Cabin Fever(18)
She doesn’t even look up. “You’ll find most of it over there.” She lifts a finger and waves it to her left. “All the meat’s frozen back in that last cooler on the right.”
“Okay, thanks.” Great. Frozen meat. As if my life isn’t frozen enough as it is. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosey, right?
I glance out the door and don’t see the dog, so I hurry as fast as I can to get my things into my little hand basket that I find at the end of one of the aisles, before he has a chance to wander off. Hopefully that beef jerky will keep him occupied for a few minutes or at least make him curious enough to see what else I might have for him. It sure kept me occupied. I started chewing on it in Manhattan, and I still had some of it in my mouth when I started heading up the first of the foothills.
It takes two hands to lift my groceries up to the counter when I’m done.
“You renting a cabin around here?” the girl asks, sliding her magazine over to make room.
“Yes, kind of.”
She glances up at me with a weird look in her eye so I rush to amend my response.
“I’m staying at a friend’s place for free, actually. So I’m not renting it technically, but I’m not a squatter.”
“Gotcha,” she says, using a gun-thing to beep all the prices. “Hope you’ve got a lot of wood.”
Wood. Snow. Holy crap, I’m going to freeze. Why was wood not on the top of my list?!
“Actually, I have none,” I admit. “Do you know where I can buy some?”
She points with her gun at the door. “Got some out front there. You can buy a bundle or two. It’s seasoned pretty good. But if you’re going to be here for the winter, I suggest you get a cord or two delivered, ‘cuz those won’t last more than a day.”
“The wood people deliver?” I’m thrilled to the bone, imagining myself wearing only a single layer of clothing when I paint. It’s amazing how excited I can get over something I never before would have thought that much about. Warmth! It will be mine tonight!
“Sure do. But you need to call ‘em right away, cuz they’re lazy. You don’t reach ‘em before noon, they’ll be too drunk to drive. Not that it stops ‘em much, but they don’t like working after noon, know what I’m saying?”
I laugh, but then stop when I realize she’s not joking.
“Do you have their number? And maybe I could use your phone? I have almost no cell signal up here.”
“No one does. We’re still in the dark ages. You can use the phone over there.” She points to the other part of her counter. “Phone number’s on the bulletin board right next to it. Ben Carver, wood delivery. Ironic, huh? Carver.” She snorts.
“Thanks.” As she finishes tallying my bill, I move over to the phone and pick it up off the cradle. It’s an old-school model with an actual rotary dial thingy. It would be totally charming if it weren’t so dirty. I’m afraid to put the handset too close to my face, so I let it hang in the air next to my ear.
The wood-man answers with a gruff voice on the fourth ring, just as I was about to give up. “Ben here.” I can literally picture him sitting on a bar stool somewhere, a cigarette in his free hand, and a twenty-year-old baseball cap on his head.
“Hello, Ben, this is Sarah Booker. I’m new in town and I need a cord of wood delivered. Right now I’m at the mini-mart, and the girl here said you deliver wood.”
“That’ll be two hundred bucks, delivery included.”
I’ve never bought a cord of wood in my life, being a central heating kind of gal in the past. He could have told me it would be five hundred bucks and I wouldn’t have argued. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Where do you live?”
“I live …” I have to think about that for a second. Do I know the address? I just followed directions that included a lot of landmarks. “Umm, on Squirrel’s Heath Road? Near the top?”
“You asking me or telling me?”
His question catches me off guard. “What?”
“You’re saying it like you don’t really know. I’ve got four-wheel drive and all, but I don’t want to be drivin’ all over hell and back trying to find your place. So is it up on Squirrel’s Heath or not?”
“Yes.” Hopefully I’m not sending him on a wild goose chase. I do remember that name featuring prominently on the map. “It’s the Oliver family cabin? Do you know them?”