My First Time

A Writer's Cabin: Part 2

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A Writer's Cabin: Part 2.
A permanent change of location, and state of mind.

Based on a post by PickFiction.

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Stories.



I opened the door and stepped inside, announced by a

jingling bell.

"Dale, good morning," Brooke said, standing and

extending her hand.

Clad in tight black slacks, a red blouse, her dark hair held

in place by a large gold clasp, and shoes with moderate heels, I was reminded
that she was an attractive lady. And that didn't include the unforgettable pale
blue eyes.

"Good to see you, Brooke. I'm ready to sign

whatever."

"I have the papers ready." She spread some papers

across her desk.

"And I'm ready to pay, also."

"You won't have to do that until the closing."

I handed her the check.

"Dale, this is for $225,000."

"That should cover everything, shouldn't it?"

"I'm sure, but you should pay at closing."

"I'd rather just give it to you, and it will be here

when it's needed."

"Dale, I can't take it. I mean."

"Brooke," I interrupted, "if I can trust you

to drive my Porsche, I can trust you with my $225,000."

For five seconds, she just looked at me, then the laughter

began, and she had to sit down. At last, she took a deep breath and looked at
me again.

"Where did you come from?" she asked. 'And don't

you dare say, New York."

"All I can say is that visiting here and meeting the

people, particularly you, is so much different than New York; that it's
changing my behavior."

"It's probably illegal or unethical, but drive me to

the bank so I can deposit it. We'll sign when we get back."

We did exactly that: the teller at the bank calling for her

manager. I suggested they contact the bank in New York for verification. While
the manager took care of that, Brooke and the teller chatted. I watched the
teller lean forward and whisper to Brooke, who then looked at me.

I stepped toward them. "Autographed copies if you don't

tell anyone."

"Really? Okay, I won't."

Her nameplate told me she was Sally, and I'd try to remember

that.

"All confirmed," the manager said, "Go ahead

and process it, Sally."

"Largest check I've ever processed," Sally said,

and we headed back to the office.

"Maybe you can drive this thing after we do the

signing."

"I think I have things to do, Dale," she answered

with a chuckle.

"I've got some book signing to take care of."

"Listen, I nearly forgot. The man who's selling the

cabin has moved to Oregon and told me that if I felt sure of the sale, the
buyer could move right in."

"Oh my gosh, I'm ready." I began to plan as she

drove. I'd leave the car here, fly to New York, rent a truck, and drive back to
the cabin. I'd need some help. I wondered.

"You're quiet."

"Thinking, and I need help."

"Go on."

"Are there Ubers out here?"

"Not unless they come from the city. Where do you need

to go?"

"The airport; so I can fly to New York, rent a truck,

and drive my things back here."

"And take the truck to the city to return it."

I nodded.

"Dale, you know I'd be more than happy to take care of

that."

What a beautiful smile accompanied her offer.

"Eyes on the road, please, and you're way too

kind." I assured her.

"Well, you're a very interesting man, and I'm enjoying

being around you."

"Wow, and very honestly, I'm enjoying being around you

as well. I'm learning things that are very foreign to me and will become a part
of my writing; and my life." We'd pulled into the small lot, and there was
that smile again with the sparkling pale blue eyes. Brooke was a very
attractive lady.

"Before I sign anything, let's go for a drive."

"Dale, that frightens me. I don't know."

If you ruin the car, I'll buy a new one and we'll try

again."

That certainly widened her eyes. "I'm not sure I

totally understand you, Dale."

"No problem. Perhaps I enjoy being a little

mysterious."

"Well, you certainly have surprised me a few

times." She admitted.

"Come on. You can just drive the car a couple of blocks

as a starter."

Obviously reluctant, she followed me to the Porsche and

climbed into the driver s seat.

"I m so close to the ground," she said with a

giggle.

I showed her how to adjust the seat and the mirrors.

"I'm only going a couple of blocks. We don't need to

change everything."

I discovered she had driven a standard shift when she'd

first learned to drive at sixteen. It was a pickup truck with a column shift
lever, but at least she'd used a clutch before. As we pulled away from the parking
spot and she pressed on the accelerator, we shot forward, then slammed to a
stop.

