“What are you gonna do now that Dolly’s back in town for good?”
I lifted an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. He rolled his eyes and exhaled.
“Listen, I could give two shits what you do with your personal life, and you may have been drunk as shit when you confessed how you felt about her, but I remember that night pretty fucking well, Tristan, and I’ve never seen you spit poetry over a female. Hell, I’ve never seen you speak that passionately over anyone or anything before.”
“I was drunk,” I said matter-of-factly, but he and I both knew it was a load of shit. I meant every single word I’d said to him that night, how I told him looking at her made my heart feel funny, how it beat for the first time in my fucking life. The very thought of her not in my life was almost painful, like if I didn’t have her as mine I wasn't fully living.
I shouldn’t have thought any of this. I shouldn’t have played with the idea of trying to get her to be mine.
But I told that inner voice to fuck off, because right then and there I devised a plan to make Dolly mine.
3
Dolly
It was a beautiful day despite the frigid weather outside and the promise of a snowstorm coming through later tonight, and even if there was a shit load of stuff in my life that could have brought me down.
I liked to think of things in a positive way, so although I’d been back in Cherry Falls for over a week now, still hadn’t found a job, and was currently crashing on my father’s couch—even if he’d all but demanded I take his bed and he’d take on the sofa, which I declined—I was trying to look “on the bright side.”
So that's what was happening every morning as I spread the morning newspaper in front of me, cupped my mug of tea, and scanned the classifieds looking for a job, while also looking for a place to live.
My savings could only get me so far, so I didn’t have many options where rent was concerned, and even if my father would have been deliriously happy with me staying with him, I would be lying if I said things weren’t cramped.
I looked around my father’s tiny cabin, the main room making up the kitchen and living room. There was an “upper level,” but that was mainly just where his bed was, then a small bathroom down a short hall with a sink, toilet, and one-person shower stall.
When my father decided to move out of Cherry Falls’ city limits and off-grid, I hadn’t fully understood how “off-grid” he planned on going. The cabin itself was pretty isolated on three sides of his house, and his electricity came from a generator and his water from a cistern. And although I knew he was lonely in a sense, I could also see how much freedom he had and how he embraced that.
A part of him thrived with that. I knew that.
But still, this wasn’t the type of living I wanted, even if he’d had a spare room to offer.
I turned my attention back to the paper and scanned the classifieds. There wasn’t anything dance-related or anything that I could use my degree on, so my only option was entry-level work. But that was better than nothing at this point.
Once I had stable employment and was saving up money, I could look at the bigger picture, the longer path to fulfill my dreams.
I flipped to the sales and rentals in Cherry Falls. Over the last week, none had really stood out, nothing that I could afford, anyway. I was about to close the paper and then head into town, do a little storefront to storefront walk by to see about any jobs that may not have been made public in the paper, when I spotted a new classified ad for a room for rent.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but as I read the information, I was exceedingly excited. It almost seemed tailor made for me.
Room for Rent
Bedroom available with connected private bathroom in a 2000 sq. ft. ranch style house situated on five acres.
Room and board negotiable upon daily domestic duties.
I felt my eyebrows rise up my forehead. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, even if this sounded a little too good to be true. But it did seem like the ad could solve my most pressing issues. I could clean up and get my room and board covered, while working in town and saving almost all my earnings for my own place… my own business.
Two birds with one stone, and all that. But did I really want a roommate? If it allows me to save up for the bigger picture, and we’re not living on top of each other, what can it hurt to at least look at it, to consider it?
The sound of footsteps coming up the porch drew my attention away from the newspaper just as the front door opened. My father walked in carrying several grocery bags, and as he took me in sitting there at the table, his expression softened.
I knew he liked this—coming home and seeing me here, knowing that his place wasn’t empty. So a part of me felt guilty for trying to find an alternate place so soon. But I knew he’d understand. He’d have to.
“Any luck?” He closed the door and carried the bags into the small kitchenette and set them on the counter. The paper bags ruffled as he started pulling items out.
My father was pretty self-contained here at the cabin, with a vegetable garden and even some berry patches out back. But there was a little comfort I knew Dad held on to from when he lived in town.
And that was Oreos and a cup of ice-cold milk before bed every night. And as I saw him pull out two gallons of milk and two packages of Oreos, I couldn’t help but laugh softly.
He looked over his shoulder at me and grinned, the dimple in his cheek popping out, the same one that I sported as well. “Old habits and all that.” He chuckled again. “So?” he asked again and faced me, waiting for me to answer his question.
I looked back down at the paper and picked up my red pen, circling the ad even though I didn’t need to. I felt like it was some kind of rite of passage when you found a place, whether that be employment or someplace to live. It made me feel like I'd accomplished something, as silly as that sounded.
“Maybe. Hopefully?” I was still staring at the paper when I felt him move in beside me. He braced a hand on the table and leaned down, looking at what I’d circled. “But sounds too good to be true.”
“No address listed. Just a phone number?”
I shrugged. “Maybe they’re doing it for safety reasons,” I said softly and leaned back in my chair. “I’ll give them a call in a little while and see about getting more details, see if maybe there’s some hidden terms of service not on the ad.”
“Well, I do hope it works out, even if your old man would prefer you stay here for as long as you need.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “I know. But I have to stand on my own two feet, know what I mean?”
He nodded slowly, solemnly.” I know, even if I don’t like it. You’re stubborn like me.” He chuckled softly and ruffled my hair as if I were still a little girl and then moved back to the counter. “I got stuff to make your favorite.” He looked over his shoulder again and held up the box of oven-ready lasagna noodles and a pack of hamburger meat. “Lasagna?”
Although it was still morning, and dinner was the last thing on my mind, I gave him what I knew was a blinding smile and nodded.
“Absolutely.” And just like that, things didn’t seem so bad.