Chapter 6 Fixing the Cabin?
1060 Words
Abby's POV
"Abby, rise and shine! It's shopping time!" My mom's voice sliced through my dreams like a knife, dragging me into consciousness.
Being off the grid, she rarely got to shop, but when the occasion arose, she seized it with both hands and an unnecessary level of enthusiasm. I groaned, stretching out in my wolf form before shifting back.
"Mom, how can you be excited about shopping for lumber and roofing supplies?"
She giggled. "We need a new bedroom set, a living room upgrade, and let's not forget groceries. Oh! And—" she continued, rattling off a list longer than my patience.
I rubbed my face. "Mom, you do realize we’re supposed to be lying low? Are you sure furniture shopping is a necessity?"
She gasped, placing a dramatic hand over her chest. "Well, excuse me, young lady! But if anyone happens to come by and sees the house looking like a disaster zone, won’t that raise more questions than us just casually buying new furniture?"
I yawned. "Your logic sometimes, Mom, truly boggles me."
I never questioned where my parents got their money. Over the years, I'd watched them open and empty bank accounts like it was a competitive sport. With online banking and cash stashes hidden in strategic places, they always had funds. It was just one of those things I grew up accepting.
As the scent of coffee wafted through the air, I practically sprinted toward the percolator on the fireplace. The moment the bitter liquid hit my tongue, I gagged.
Dad smirked over his cup. "Coffee went stale."
I coughed. "Thanks, Captain Obvious. A little warning would’ve been nice!"
"So, how's the truck looking after sitting in the shed?" I asked, still recovering from the coffee fiasco.
Dad sighed. "About as good as the coffee."
Mom clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. "Ooooh! That means we need a new one!"
Dad looked like I just kicked his favorite puppy. "Yes, Mia, we need a new one. But please, let’s keep a low profile. I’ll find a truck while you two handle the supplies. Have them delivered to the usual drop-off spot so no one actually comes up here."
Mom pouted. "Duane, you know I’ve done this before."
"Yeah, and my back still hasn’t recovered from moving everything after your last ‘low profile’ shopping spree," Dad shot back.
I groaned. "Okay, you two, I need coffee and this day to be over. Let’s just get this done."
Dad swiped through his phone. "I’ve got three meetings lined up to check out a few trucks nearby. Don't be surprised if I pick you up in town."
Mom wrinkled her nose. "I hope they’re not too old. I hate those embarrassing junkers you think are ‘just fine.’ We’re supposed to blend in, not drive something that makes people stare."
Dad smirked. "Fine. I’ll cancel the jalopy and focus on the other two."
Mom narrowed her eyes. "Oh, and NO FORDS, Duane! You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in one!"
"I already crossed the Ford jalopy off the list," he teased.
She gasped. "That’s not even funny—"
"MOM. Let’s GO!" I interrupted, steering us back to the task at hand.
Mom froze mid-sentence, her head slightly c****d like she was listening to something just out of reach.
Dad and I immediately switched to high alert. "Mia?" Dad asked cautiously.
She blinked, shaking her head. "I swear I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, but there’s nothing there."
Dad and I exchanged a look before scanning the area. Mom watched for movement, Dad sniffed for scents, and I checked for tracks. Nothing.
Dad shrugged. "Could’ve been an animal."
Mom hesitated before exhaling. "I’m probably just being paranoid. Let’s get to town."
The walk to town was about three miles. We wore jogging clothes so we could run there, keeping a steady but unhurried pace. The town of Evergreen had a population of 1,200, not counting the large off-grid community in the mountains. It had the basics—two gas stations, two restaurants, a hardware store, a supermarket, a furniture store, and a ranch supply shop. Everything else required a 25-mile drive to Elkhorn. Since locals hated long trips, Evergreen stores stayed fully stocked. It was a cozy community where everyone knew everyone, and new arrivals were welcomed with open arms—so long as they followed the unspoken rule: "locals buy local."
A car horn honked behind us. Mom turned, waving as Mr. and Mrs. Carter pulled up.
Mrs. Carter rolled down the window. "Oh my goodness! Mia, Abby! It’s been, what, five years?!"
Mom beamed. "Oh, we’ve been traveling, just seeing the sights!"
Mr. Carter frowned. "We went by your place after that bad winter a year or two ago. Y’all aren’t staying there, are you? We’ve got extra rooms if you need ‘em, and I can help fix that roof of yours."
Mom waved him off a little too quickly. "Oh, no need! It looks worse than it is. We already patched it up, just finishing the last touches today."
Mr. and Mrs. Carter exchanged a glance. Note to self: Mom cracks under pressure.
"Well, it’s great seeing you two!" Mrs. Carter said cheerfully. "Abby, you’ve grown so much! How old are you now?"
"Turning twenty this year," I answered, subtly pressing my fingers to my pulse and jogging in place to keep my heart rate up. "Mom, if you want to lose that extra ten pounds you found over the holidays, we better pick up the pace."
Mom huffed. "Fine, Abby."
She turned back to the Carters. "We’ll see you around! Gotta run—literally!" She giggled.
Mrs. Carter laughed. "Beauty knows no pain, Mia!"
As the window rolled up and the Carters drove off, Mom shot me a look. "Nice save."
"Mom, I really thought you would’ve planned ahead before running into people who literally know our entire life story. The official version is: we’ve been back for a little over a week, brought supplies with us, the cabin is almost done, and we’re just stocking up."
She sighed dreamily. "Why do I even need to think of a story when my amazing daughter always has the perfect one?"
I grinned. "Because otherwise, you’d still be explaining why our roof isn’t a total death trap."
- Writer
