We had chores to do, just to make the cabin habitable overnight. While Ethan brought more wood indoors from a covered-over stack outside, I stored milk, bread, eggs, and a few other food items we'd purloined from our parent's fridge.
"There are loads of tins and jars in store cupboards but we'll need to do a shop in the morning."
"I'll go alone if you want to enjoy a run, Sophie."
"Are you sure that's okay?"
"Of course. I know you love the woods here. Just take your bear mace to be safe."
I popped the cork on a bottle of red wine stashed in wooden crates under the master bed, pouring two glasses, and handing one to Ethan. We clinked our glasses, and I swirled mine, admiring rich ruby tones circling around while held up against a powerful ceiling spotlight.
I took a big slug of Dutch courage and prepared for the upcoming conversation.
"There is plenty more wine where this came from, but we must replace whatever is borrowed."
"Yeah. It's a good job we both have great jobs and can afford what lies ahead."
"Do you think we'll need money quickly, then?"
"If Dad kicks us out we definitely will, Sophie."
"I've been considering that too."
"Have you any thoughts to share about it?"
I took my boyfriend's hand and led him to a sofa facing the cabin's log fire. Flickering soft light and the warmth radiating off a cast iron log-burning stove felt soothing but my nerves were piqued and Ethan knew that.
He sat on the floor with his back against the sofa, opening both legs wide, and patting the area in between his knees.
"Come and sit down between my legs facing the stove, Sophie. Relax a little in my arms, drink some wine, and let's talk about what's worrying you."
"I'm worried about Dad."
"What about him?"
"If he doesn't approve of us, we have a problem."
"Not the way I see it, Sophie."
I leaned back against him with my legs pointing straight out in front. Ethan rocked me back and forth gently with both arms wrapped gently around my midriff and his knees pressing tight against my sides. I felt stronger for it.
Imagining losing my stepdad or being forced to choose between the man who raised me and a new boyfriend brought tears to my eyes. I spluttered into my wine and sounded forlorn. Ethan took my glass, set it on a table beside him, and rolled me over, straddling my waist with powerful legs.
"We're not blood-related, sweetheart. The fact that Mom and Dad found each other and married is both fortunate and unlucky for us."
