Her heart was pounding as her thoughts raced. She couldn’t escape the memory of her boss yelling at her at work, or the smug post she saw on social media from an acquaintance boasting about her perfect family. These thoughts only led to more anxiety, as she thought about her parents asking when she was going to move on and reminding her she was still young enough for a family. The constant stream of negativity was its own doom scroll. Suddenly, she felt herself starting to panic, her breath becoming shallow and fast, just like in the past when she had nearly passed out. She thought about leaving her garage when she heard the rumble of a motorcycle. The sound reassured her, and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind and calm down. She wiped her hands on her pants and took a step forward.
The sound of the motorcycle was the sound of hope. It had a unique tone that was rugged yet sophisticated, like Daniel Craig as James Bond, she chuckled to herself. The man on the bike was the polar opposite of everything she was familiar with. He was a contradiction, and it was what drew her to him. His eyes showed that he cared for others, even those he didn’t know, but he didn’t seek their approval or acceptance. He was untethered from the worries and fears that had trapped her. She kept the trip they were about to take a secret from her friends and family, who believed she was attending a weekend training seminar.
As she saw him sitting on the motorcycle, she was momentarily breathless. With his helmet off, he looked like a wild and untamed force, and she wondered if she could ever hope to corral him. But before she could even say hello, he swept her into his arms and kissed her with such passion that her knees went weak.
He then pulled back with a grin, reaching into his bag and tossing her a flask. “Take a long sip,” he instructed, “and I’ll strap your bag onto the bike.”
She did as she was told, taking only a small sip from the flask. The metal felt cool on her lips, but the whiskey inside was warm, causing her to giggle, even his flask is a contradiction.
By the time they turned onto the highway she was completely absorbed in the moment. The feel of his body against hers, the vibration of the motorcycle between her legs, and the rush of wind pulling her hair made her feel alive. The scent of his cologne, with just a hint of spice, was intoxicating and it only added to her growing desire. The scenery changed from the highway to a dense forest, and she couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment as she held onto him tighter.
They were about halfway through their journey when he yelled over the wind, “I’m going to pull over and check the tires.” They stopped at a small country store off the highway.
He explained that he usually bought his fly fishing tackle there, and to his surprise, they also had a good wine selection. As she got off the bike, he handed her some cash and asked her to buy a couple of bottles of Bordeaux.
She felt nervous, as she was not used to selecting the wine on her own. She had only ever purchased wine that she had tried with him. Now, she was alone heading in the store, facing an unfamiliar selection.
“Just buy the one with the deep punt on the bottom of the bottle if in doubt,” he said with a wink. She sighed, remembering what he had told her in the past, that the deep indentation on the bottom of the bottle was no guarantee of quality, but at least indicated that more money was spent on the bottle.
Back on the highway, her confidence began to return. The past year had shaken her to her very core and she had questioned every aspect of her life. Insecurities that she never would have imagined had crept in this last year. Her friends had always seen her as an independent adventurer, always up for a challenge. But now, even buying wine at a small store made her feel insecure.
She told herself to take it one step at a time. This weekend was a step in the right direction and she needed to stay in the moment.
Suddenly, the moment was disrupted by a cloud of dust as they merged onto a dirt road that wound up a hill through the woods.
After a few more minutes they arrived at a picturesque cabin set amidst lush greenery and overlooking a tranquil river. The cabin was charmingly rustic, with its weathered wood exteriors and quaint white Christmas lights twinkling in the front and around the porch. The porch itself was cozy, with two rocking chairs and a comfortable hammock swaying gently in the breeze.
As he helped her dismount from the motorcycle, they looked at each other. To her surprise, she was covered in dirt and grime from the ride, while he remained surprisingly clean. He looked at her, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes, and said, “You know, your smile shines even brighter with a bit of dirt on you.” And with that, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She felt her heart swell, she was happy.
As they entered the cabin, the warm and inviting aroma of cinnamon and leather greeted their senses. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the large windows that framed the river and the river rock fireplace.
