Page 95 of Secrets and S'mores

“Bye, Rory, I love you!” Hazel smooches the phone and hangs up.

The noises of angry roommates press in on me, and I’d give anything to transport myself through the phone to my sister. She’s the smart one.

A text vibrates and her address pops up in a bubble on my splintered screen. Curiosity prickles under my skin, and I hold down on the text until it copies. Two seconds later, google map pulls up satellite images for her home. Zooming in on the forest, there are a few trailers, a couple of larger buildings, and a smattering of cabins. The map won’t load much detail, but I count at least nine cabins. One of them must be Hazel’s.

Picturing my sister among those trees, my sense of longing intensifies until I have to press a hand to my chest. Geez, what’s wrong with me? I’ve loved living in Los Angeles since I was eighteen and starting art school. But something has been whispering in the back of my head for a while. I’m not thriving. Exhaustion drags me down and my art is dry and stiff. I need a vacation.

Instead of sending art, maybe I should visit her. It’ll have to be soon or I’ll miss the baby being born. I can hold my niece or nephew, catch up with my sister, get a break from these crazy roommates, and spend time painting in nature. My new collection will be a hit, full of life and that special je ne sais quoi lacking in my recent work. Plus a few hugs from my sister would go a long way toward recharging my soul.

Decision made, I text the manager at the hotel asking for time off. They’ve been over-staffed and everyone is fighting for hours, so it’s not a problem. Next, I map out the route and find a cheap motel at the halfway point. No reason I can’t leave tomorrow!

Feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time, I change my music to nature sounds and curl up in my bed. My dreams are full of pine trees and dramatic possums dressed like firemen and construction workers.