"Dale," she pleaded.

"I'm not going to learn to play the piano after one

lesson, rebutted her implied argument. and you'll need to learn about the
Porsche as well. Just keep going."

We completed the two-block circuit, and I don't think I've

ever seen such a relieved look on a face.

"I'd say that was a good job. Now, let s go sign some

papers."

She smiled, and I could tell that, in her own way, she had

enjoyed driving the Porsche, possibly just from the sense of accomplishment.

I signed everything, thanked Brooke again for all her help,

and then returned to the motel to make lots of arrangements. When they were
taken care of, I made another call.

"Well, it's about time you called." Katherine s

New York rudeness now was even more obvious when I was in rural Ohio.

"You could have called me." I matched her

pushiness.

"I was being polite and not disturbing what you're

doing wherever you are." She congratulated her own virtue.

"You're a saint, Katherine, an absolute saint. Did you

get the two chapters taken care of?"

"I did. Your editor loved them and only changed a

couple of words. How have you beguiled her to go along with whatever you
write?"

I used Marie Laveau, the voodoo queen from Louisiana."

"I thought she was long dead. Katherine bantered back

at me.

"Obviously not, if she's working for me."

"So, why did you call?"

"Just to let you know that I will be in town tomorrow

to rent a truck and use it the following day as a receptacle for my New York
life, which will be transported to Ohio to my new residence."

"So, you're really doing that?"

"It's done. I've purchased a place, and will send you

the new address."

"How can you stand that, after living in New

York?"

"How could I have stood New York, knowing what I know

now."

"Maybe Marie Laveau has cast a spell on you." The

witty agent didn t miss a beat.

I almost said, not Marie, but Brooke, but held my tongue.

"Of course, I wish you good luck and hope this doesn't

disrupt your writing."

"On the contrary, I think it will help my

writing."

"Send me the address."

We signed off, and I called Brooke.

"What's the latest?"

"My plane leaves at ten, so I'd like to be there by

eight-thirty. What time should I be ready?"

"I'll pick you up at seven-forty-five."

"You're a jewel, Brooke."

"You're very sweet. See you in the morning." She

said, then hung up.

As expected, Brooke was there right on time, and the trip to

the airport was straightforward and uneventful. She cautioned me several times
to drive carefully on the way back since my Porsche and the truck I'd be
renting had absolutely nothing in common. I assured her that I would.

At the airport, she got out of the car and walked around to

where I was standing. She extended her arms, and I stepped into them and
received a warm and very enjoyable squeeze.

"Hurry back, Mister," she said.

"I checked, and the driving time from New York to here

is about eight and a half hours. With stops, probably over nine hours. I plan
to have everything ready when I pick up the truck, so hopefully, I'll get
started home by ten in the morning. That should get me home at seven or eight."

"Here's the key to the cabin. Give me a call when you

want to turn in the truck, and I'll follow you there."

"Brooke, you don't have to do all that." I was beginning

to feel guilty about all that she was doing.

"Brooke Rowe Real Estate provides full service,"

she said with a chuckle. "Now, one more hug, and get on your way."

We hugged again, and I thanked her for everything. I was

traveling light, no bag; and checking in and boarding was simple.

The flight was an hour long, and I called an Uber to take me

to my apartment. The boxes I'd ordered had been delivered to the lobby of the
building, and I carried them upstairs, put them together, and packed them. I wasn't
a clothing hog, so that part was simple. The pictures and knick-knacks were
easy as well, and soon, everything was ready. I checked with the truck rental,
and they were ready for me.

I decided to head to Zǐh o's for dinner and a farewell.

"Mr. Dale. Have not seen you for a while."

"I know, Zǐh o. I've been in Ohio."

"Oh, far out west."

"It's a ways, but I'm moving there."

"Moving? No more eating at Zǐh o's?" He said

with a sober face.

"I'm afraid not. And I'll miss it for sure."

"Tonight, my treat. Order what you want." He said

with resolute duty.

"Shrimp fried rice will be perfect. I love it."

The fried rice was perfect, and I knew I'd miss it in Ohio.