However, as she glanced around, she noticed that there was no firewood in sight. Following the windows, she caught a glimpse of a splitting maul and a stack of wood logs outside on the deck. She turned to find him standing behind her, a glass of red wine in hand.
“Looks like we have some work to do before we can relax by the fire,” he said, with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Since you are already dirty, why don’t you split the wood while I draw a bath?”
She playfully punched him in the arm and took the glass of wine from his hand with a mischievous smirk. “I’m taking that relaxing bath now. I hope your hands don’t get blistered, I may want a foot massage after,” she said confidently. As she turned to head towards the bathroom, she brushed some of the dirt off herself and onto him, playfully teasing, “There, now everything is back to normal. You’re the one who’s usually covered in dirt in this… relationship.”
Her heart started racing as she suddenly realized what she had just said. Had she just referred to their thing as a relationship? As she soaked in the bath and sipped her wine she felt grateful he didn’t react to her slip of the relationship comment.
As she stepped out of the bath onto the cool tile floor and began to towel herself off, she could hear the muffled sounds of him singing along to a Dean Martin tune. She couldn’t help but giggle, knowing exactly what was happening in the kitchen. Whenever he cooked pasta, he always played either Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra to keep him company.
She crept quietly out of the bathroom, and peered in to see him with his back towards her. He was so engrossed in his cooking and singing that he didn’t notice her standing there, his body swaying in time to the music as he animatedly drained the pasta in the sink. It was adorable, and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
As he was transferring the freshly cooked pasta into a large serving bowl, he suddenly paused. The music had stopped mid-song, and he wondered if the record player had skipped. He finished pouring the pasta and started to walk into the living room to check on the turntable, when he heard the unmistakable sound of “Shake Your Hips” by The Rolling Stones start playing.
That’s when he saw her. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts as a short dress, only partly buttoned and her breasts were nearly exposed. She looked stunning as she danced by the fire, the flickering light casting shadows against her body and highlighting her curves. She caught his gaze and beckoned him over, a whiskey flask in her hand.
She reached up and put her arms around his neck, while he held her hips and gazed into her deep, dark eyes. They swayed slowly to the music, their bodies in harmony as the songs changed to “Casino Boogie” and then “Tumbling Dice.” She took occasional sips from the whiskey flask as they danced, while he smiled in delight.
After she finished the flask, she pulled him in for a kiss. But instead of meeting her lips, he picked her up and gently set her against the wall, their bodies pressing together as they locked in a passionate embrace. This wasn’t going to be a wild, weekend away fling, this was going to be a night of deep love.
His hands roamed over her body as he began kissing her neck just below her ear. With his right hand, he grabbed hers and held it above her head, locking eyes with her for a moment before releasing. She then began undoing the remaining buttons on her shirt, and he reached for the hem, pulling it off to expose her bare skin. The fire crackled as he pulled her naked body from the wall and carried her to the bedroom.
She awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and a squirrel running along the roof. Her eyes squinted at the metallic flask reflecting the morning sun that sat on the nightstand. The initials “JH” prominently exposed on the side facing her, she reached over and pushed the flask over. She sighed, pulled the covers off, and was immediately hit with a chill.
The morning chill sent shivers down her spine, making her feel acutely aware of her nakedness. She reached for the flannel shirt from the night before, buttoning it up and slipping into sweatpants and slippers. As she made her way out of the bedroom and looked around the cabin, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her. The once cozy and inviting space now felt empty and desolate, with the fading warmth of the fire and the dirty plate and wine glass on the dining table serving as somber reminders of the solitude she now faced.
As she rinsed her plate from the night before, she noticed the blisters on her hands. The memories of the previous night flooded back to her, bringing with them a wave of anxiety. When she closed the dishwasher, she felt as though she was also closing the door on the memories of the previous night. But before she could fully succumb to her thoughts, a knock at the door interrupted her. She peered around the corner, her heart skipping a beat as she saw a handsome man standing on the deck.
