Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(62)

“Bruce?”

“He’ll be back down soon—maybe. He gets swallowed up in work.”

“You okay with that?” asked Cricket.

They could not be as perfect as they seemed. No one was. They just seemed—easy with each other, accepting, loving, considerate. She watched at dinner as he’d filled her wineglass, she’d picked a piece of lint off his shirt. They were together in a way she’d never felt with anyone. Maybe it was the baby. That made them a family, not just a couple. There was this powerful bond that could not be broken. She envied it.

Hannah shrugged easily. “I knew who he was when I married him. A workaholic. A stoic. Solid. I never planned to change him.”

Hannah shot another glance toward the lake, eyes traveling toward where they’d seen the light come on. Ever vigilant.

“Couldn’t even if you tried. That’s what they say, right?”

“That’s the truth.”

Hannah slid over to sit next to Cricket. “And you and Joshua?”

Cricket slid from the side, back into the tub, let the warm water heat her skin. “I mean it. I think I’m in love.”

“Well, he’s definitely in love with you,” said Hannah with a big grin. “He hangs on your every word, gazes at you like you are princess, angel, goddess all wrapped into one.”

“He does not,” she said, nudged her friend with her shoulder. Did he?

“Oh, yes,” said Hannah. “He does.”

“Do you like him?”

There was only a flutter of hesitation. Cricket chose to ignore it. That moment when Hannah and Joshua had met was weird; it gave Cricket an unpleasant sense of unease, had raised goose bumps on her flesh. But they’d all chosen to blow it off. Just a weird mistake. Nothing.

“He seems kind, smart. He’s funny. He makes you happy. What’s not to like?”

When they were younger, Cricket had taken Hannah’s friendship for granted. It was only now that they were older, now that she’d seen what friendship meant to other people, that she truly appreciated Hannah’s brand of loyalty and unflagging support. She tried to be the same kind of friend to Hannah; she knew she fell short too often.

“And how’s my girl?” asked Cricket.

“Gigi,” said Hannah, eyes drifting to the phone. “She’s an angel. Truly. Just a sweet little soul. We’re blessed.”

“Was it hard to leave her?”

“Awful. I’m checking the cam a hundred times a day.”

“Oh, I would be, too,” she said.

But probably that wasn’t true. Probably she’d be one of those selfish mothers who couldn’t wait to fob off the baby on a doting grandparent to run off to this thing or that. She suspected, though she hadn’t shared this with Joshua, that she wasn’t exactly mother material. He wanted a big family, lots of kids. He’d said this more than once. She usually just responded with some kind of warm noise like “aw” or one of her usual “I love that!” Then she’d kiss him and that usually ended whatever conversation they were having. Hannah was born to be a mother. Maybe that wasn’t true for every woman. Surely it wasn’t.

“But it’s good for you and Bruce to have some time away. Some couple time.”

“And Lou’s so great.”

“But.”

“But—” said Hannah, brow wrinkling. “Just a feeling.”

“You’re a new mom, first time leaving her. Of course you’re nervous. But it’s fine. She’s fine. This—ghosts and strangers in the woods aside—” she swept her arm to indicate the house, the trees, the stars. “This is good.”

Hannah closed her eyes and leaned back. “Yes,” she said. “It is. But what did we see out there, Crick?”

“Honestly? Probably nothing. We just scared ourselves silly like we used to do with the Ouija board.”

“And the light at the cabin?”

“Just a timer?”

Hannah laughed, leaning her head back. “You’re probably right.”



* * *



Cricket didn’t mind a little drama, a little intrigue, some safe scares like their ghost hunt. Had there been someone by the lake? She really wasn’t sure. But Cricket didn’t want anything to be really wrong. Joshua would come back soon. She didn’t even want to think about him leaving to go to town—like why? It was weird, wasn’t it? She knew the Wi-Fi wasn’t down. And she knew there was something weird between him and his boss. But she could hardly throw any stones in that area, chronic cheater that she was. All that was for another time. He’d come back. They’d get high—higher—and then they’d all have fun tomorrow.

A flash of lightning lit the sky, but Hannah didn’t see it because her eyes were closed. Cricket didn’t say anything. Hannah would make them go inside. And Cricket was loving the bubbles, her buzz, the stars. She didn’t want it to end yet.

“Was that thunder?” Hannah asked, eyes still closed. No way she could have heard that over the hum of the jets. Mom ears.

“I don’t think so?” said Cricket. “Just relax.”

“I think I felt a temperature drop,” said Hannah. “There’s a storm coming.”