Dad comes back out and puts a brown-wrapped painting in the back of the car. “Ready to eat?”
I nod and smile. I glance back at the gallery as we pull away. So many memories were made there. I think back to all my summers working there, including the one when I met my best friend, Harley Richards. I’d helped Dad deliver paintings to her home. I saw some music posters, and we started talking about our favorite bands. And after that, we were best friends.
I watch the mountains and trees go by as we drive down the road toward PJ’s. I hadn’t spoken to Harley in a few days. I wonder how my super-rich, jet setting friend is. I’ll need to call her later. Dad jabbers away as he drives and continues his stories as we eat. By the time we finish, I’m beyond ready to go home.
Home. I haven’t been here in a while, and I have mixed feelings about it. The Poconos isn’t a bad place to live.
“Home sweet home,” Dad says as we pull up to the house. It looks just the same. Cedar planks stained a deep brown. Green front door. Modern lines. It practically blends into the surrounding woods. I look around and notice the wood has seen better days. I sigh. Dad didn’t get it sealed this year.
I grab my bag and head to the front door, pulling out my key and opening it. Our German Shepherd, Niko, comes bounding up to me.
“Hey, Niko!” I yelp as he leaps up into my arms, nearly knocking me over in the process. He’s licking my face and whining as I try to steady myself. “Whoa, boy. Calm down. I missed you, too.”
“He’s been lying by your door all day,” dad states as he walks into the house with my other bag.
“Is that so?” I say to Niko as I plant a kiss on his nose. It takes him a good two minutes to calm down.
I make my way to my room and set my bag down next to the one my dad just put there. I look around my room. It’s like stepping back in time. My old awards from choir hang on the wall. Old trinkets that I didn’t take with me sit on my shelf along with childhood books. Photos of friends and me. Tyson and me. I pick up a photo of us. We were so happy. This was right before a skiing competition. He came in first place on the moguls. I place the photo back down on my dresser. I don’t know why I kept it here. He broke my heart and never looked back.
“You want to watch a movie?” Dad calls out from somewhere in the house.
“Sure, let me get my stuff put away, and I’ll be right there.”
I look around as I begin to unzip my bags and remove the small number of belongings I brought with me. I shipped a few boxes of little things home, and I see they are sitting in the corner of my room. It’s pretty pathetic how little I’ve accumulated since I’ve been LA. I pull out my clothes and realize my shampoo leaked all over them.
Fabulous.
Groaning, I grab them and head to the laundry room. At least they are useless warm weather clothes. I won’t need them again for a few more months. I toss them into the washer and turn it on, leaning against the window frame.
The window frame gives slightly under my touch. I frown and lean down to examine it. That’s when I see them. Termites.
God darn it! Dad needs to pay more attention to this stuff.
“Dad!” I yell.
He comes running into the room, looking around as if we’ve been invaded.
“What’s wrong?”
I point to the windowsill.
He squints and leans in and sighs.
“Damn. I’ll call the termite guy.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“Hank? Hey, it’s Jim. I think I got a termite issue over here. Yep. Uh-huh. Great. See you soon.”
He hangs up and looks back at the window and then to me.
“Guess I have been a little busy lately,” he says with a shrug.
“Dad,” I groan. “You need to take care of the house. When was the last time you had it sealed?”
He frowns, and I roll my eyes. “Seriously?”
“You’re right. I’ve missed you, kiddo.” He pulls me into a bear hug, and I hug him back.
Two
Brittany
“Well, we’re gonna have to tent it,” Hank says as he scratches the back of his head and looks around.
“Tent?” my father asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah, we have these tents that go over the house, and we release the fumigant inside. Jim, I’m not gonna sugarcoat this. It’s a pretty bad case of termites. You probably want to get John over here to replace any structural supports that might have been compromised around the foundation.”
My dad leans against the wall of the kitchen and stares at his old high school friend. “How long?”
“The tent will be about a week. No idea how long John will need, but my guess is another week or so.”
“Shit,” my dad curses.
“Hold on,” I mutter as I grab my phone and dial the only person that I’ve kept in touch with regularly since I left for LA. I walk out of the room as the phone rings.
“A phone call? To what do I owe the honor?” Harley’s voice answers.
“Hey, Har. I just got back from the airport, and my dad’s place has termites. You think your dad would hook us up with a cabin?”
“Termites?” she squeaks.
“Yep,” I reply as I sit down on the front step of our porch.
“Wow, that sucks. Uh, hold on, let me call Wyatt.”
“OK.” I hang up and stare at my phone.
“Brit?” Dad’s voice calls out from inside.
“Hold on.”
My phone buzzes.
Harley: All set. Find Wyatt when you get there.
“Dad, Wyatt’s got a cabin for us,” I yell.
“Oh? That’s great news. We can bring Niko, right?”
I roll my eyes. I want to make a sarcastic comment about my bestie’s dad owning the place, but I decide to keep my thoughts to myself. No reason to get in a fight with Dad after being home for five seconds.
I go inside and start placing everything back in my bags. Hank gives us some directions to prep the house, and we spend the rest of the day getting everything ready before we pack up our car and head over to the resort.
It only takes about fifteen minutes to get there. The Holiday Springs looks the same as the last time I came here, except for all the holiday decorations which gives it a very cozy and festive vibe. Harley had required we have a girls’ weekend before I left for LA. The cabins are rustic looking but with modern conveniences. Her dad had taken over the resort from his aunt and uncle. I was a little shocked that Christopher Richards didn’t knock it all down to build some sort of lavish condo complex. He’s one of the most well-known developers in our area, which means that the Richardses are loaded.
As the mountain comes into view, my mind drifts to my ex, Tyson Mitchell. He was my everything. He was almost sixteen when we met. Well, actually met. Like Harley, I’d been around him my whole life, we just hadn’t officially hung out together. He was already training for the Olympic trials. A million memories flash through my mind like an old movie reel. Ty and I playing in the snow. Ty and I making out under the ski lift. My first kiss over on the bunny slope. I wonder where he is now. Last I heard, he was at his parents’ house in Florida after his accident. I had wanted to text him a million times to see how he was, but every time I typed something, I couldn’t bring myself to send it. I couldn’t open the Pandora’s box of emotions that came with the possibility of reconnecting with him, of finding out he had moved on, and worse, finding out he no longer loved me. My thoughts fade as Dad stops the car in front of the main lodge.