"My god...it's full of stars."
Simon followed Irene's gaze upward to the vast dome of clear sky that hung over their heads, seemingly so close he could reach up and touch it. Then he looked back down at his fiancée and grinned. "I love you when you get geeky," he said.
He knew exactly what she meant, though. The sight was a little more familiar to him than to her, but it always left him just as awestruck as the first time he saw it. This far out from the city, away from the light pollution, you could really see the stars in a way you couldn't at home. Instead of a few faint, twinkling dots, the sky practically teemed with a panoply of gleaming lights. Simon was no astronomer--he could just barely pick out Orion and the Big Dipper--but something like that hit you right down in the gut.
It also reminded you how late it was. "Come on," he said, hefting the cooler out of the trunk. "One more load, and I think we can leave everything else for tomorrow."
Irene grabbed a bag and dashed ahead to get the door for him. "Mmmmm," she purred. "I feel like I'm marrying into royalty. One of the privileged Minnesota aristocracy, those lucky few who have a cabin on 'the lake'. Remind me to thank your uncle yet again for letting us stay here."
"Not a problem," Simon puffed out as he walked the cooler into the cabin. "He...oof...he always says that he doesn't get enough use out of the place." Simon let the cooler fall next to the fridge with a thud. "Whoof! You don't notice just how much two people eat in a week until you have to bring it all up in one load." They didn't technically have to bring all the food along with them; there was a little general store about fifteen miles away. But part of their unspoken agreement was that for the next seven days, they would be leaving the car keys by the door, the cell phones off, and the laptops back in Minneapolis. This was their first real vacation together, and they wanted to make the most of it.
Irene was already unpacking the second cooler, slotting food into the fridge and freezer with an almost military precision. "I'm just glad that your uncle's idea of 'roughing it' doesn't extend to a lack of electricity. Means I'll be able to do some real cooking." Even though they'd eaten on the drive up, Simon's mouth watered a little at the thought; spending a whole week without having to order out because one or both of them was too busy to cook sounded a little like heaven.
It seemed like only a moment before Irene had everything stashed away, but part of that probably came from the fact that Simon kept spacing out. The long drive from the Twin Cities, the excitement and anticipation of the trip, the hot, sticky work of unloading the car...it was all beginning to catch up to him. "Come on," he said to her with a weary smile, "let me show you the bedroom."
Irene smiled flirtatiously at him. "Is that an invitation, Mister Landry?" she asked, brushing her hand along his arm.
Simon chuckled. "It's an invitation to bed, at least," he replied. "It's a little too late for anything else. Like unpacking, that will probably..." He paused to let out a yawn that was only a little bit theatrical. "...have to wait until I've had a good night's sleep." He took Irene's arm and led her into the bedroom. "I should probably have stopped a few more times, but then we'd have gotten in even later. And dealing with traffic on these little two-lane highways always--"
Irene's squeal of delight interrupted him. "Oh my god!" she gasped. "Is this actually our view? I mean, it's not going to go away when we wake up?"
