“You wouldn't be.”
She didn't answer my question, but I could tell she wouldn't elaborate, so I let that one go. I did love a challenge.
“It's no secret you avoid my calls and get frustrated with me on the phone,” she said as she set down her hot chocolate. “I wasn't sure what kind of reception to expect, to be honest. But you need cash, you live in the mountains, and that's a good fit for both of us right now. I figured it was worth a shot, at any rate.”
I grinned, and it seemed to surprise her. There wasn't a single person on this planet as stubborn as Marie Lee—Stella Marie Lee, I meant—or as fit to do my accounting. She told it like it was, and most of the time, I didn't like reality.
But I still went with it.
“That's true.” I toasted her with my mug. “Our conversations are frustrating. But I haven't gotten rid of you yet, have I?”
She blinked. “No. Why is that?”
“I need people that challenge me.” I stood up and set the hot chocolate near the sink. Then I pulled a coat on and stepped into a pair of muck boots by the door. “Help yourself to whatever you want. There's some food in the fridge. I need to get the fire going in your cabin so you don't freeze tonight. It's still warm during the day, but the nights get cold.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Without another word, I walked outside. What else was I supposed to say? She was far more charming in person than I'd expected. Although she was clearly in an uncertain situation now, it didn't seem to change the inner core of strength I'd always sensed on our calls. Though I couldn't reconcile the frustrating woman on the phone that rarely backed my investment ideas with the confident woman before me now.
And, for some reason, I didn't want to.
3 Stella
The twitter and call of a bird outside woke me the next morning.
I stirred, wrapped in the warmth of a sleeping bag that Mark had dug out of . . . somewhere . . . after starting a fire in a small fireplace. The cabin he'd given me wasn't large. Barely had room for a small bed, a square desk, a chair, a pole to hang clothes across the far wall, and a tiny bathroom with a standup shower. It had just been built a few months ago when a woman named Lizbeth had moved in here. But it was oddly perfect.
Small. Isolated. Quiet.
Heaven.
My new phone chimed. I grabbed it off the ground where it charged near a plug in the wall and yawned to find a text message.
Grandma: You've arrived safely at your mountain retreat?
Stella Marie: Yes! My friend is here and all is well. Love you.
My finger hesitated over the send button. Was Mark a friend? That would be a generous interpretation of the word. But client sounded weird, and he was more than just an acquaintance. He had, without pressing much, taken me in when I needed it the most. If that wasn't a friend, then what was? I sent it.
Her response came moments later.
Grandma: Love you.
With a little yawn, I stretched my arms over my head. The dying fire kept the room warm. Outside, fresh sunlight streamed through the naked tree branches and onto the ground. A little wind drifted by, and the soft scent of fall lingered in the air. Beyond my cabin lay a summer camp—Adventura—but I didn't know much else about it beyond annual income, operating expenses, and a few other ratios that had nothing to do with reality. I knew Mark and investors had sunk money into this, that he'd had a bad second summer, and those investors had left at the end of the summer. A guy named Maverick took over those investors in a last-minute save that prevented Mark from losing everything.
Several big churches had pulled their reservations at the last possible minute in July, and now Mark still scrambled to come up with cash. With a shake of my head, I pushed those thoughts away.
Work would come later. It never had before. Work had always been first. But now it couldn't be.
Because I had no job anymore.
Right now, it was time for a run. Running here would be far different than a city park or long blocks, but there had been a road that brought me here.
Last night, Mark had wordlessly helped me lug my two suitcases and rolling laptop case inside. I riffled through them now, yanking out a pair of black pants and my favorite socks. Even so little luggage cluttered the available area. I'd have to buy hangers at some point, but living out of bags was acceptable for now. My gaze drifted outside. I'd also have to confront Mark again at some point.
Perhaps it wouldn't feel so daunting now that I knew he wouldn't kick me out. At least, not yet.
Once ready for my run, I rooted through my laptop bag, grabbed a stack of sticky notes, and scrawled my goals for the day on top. Then I slapped them on the wall on my way out.
1. Notify grandma
2. Buy food, hangers, and chai mix.
3. Check on my clients.
4. Go for a run.
Maybe hiding in the mountains wouldn't be so bad after all.
4 Mark
If Stella had made anything clear last night, it was that she wanted to be left alone.
So did I.
A craving for isolation, or maybe something else entirely, drove me to declare my official mountain man status after JJ's wedding. The summer camp season had ended at Adventura, which made the timing perfect. Justin winterized the most remote cabins and ran off somewhere with my little sister, leaving me alone with a lot of ideas and thoughts and . . . other things.
What mountain man status actually meant, I had no idea, but the vague idea in my mind involved