She grabbed a steak knife from the drawer and stuck it in her waistband before answering the door. With a wary voice, she asked, “Can I help you?”
The man on the deck chuckled and replied, “That’s my line. Good morning, Mrs. Henderson. My name is Josh. I am your host. I must say, you look much better in that shirt than I do.”
“Oh no,” she muttered, feeling embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I’d always wear my husband’s shirts like this when we went camping,” she explained, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Josh smiled kindly and replied, “It’s fine. I left it in there in case one of the guests needed it.”
She was immediately drawn to his kind, familiar eyes and felt at ease in his presence. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, hoping to continue the conversation as a distraction from her thoughts.
“Sure,” he replied with a smile. “Why don’t you sit and relax? I’ll make the coffee. After all, you’re on vacation and I know the kitchen better than anyone.”
She nodded and took a seat in the living room as Josh went to the kitchen to make the coffee. When he returned, he had poured three cups and carried them to the living room. She had discreetly placed the steak knife between two magazines on the coffee table.
“I came this morning to take care of the firewood,” Josh said, pointing to the freshly split logs. “I got stuck in town last night and wasn’t able to get up here to split the firewood for you guys. I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad you found the splitting maul.”
She sat there for a moment with no response. Now that the shock of a stranger at the door had worn off she was taken back by his familiar mannerisms, how he carried himself. “What’s a cabin experience without a bit of firewood spitting?” She finally responded smiling. That’s when she realized he was holding two more cups of coffee besides the one he already handed her. She knew what was coming next and her heart began to thump in her ears.
“Is your husband here?” Josh asked as he gestured with the other coffee cup towards the old bike parked outside. “You don’t see vintage bikes like that in such good condition very often,” he added with a smile.
She hesitated for a moment before shyly responding, “No, he’s not here.”
As she spoke, Josh felt a twinge of embarrassment. He suddenly thought maybe this was a romantic getaway with someone other than her husband. But as his expression must have given away his thoughts, she quickly added, “Jake passed away a little over a year ago. We used to ride up here together on his bike and camp. I felt I needed to ride it up on this trip.”
Josh felt a deep sense of remorse for his mistake. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Henderson,” he said quickly. “I assumed there were two guests because of the booking, and I didn’t realize the situation. I feel like an idiot.”
“Please call me Molly, and it’s just me, I guess I still cling to old habits,” she replied. “This is the first time I’ve made reservations for just myself in a long time.”
Josh admired her strength and confidence. “That’s a difficult bike to ride, and I wouldn’t have split that firewood after such a long ride, my hands would have been done,” he said. He thought about his friend who had lost his wife to cancer a few years prior and how he was unable to move her car from the garage for almost a year. Riding her husband’s motorcycle must have been such an emotional experience. “You are incredibly strong Molly,” he said with awe in his voice.
She didn’t expect to find comfort in the company of a stranger, but as she sat across from Josh, she felt her guard slowly lowering. The weight of her grief was heavy, and she often felt as though she was carrying it alone. But as she looked into Josh’s eyes, she saw kindness and empathy, and she felt a sense of hope.
As she was studying the blisters on her hands she began to smile and replied, “I had to be. Jake always said I was the strongest person he knew, so after he passed, I had to live up to it, I guess.”
She soon forgot about the third cup of coffee and steak knife sitting on the coffee table. For the next few hours they talked about their lives, and she found comfort in sharing her stories with someone who was genuinely interested in listening. It was a welcome change from the constant sympathy and pity she had grown used to. And as they talked, she felt the weight of her grief begin to lift.
Finally, Josh looked at his watch and laughed. “I’m going to have some upset guests down the road if I don’t get over and split the firewood for them,” he said.
Without thinking, she offered to help. “I’ll come help,” she said, showing him her blisters.
“As long as I can repay you by cooking dinner,” Josh responded.
“It’s a deal, do you have a helmet?”, “I’m sure Jake wouldn’t care if you rode bitch on his bike.” she said smiling.
