The Hyundai Elantra looked out of place when she drove it in town, next to everyone's American cars. She was used to it there. But it really looked out of place the farther she drove along Solomon Creek. She felt as though she were driving back in time.
When was the last time you came out here? Fifteen years? Closer to twenty.
Alice passed the long driveway the first time. She had to turn around and find it going the other way, which took more time. By the time she pulled up in front of the cabin, her nerves were shot.
They did not improve when she took in the view.
It's not a cabin anymore. It looks like a house.
Gone was the tumbledown shack that she remembered from years before. The frame of the building was still there, but it had been expanded at some point to almost twice its original size. A porch had been added to the front, and the roof was obviously fairly new.
The changes to the inside were even more drastic. The front room was smaller than she remembered, due to two small, additional rooms on her left. One was filled almost entirely with books. The other looked as though it was still under construction, with the floor half-sanded and tools everywhere. On the opposite wall, the outline of a door was stenciled into the drywall.
She went back into the living room. The windows at the front provided natural light, but otherwise it was fairly dark. The old fireplace looked the same. She looked down at the rug, shaking her head ruefully. That ugly thing. She didn't like to admit it, but it looked good on the dark hardwood.
On the right was the small galley kitchen, completely renovated. Running water, even a dishwasher. It had been years, she assumed, since he had had to cook over an open fire outside.
The thought made her angry. Why didn't he tell me more about what he was doing? If I had known it was like this, maybe I would have come out here!
Maybe.
A part of her knew it didn't matter what it looked like. Hardly anything could have persuaded her to stay at the cabin.
It's too…him. The him from his boyhood, anyway. Too rustic, too solitary. In love with the woods. Head in the clouds. All of those books…well, there's nothing else to do out here, except play board games or fish.
A small closet housed a stacked washer and dryer. She opened a door on the other side of the kitchen and gasped.
He never told me he installed a bathroom! With a tub!
Yes, he did. You were convinced it was little better than a Port-A-Potty.
It seems you were wrong about that as well. But what did you think? He's been staying here for weeks. Surely he had to shower. And eat. And do laundry, although he could have used Downton for all of that.
Apparently not.
She looked through the medicine cabinet, finding everything harmless. So far, there was nothing she could see that was an obvious sign that a woman had influenced the design, or was staying there.
Charlie's not an idiot. If he's lavishing gifts on his mistress and lovechild, he won't make it plain to see.
Her attorney had explained that if it could be proven her husband was spending money on someone else, an equal amount would have to be given to her. Doubtless he'd been warned.
Walking into the back of the cabin, light poured through the windows of the bedroom. An old brass bed sat innocently against the wall, flanked by a simple bedside table. Alice snorted.
So much for a dirty mattress on the floor.
It wasn't what she would prefer. Their bed at home held a king-size mattress, while this one was only a queen. She went out onto the back porch, looking at the view. She couldn't understand why someone who'd lived his entire life here would find it appealing. Wasn't he tired of trees, mountains, of the creek?
It was quiet.
He'll have to make a choice. Either the cabin, or his paramour. Which does he want more?
If he wants the cabin, the divorce will be drawn out. Prolonging the scandal. Their shame.
If he wants her, he'll lose a part of himself.
Either way, she won.
But as she viewed the scenery, she clenched her fists, her anger returning. Even when they were young, he had an irrational attachment to this place. Over her…
He lay sprawled on the grass, his nose buried in a book. She got up, twirled, hoping he'd notice.
He didn't.
"Do you like my dress?" she asked finally. He looked up.
"Huh?"
"My dress," she repeated, irritated.
"It's pretty," he smiled briefly before gazing down the hill in the direction of the creek.
He wanted to stay longer after their picnic. She refused, insisting he keep his word and take her dancing in Hazard. She never forgot the way his eyes darkened. It was the first time she could remember him being angry with her. Choosing something other than her…
Going back into the bedroom, she searched through the small wardrobe, finding only Charlie's clothes. She even looked under the bed. She went through the other rooms, checking every nook and cranny for evidence of the affair. Nothing.
Well. If nothing else, once the cabin was hers – and she was certain it would be sooner or later - , she could rent it out to hikers or people looking for a weekend away. It would be nice to get extra income without having to do any of the work herself. She'd hire someone to finish the other room. She laughed, thinking of all the work he'd done. I'll have to thank him later.
Other than the unfinished room, the only visible thing that needed fixing was that funny dent in the bedroom wall.
She couldn't figure it out.