Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(28)

She, too, wore that same stiff expression—there was no warmth or chattiness. Maybe that’s what passed for professionalism. Hannah looked for warmth in people, though, a way to connect. She felt uncomfortable when she couldn’t find it. Maybe she’d ask about the tattoo later. People loved questions about themselves.

Ingrid moved to the kitchen area, which was open to the great room.

That row of giant knives gleamed on the backsplash. It seemed like such an odd display, dangerous, menacing. Unsafe. Who would need so many different types of knives? What if there were children in the rental party?

Hannah also noted a battalion of liquor bottles—Grey Goose, Blanton’s, Bombay Blue Sapphire, five bottles at least of red, more white. This was in addition to the alcohol she and Bruce had brought, which was not on display. Not up to Mako’s standards, she guessed. How much did they plan to drink?

Hannah drifted into the dining area to get a closer look at the sculpture. As she drew closer, she felt goose bumps come up on her flesh.

Yes, it was a skull but not an animal. It was unmistakably human. She found herself transfixed by the dark eyeholes, moved in closer.

What surrounded it was not bleached wood but more bones. She was no expert but she could make out ribs, pieces of vertebrae, hip bones, collarbones, shards and fragments, sharp and ragged. Hannah released a little gasp, then backed up and found herself knocking into Chef Jeff.

“Interesting piece, isn’t it?” he said.

Hannah felt at a loss for words. “Is that real? Are those—human bones?”

He smiled coolly, holding a big pair of grilling tongs. His apron was smeared with something dark. It looked like—blood. His gaze was steely. Hannah felt her stomach churn a bit.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Those are human bones. This piece is created by a local artist, a friend of the host’s. Are you familiar with the concept of memento mori?”

Hannah shook her head, wishing she could just return to the group but not wanting to be rude.

“From the Latin,” he went on. “Remember that you must die.”

The words, his tone sent a little chill through her.

“Um, okay. Wow,” said Hannah.

“It sounds grim,” Chef Jeff went on. “But really it’s a reminder that every moment is precious, and that nothing matters as much as you think it does. Because death is certain, its time uncertain.”

“Oh,” said Hannah, feeling uninformed and uncomfortable. She looked around again for Bruce, hoping for a rescue from this conversation. But she didn’t see him.

“Most people don’t like to think about death. But the more you do, the happier you’ll be that you’re alive.”

That did make a kind of sense.

“Where did he get the bones?” asked Hannah.

Chef Jeff gave a sudden, deep belly laugh, startling her. “I have no idea. Grave robbing maybe?”

“Oh,” said Hannah again as Chef Jeff returned to the kitchen still chuckling.

She looked at the sculpture once more and felt a deep shudder move through her. Remember that you must die.

Creepy, she decided. This place was beautiful, but creepy as fuck.

Cricket’s laughter drew her attention away from the bones. Her friend and Joshua sat close together on the couch, whispering.

She was surprised to feel something like jealousy. Lately she’d found herself envious of couples who seemed to have nothing on their mind except each other—when Bruce seemed always to be thinking about work, or whatever, and Hannah’s thoughts centered on Gigi or her paranoid imaginings.

She missed the ease of that phase of life—before marriage, house, and children. Only sometimes. Her job at Red World had been manic, but fun. Lots of parties, travel, managing big personalities—which was something at which she excelled through a lifetime of training. It wasn’t what she ever planned to do—she had been a business major at USF, graduated at the top of her class.

It had just been easy when Mako offered her a job after graduation.

But she’d happily given it up at Bruce’s behest when she was eight months pregnant. Stay home with the baby for a while. Figure out your next act. You don’t want to work for your brother forever.

But she hadn’t figured that part out yet, that next phase. Maybe it was Gigi. Just being a mom for now. What was wrong with that?

Hannah moved to the front porch and found Bruce outside. He was putting his phone in his pocket, then getting another bag from the car. Who had he been talking to? She didn’t even want to ask.

She walked out to him, gave him a kiss instead of an interrogation.

“I just forgot my laptop, love,” he said. “Let’s go in.”

It reminded her that she had to get her phone.

“I’m just going to give Lou and Gigi a quick call.”

“Give them my love,” he said, heading toward the door.

It wasn’t disconnected. But the statement carried the very male assumption that everything was fine unless you heard otherwise, that a simple expression of love was enough. Again, an ease she wasn’t sure she’d experienced since before Gigi was born. Why was it so different for him? He cared. But he wasn’t hooked into Gigi’s well-being in the same way.

Hannah was grateful to find a strong signal when before it had been poor. Wonky, Mako had said.