Page 33 of Monsters and Beauties

When Tara finally looked at me and saw my glare, her shoulders pulled back and she gave me a saccharine smile.

“I just couldn’t do it. Without my weekly manicures, my Netflix, and then of course, ordering out.” She lifted her nose in a very snubbed-up way. “I would just die.” She acted and sounded overly dramatic as she steered the conversation back to “safe” ground.

I was getting a little defensive about the entire trip, because the truth was a part of me thought I was crazy for going there alone.

But the bigger part of me said I needed this. Over the last month, since my grandmother had passed away, I felt like I was in this hamster wheel. I just kept going round and round with no end in sight.

My routine was exactly the same. I went home to an empty one-bedroom apartment, woke up, went to work, grabbed takeout, and sat alone in my living room staring at the TV that played reruns.

I felt like my life was draining away right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

At least before I could visit my grandmother. We’d have Sunday dinners together, or we’d take hikes in the woods close to her house. Even at the ripe old age of eighty-five, she was still so adventurous.

So yeah, I was afraid, but I was more excited because I wanted to reconnect once more with the wilderness, which was something my grandmother instilled in me to appreciate and love.

I also wanted away from everything and everyone that reminded me I was utterly alone now.

“Couldn’t you just go somewhere close?”

“I could. But this is where I want to go.”

I’d been camping plenty of times while growing up, but never anything as intense and off the beaten path as what I planned at the end of the month. Nevertheless, excitement filled me.

“I’ll be fine.”

With one more veiled look in my direction, Tara muttered something about having to get back to work and left me alone.

I glanced back down at my phone, once again looking at the town of Ketchikan where I’d be staying, checking out what shops were around, then finally opening up the map that showed me the cabin where I’d spend most of my time.

I found a smile curving my face.

For the first time since my grandmother had passed, I actually felt… happy.

Maybe this was exactly what I needed to dig myself out of that dark hole.

ChapterThree

Marcella

One month later

Ilet the last bag I’d hauled up to my room drop to the floor, shut the door behind me, and looked around the tiny place I rented at the Bed-and-Breakfast for the night.

I was out of breath from trekking up the deck stairs that led to the entrance of my room. Sweat beaded my brow, and I unzipped my jacket, cast it aside, and was regretting wearing an extra layer underneath.

But I’d read up when I was researching for this trip that the weather up north could be finicky, especially when I stayed at the isolated cabin in the woods. And I was pretty sure I’d over-prepared with the amount of supplies I’d brought.

Then again, could you really over-prepare anything for my kind of trip? I’d rather take the whole kitchen sink than realize I’d forgotten something.

I landed in Ketchikan just that afternoon and took a ferry to the town where the Bed-and-Breakfast was located. As tired as I should be from the long flights—one from Colorado to Seattle, then another to Ketchikan—I felt pretty energetic.

I walked through the living room, past the kitchenette, and glanced out the window that overlooked the town. There was a bay right below and I smiled as I watched an otter pop its head out before continuing its swim.

From my vantage point, I could see the little shops that lined the streets. There was the main bridge off in the distance where a couple of older men were fishing.

Even though it was August, in this part of the country, the weather was overcast and chilly enough to where I was glad I’d brought my fall clothes. The nights would be colder, but I’d come prepared, even if lugging all that shit had been a pain in the ass while traveling.

The cruise ship was at the port in the distance, and I let my gaze linger on the horizon before turning and taking in the room, pleasantly surprised at how homey and comfortable the space was.

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