Remote Desire

The rain is pouring hard outside for some minutes now. The wind is howling, and the tree branches are swaying furiously. Clearly, the storm has already started to beat the Wisconsin state. This will likely take a few days before we’ll see the sun again.

I turn on the stove and put the kettle on to make some tea. Good that my eighteen-year-old niece Lori has already left a few hours ago, this afternoon. She goes home to our farmhouse to take care of the animals. The farmhouse is about three hours away from this remote lodge, which we rent out. It is originally where my sister’s family lived. But since they’ve been killed in a plane crash five years ago, I have taken in my niece to live with me at the farmhouse, and we have the lodge rented out instead. Either of us wouldn’t want to part with it, thus the decision.

And since there have been no one renting the lodge for some weeks now, I have decided we clean it up in case someone loses his or her way or gets stranded while going to the north or something. We have been quite busy at the farm, so we are guilty of neglecting the place for some weeks.

I look around the kitchen. It is the favorite place of my sister who loved cooking. I can still remember her making a fuss, especially whenever I am here to visit her family. Well, good times, they were. Good times seem to be just in the past now.

A car engine suddenly steals my attention. It just stops right in front of the lodging house. I wonder if it is my niece who changed her mind and comes to pick me up. But it is not her. It is a sleek and powerful car by the looks of it. Looks like I have a rich prospect in this kind of weather. I see the vehicle from the lone solar-paneled street lamp that is just in front of the lodging house with the glaring Lori’s Lodge sign sticking to it.

This is not so bad for a stormy time.

I chuckle. I turn the porch light on. I am right. The car really is a beauty. It has a beautiful blue color.

‘The color of royalty,’ I muse.

A man in a thick coat steps out without minding to get an umbrella or a hat. He runs the two-meter distance from the two-step stairs, and he is now standing in front of my open door.

“Hi! Do you still have room for me?” he asks right away.

I open the door wider to let him come in. “Sure!”

He is white, tall and lean. He seems to be in his mid-thirties. His face is not truly gorgeous or good-looking, contrary to my expectation as the owner of the car. He has light brown eyes, thick eyebrows, long and flaring nose, as well as hard-lined lips. He sort of has an air of command about him though. And this makes him attractive and very masculine, if I must say.

He takes off his coat and hangs it on the hook by the door. I close it.

His eyes rove around the lodging house. It has a second story, where the rooms and one bathroom are. The ground floor, on the other hand, has the kitchen, another bathroom, dining area and living room with long and single couches of cream color.

I take pride of the cleanliness of it now. Great timing indeed!

My niece and I have practically cleaned the entire lodge since yesterday. I am left here to check further if there should be some repairs needed in the plumbing or heater, especially that winter is coming.

“So, how many are we?” he asks conversationally.

“Just the two of us.”

With my response, something lights up in his eyes. “You’re Lori?”

“No. That’s my niece’s name. This lodge belongs to her. I’m Cathy. Cathy Adams.” I extend my hand to him in a civilized manner.

He takes it to clasp it a bit harder than he should. But it doesn’t hurt. Just that I feel something in his touch.

He then smiles bizarrely. “Barett Smith.”

I almost jump up when I heard the kettle blow. That’s when he lets go of my hand. It seems that he has no intention of letting it go for some more moments if it wasn’t for the kettle.

“I’m making tea. Would you like a cup?” I politely offer.

“Yes, of course. Thanks.”

He follows me into the kitchen. I pour the tea into the two cups that I have taken from the overhead cupboards. I place one in front of him when he is seated at the table, and I enjoy mine while I stand leaning against the sink counter.

“So, how long are you gonna stay?” I query.

“I’m not sure. A couple of trees are already uprooted ahead, so I can’t turn around or get around them. Good that I spotted this place earlier. I’m supposed to go back to Illinois.”

“That’s a very long drive,” I comment.

“I fancied a drive to do some business. But it is so unfortunate for me to get caught and stranded in this storm now, huh?”

I smile. “Fortunate for me… and my niece, that is.” I clear my throat.

I catch his meaningful smile before he takes a sip of his tea, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Business,” I quickly add, face heating up.

I showed him to his room thirty minutes later. I informed him the daily price together with the meals, since he is going to stay indefinitely. If it is monthly basis, it will be different altogether. Besides, I am here and there should be some service fee, as well.

I explain to him that my last renter had stayed in the lodge for about half a year to write his biography.

“And you stayed with him?”