The food at the diner in Caraway was very different but equally good. I
wondered if I'd miss the variety that I was used to in New York. Time would
tell.

We bid each other farewell, and I promised Zǐh o that

I'd be sure to come to see him when I was in New York in the future.

Picking up the truck went much as I'd learned to expect

things in New York to go.

"What do you mean you can't find my reservation? I

called yesterday to check, and they said everything was in order."

"Ain't my problem, Mister. There ain't a reservation

here for Dale Scholtz."

"You've got to have it. Check again."

He checked with the same result.

 

 

"I checked yesterday. D a l e S c h u l t z:"

"Wait. I thought you said your name was

S-c-h-o-l-t-z."

"I think that may have been what you thought you heard,

but that's incorrect."

He glared at me but checked again.

"Yeah, here it is." He slapped a paper down on the

counter. "Sign here, here, and here." The pen was slapped down
equally hard.

"Take this out to the booth. They'll show you the

truck." He stomped back to his desk.

I received a few instructions at the booth, drove to the

apartment, and loaded the truck. It was a small truck, like an SUV, so it
wasn't quite like driving a forty-foot truck. I maneuvered my way out of New
York fairly quickly, letting the built-in GPS guide me. Soon, I was on the road
and headed to Ohio.

I'd been driving for nearly an hour when I realized I was

wishing that Brooke was sitting next to me and talking with me as I drove. That
was certainly something new. She seemed really nice and willing to help me get
established. I'd even commented on it before I left, and she indicated she was
perfectly happy doing it. How happy was she?

And then there'd been the hugs yesterday. Two of them. I

smiled as I realized how much I'd enjoyed those hugs. Was something about me
changing? I'd gone twenty-seven years without women cluttering my life, but
this one seemed different. Was it just the Caraway difference I'd been experiencing,
or was there more?

She was enjoyable to look at with those fascinating blue

eyes contrasting with her very dark hair and slightly dark complexion. She'd
never really said anything that indicated that she liked me or wanted to be
with me, except that she was often with me. Uh.

What would I do when I was back in Ohio? Maybe just wait

for her to be more definite? If I was writing this as a story, how would I do
it? I wrote about romance, so why didn't I know more about real life? Maybe it
was because I controlled the writing, and I wasn't sure I was in control now.

I arrived at the cabin at about eight, as expected, and was

inside the after unloading the first box when I received a text.

Are you at the cabin yet?

Just got here and beginning to unload.

Would you like some help?

What did that mean? Did she really want to help? Was it just

Brooke Rowe Real Estate completing their full service? I stopped and took a
deep breath.

Dale, I asked myself. Are you overanalyzing? Would you

like to have Brooke here?

Answer, "Yes, I would. If it's not an inconvenience

for you, I'd love to have some help.

Good. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.

More analysis. She'd said, "Good." That seemed to

mean that she was happy that I needed some help. A subtle hint, perhaps, but I
was going to take it at face value and see what developed. In fact, I stopped
unloading, leaving more for us to do together when she arrived.

Brooke swept through the front door with a big smile.

"That's not a very big truck, not at all what I was picturing."

"I didn't move any furniture, just clothing, books, and

miscellaneous stuff. But it all needs to be unloaded."

"Let's get going then."

It wasn't difficult with me taking the heavier boxes and

Brooke the lighter ones. By nine-thirty, we were finished.

Thank you so much, Brooke. I appreciate the help, and I

appreciate you."

Her eyes jerked to mine. "Well, I enjoy being with you

too. Are you planning to sleep here tonight? We need to make a bed if you
are."

"Well, I don't want to sleep here until I'm completely

moved, and as long as I have the truck, it isn't complete. Tomorrow, I'll have
the grand moving in, even though, officially, I don't own it yet."

"That will be nice." There was a definite

questioning look on her face.

"Lots of things need to be done, and I could use more

help deciding where to hang things, what things to add, and what furniture to
replace."

"The lady that owns the furniture store in town is a

pretty good decorator, too. She could probably help you."

I smiled. "I think I'd rather have Brooke Rowe Real

Estate complete their full service by helping me."

