Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(4)

Mako frowns another moment, then gets up and pours himself a sixth bourbon from the wet bar. If Liza is concerned about Mako’s drinking, it doesn’t show. She looks at her box.

“Sorry, I’m not sure who left this or why. And I don’t want to be rude. But this whole thing is a little creepy. Thanks, but I’m putting mine right in the trash,” she says.

Then she rises and does just that. Hannah hears the garbage open and close in the kitchen. Then Liza returns to the couch. Hannah tries to catch her eyes, but Liza is looking at Mako with a slight frown.

“Good idea,” says Hannah.

She searches for something more to say, a way to connect with Liza. But there’s nothing. They are friendly, but not friends—though Liza is always unfailingly polite and warm. There’s something between them, a barrier which Hannah can’t seem to break through. Hannah suspects that Liza keeps her guard up because of Sophia. Hannah vows to talk to her mom about being less brittle, more welcoming. Sophia has her issues, but she’s not always awful. Sometimes she’s warm and funny. Maybe she feels threatened by Liza, though Hannah can’t imagine why.

Hannah scans the room again, feels that deflation, that current of sadness that always seems to undercut the holiday, that awareness that nothing that glitters can stay. Darkness must always come. She tries not to think about the gifts, who gave them, why. Someone in this room, of course. But why play this game?

She gives her brother another glance, but he is blank. Her gaze drifts to the locked front door, to the windows that only reveal darkness. Strange.

Hannah gets up to gather the remainder of the mess while Liza and Mako collect their things. Hannah and Bruce are staying. Liza and Mako never spend the night; which Hannah gets. Mom doesn’t make it comfortable. Even Bruce would prefer not to stay. But they do. And Gigi is sound asleep in the bassinet in the spacious, beautifully appointed guest suite.

This is what they’ve got. Except for his mom, Bruce doesn’t have much family. Any family, really. So Hannah’s will be everything to Gigi. It’s not perfect.

What family is ever perfect?

In the driveway, Mako pulls Hannah into a big hug.

“But did you bring those gifts?” she asks quietly.

“Why would I do that?”

“Right,” she says. Why would he?

“Well, don’t let mom get to you,” Hannah whispers, holding on to him.

“You’re right. She is who she is.”

“That’s true of all of us, isn’t it? No one’s perfect.”

He puts a hand on her cheek. “Except for you.”

She puts her hand to his. She’s lucky to have a brother like Mako.

“We still good for that long weekend this summer?” he says, moving away. “I booked the house already.”

Why he was so into this idea, she did not know. He’d brought it up multiple times—his birthday present to Hannah, a bonus to Bruce for all his hard work. He was like this, got an idea in his head and wouldn’t let it go. There was something else, too, some other reason. But Hannah didn’t know what.

When the time came, though, the chances of him canceling were high; or Bruce may or may not be able to get away. Grown-ups only, Mako had insisted. So Hannah and Bruce would have to make arrangements for Gigi—when they hadn’t even left her for an evening yet. She wasn’t sure she would be ready for that.

But her brother kept talking about a stunning house deep in the woods of Georgia, a kind of self-styled wellness retreat—hiking, yoga, massage. He had a way of painting a picture—an idyllic weekend in nature, a fireplace, her and Bruce reconnecting with their couplehood, maybe an opportunity to grow closer to Liza. We’ll invite Cricket—Hannah’s best friend, who was more like part of the family.

Hannah had agreed and put the weekend in the calendar—six months from now. A lifetime. Anything could happen between now and then. Truly, there was almost zero chance they’d pull it off.

“Sure,” she says, looking back at Bruce, who is looking at his phone, frowning. Hannah feels a familiar jingle of unease. “Of course.”

“Don’t let this guy talk you out of it,” he says, throwing a glance at Bruce, who looks up and shrugs amiably, frown dropping.

“We’re in,” he says, and Mako gives him a satisfied nod.

“It’s isolated but there’s Wi-Fi,” Mako goes on. “We can check in to work if we have to. You can keep your eye on that baby monitor.”

“I could bring Gigi,” she said.

“But then it’s not a vacation for you and Bruce, right?”

That was true. But his statement annoys her. Once you have a baby, you see it. The world is divided. There were people with kids. And then there were people without kids. Parents remembered what it was like before. But people before parenthood had no idea what it was like afterward. It was an abyss between Hannah and Mako, would be until he had kids of his own and maybe even then.

Hannah glances at Liza who stands by the car watching them impassively. Hannah can’t imagine the tiny woman pregnant, mothering. Which was a silly thing to think—judgmental and not nice. Hannah has more of Sophia in her sometimes than she cares to admit.

“Where did you hear about the house?” asks Hannah. He wasn’t normally a vacation rental type.

“I’ll send you the link. It’s—amazing.”