I think about making a list of complaints to the frail man who rented this cabin to me. I have about seven repairs in mind before my water begins to boil and fill the cabin with a dense cloud of steam. The temperature inside must be colder than I thought. Thank God my robe is still relatively dry. I sit down in the easy chair and try to warm myself up with hot chamomile. It burns my tongue but I reserve my complaints because there is no one else here to vent them too. I decide that old man Johnson shouldn't be bothered with the flaws of this cabin. After all, his wife had recently passed away and it is Christmas Eve. This makes the first Christmas Eve I've been completely secluded from anyone, my family, my close friends, distant friends, and there is certainly no boyfriend to mention. My only concern for the next three months is to crank out my first full length novel. The short stories and infrequent magazine features have just barely kept me from having to find a real job. I'm. Holy fucking hell broke out, that poor magazine torn to shreds and tossed across our small foyer so that Danny could pick it up scrap by scrap when he got home from school.And I hadn't acted much better, had I?Without any real thought, I stopped in my tracks and started back upstairs, a soft knock to announce my entrance."Sorry," he said immediately.I didn't say a word, but rather went over to the nightstand and took out the magazine, Ryan instantly averting his eyes, absolutely chagrined, ready for another outburst.I stepped up to the bed and looked at the young cover-girl again ... she was legitimately pretty. I put the magazine atop his chest as gently as I could."Don't try to get it on your own again, okay. Just ask me when you want it ... I don't want you doing trapeze tricks on the floor."I let out a chuckle, or more aptly, forced one to the surface. Ryan was blushing, not touching the mag, a flash of surprise on his youthfully handsome face, maybe even a glimmer of awe. I.
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