’m breaking your ankles,” Dean mutters.
“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” I hope.
But when we pass the first cabin nestled in the woods, it becomes clear just how gorgeous this entire set up is.
Each is a complete little homestead. A full woodshed is arranged next to every porch. And there’s at least a half mile between each place.
“Where do we check in?” Dean slows to check the number on the post near the driveway.
“I already did. Keep going, we’re at the end. I wanted it to be quiet.” I point directly ahead in the direction of the last of the light filtering through the towering pines.
“Sure, except for whoever ends up in that one.” He jabs his finger at the smaller cabin set just across the clearing from ours.
“Eh, maybe it’ll stay empty. Besides, it’s too tiny for a party. Worst case scenario it’s a couple.” I fling open my door after he rolls to a stop and stretch my back.