A wonderful smile shone on Brooke's face. "Good. She'd

love to do it." Brooke confirmed in 3rd person.

"What's open where we can get something to eat?" I

was hungry.

"Not much, except Brooke Rowe Real Estate's

full-service kitchen."

I shook my head. "Brooke, that's too much."

She looked sad. "Are you rejecting Brooke's offer to

feed you?"

I realized I couldn't reject any offer from Brooke.

"Never," I replied, "but I owe you big time."

"I'll have to come up with a way for you to pay this off,

then." That comment came with a different kind of smile to her face.

I followed the Cadillac to a pleasant one-story house on the

very edge of town. She pulled into the garage, and I parked on the driveway.

"I hope you like cheese," Brooke said as she

prepared the grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Are you putting three kinds of cheese on each

sandwich?"

"Sure. Isn't that the way you're supposed to do

it," she added with a giggle.

"You're the expert," I said, anticipating what

this might be like.

"And I'm using cinnamon butter on the bread, too."

"Brooke, where'd you learn this stuff?"

"I like to experiment."

I enjoy good food, and I wanted to know what other

experiments she might have on hand.

"Here ya go. Lemme know."

I waited a few seconds to let it cool, having burned my

mouth more than once on hot cheese. I loved her anticipatory look.

I took the first bite. "Oh my gosh, what a surprise.

I've never had a grilled cheese like this before, and anytime you're serving,
I'll be here to eat them."

"Really?"

"If you let me know, I promise to come and praise your

culinary expertise."

"Aw, you're sweet. I have other recipes you might

like."

"Could you prepare them at the cabin? I can picture us

sitting on the screened-in porch eating a delicious and unique dinner."

"Me, too, Dale. I'd love to do that." Her flirting

was as overt as my own.

"Just send me a list of what you need, and I'll have it

ready for you."

She nodded. "Okay."

We finished the sandwiches and set nine in the morning for

her to meet me at the motel and follow me to where I'd be turning in the truck.
I locked up and we headed off, me to the motel and Brooke to her house.

I climbed into bed smiling. The sandwich had been excellent,

and Brooke inviting me to her house even better. I'd found it difficult to
leave her, and I sensed she was feeling the same. I was a sensitive writer, or
so I'd been called by the critics, and I should be able to understand people.
When I looked myself straight in the eye, I realized that I had been fully
understanding Brooke but refusing to accept it. Tomorrow, maybe I could
straighten things out.

I was sitting in the truck, waved to her when she arrived

and headed to the address I'd been given. It was accurate, and the turning-in
process was much more straightforward than the picking-up process had been.
Just the difference between New York and Caraway I guessed.

I climbed into the Cadillac. "Thanks again for being so

helpful."

"You don't need to keep saying that, Dale. I know

you're thankful, and by now, we're good friends and do things for each
other."

"I don't know. It'll be difficult, but I'll try. I m

not use to kindness, living in New York. I just want to let you know how much
it means to me.

"Do you have lots of ideas for decorating the

cottage?"

"Not really. I'm going to have you decorate it just the

way you'd like to have it."

"But you might not like some of the things I'd do."

"I doubt it."

"Dale, are you sure? I don't want to spend money on

something you won't like."

"Well, if you decorate it just the way you like, then

you won't have to change anything when it's yours and my cabin."

She hit the brakes hard and pulled onto the berm.

"What did you just say?"

"What did you just hear?"

"What I've been wanting to hear for several days."

"I think you heard correctly, then."

"Are you saying ...?"

"I'm saying that I missed you more than I'd imagined I

could while I was away for only two days. I wanted you in the seat beside me
while I drove. I pictured that over and over."

"I missed you so much and prayed over and over that

you'd be safe."

I took hold of her hand and pulled her toward me. "I

missed those blue eyes looking at me."

"Kiss me."

I did, and she kissed me back. I was amazed at the feelings

that were racing through my body.

"I've been so afraid."

"Of what? Surely not of me?" I asked, surprised at

what she'd said.

"Of myself and the way I was feeling about you."

"But we've gotten along so well."

"I know, but you're a famous author from New York, and

I'm just a small-town real estate agent.

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