It was Saturday, January seventeenth. Winter had come with a severity that some were calling historic. Even today, the predicted flurries had developed into full blown white out. Not yet having lit a fire in the stove, my house was its usual bone chilling cold as I sat listening to the reading of road closures on the radio. For the life of me, to this day I do not know why retreat from life took me north instead of south. It was a three dog night and I had yet to acquire even one.
The phone rang a rare occurrence. So rare that I often did not even look to see who it was. However, today was a day that I had long been looking forward to. I had put all my eggs in one basket and someone had come along and stolen it away. Not that I had many eggs to begin with. Nor did I know very many chickens in the area. Other than Nancy at the local greasy spoon, there was John, Dawn's business partner and his wife, Ann. I even met Tracy, Dawn's accountant, when I returned the contents of my ten dollar safety box. Then there was Rita, an interesting young lady from a rich, big city family who was Tracy's friend, working on consignment at some secretive computer tech company just outside city limits. Other than that tribe of people, I had not developed any sort of friendships after hiding myself away in this frozen part of the world.
"Chance! It's me. I know we had planned to go out tonight," (my heart sank) "but with this last batch of snow, I was thinking I'd rather stay in and not go out. So I was wondering, would you be game to grab a bottle of something somewhere and maybe some carry out along with your sleeping bag and come spend the night?"
The highs and lows of life. She had literally fallen out of the sky and into my lap. I had pulled her from the brink, carried her up the steep trail and sat her down before my campfire. I had soared in the aether world between light and gravity when she trusted me enough to stuff away nearly two million in my lockbox. I had been placed in favored status when awarded the privilege of being her protective shield for those two weeks while, together, we had waited for the return of her attempted, murdering criminal husband. Then, having slayed the dragon, heading back to the castle, a door in the floor opened in the dark of night and I fell headlong into the pit of despair.
"Sure. Sounds doable. I need to throw on a pair of studded tires on the back of my limo and probably a couple of bags of sand and a shovel, but sure, there's a good chance that I can make it up your way. What time were you thinking?"
Dawn was nearly an hour north of town, on a good day. I imagined that with said studded tires, stopping to pick up wine, food and a couple of bundles of firewood, it was going to take me a good three hours to make it to her front door.
With a six-pack of IPA, two bottles of champagne and wine, a big bucket of extra crispy chicken, mushrooms, and slaw, I pulled my rolling bucket of rust up into her drive twenty minutes late.
"I was beginning worry," the little woman bundled in white called from the open door as I wrestled with food and beverage.
"Here, take these," I said as I sat one bag inside the door while handing her the other with orders to place the chicken under the broiler for a couple of minutes before turned back to my rambling wreck to retrieve a half dozen gas station bundles of firewood.
After unwrapping and setting everything up in the fireplace, I made my way back down the hall to the kitchen that was larger than my meager cabin in the woods.
