The Cabin

by Alice Ward

  “Do you need anything?” I asked nervously. “Sprite maybe? Or some crackers?”

  “I just want to sleep,” Paisley whispered. I sighed, wishing there was more I could do.

  When we reached my motorcycle, I cursed myself again for not bringing the car. I shifted Paisley in my arms so that she faced me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her head in my shoulder. I froze for a minute, not wanting the moment to end. It was the first time that Paisley acted like I was her dad. She held onto me tightly, as if my presence was a comfort to her. I squeezed her gently, not wanting to upset her stomach, before I climbed on the bike with Paisley still in my arms.

  “Hold on tight, okay?” I said. “I’m sorry I don’t have the car, but we’ll be home soon. I promise.”

  Paisley nodded and tightened her grip on my neck. I revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot. I was on edge the entire ride home, looking around me every second to make sure no danger could befall us. When we finally pulled into the driveway, I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly carried Paisley inside.

  “Here,” I said as I laid her down on her bed. “Let’s get you out of that wet swimsuit.”

  “I can do it,” Paisley groaned. I nodded and handed her a t-shirt. She sat up just long enough to slide her bathing suit off and throw the shirt over her head. When she was dressed, she fell back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering closed.

  “Are you cold?” I asked. Paisley nodded.

  I hurried over and pulled the comforter out from under her. I tucked her in tightly, adding the extra blanket I kept at the foot of her bed.

  “Do you need anything else?” I asked, nervously brushing her wet hair off her face.

  “No,” she whispered. “I just need to sleep.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll come check on you in a few minutes. Get some rest.”

  I hesitated slightly before walking across the room. When I reached the door, I stepped out into the hallway and pulled it slightly closed. I looked back at Paisley. She looked so small lying there in bed. I’d never seen her look so vulnerable. I hated to see her in pain.

  ***

  An hour later, I knocked on Paisley’s door. She didn’t answer, so I pushed it open and let myself inside. She was no longer asleep, but I knew she hadn’t been awake long. I sat on the bed beside her and touched her forehead lightly.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Any better?”

  “Not really,” Paisley said. She pulled the blankets up around her chin and shivered. I rubbed my hands on her arms for a second.

  “I’m going to get you some soup, okay?” I said. “Do you like chicken noodle?”

  Paisley nodded.

  “Are you thirsty?” I asked. “Do you want water? Or maybe juice?”

  “Juice,” Paisley said.

  I hurried from the room and into the kitchen. Even though I hadn’t been grocery shopping in a few days, I knew there was some soup in the pantry. I pulled out a can of chicken noodle and popped it in the microwave. I watched the bowl move in slow circles, and I tried to remember all the things my mom used to do for me when I was sick.

  It was a short list. Soup. Crackers. Cool wash cloth. I couldn’t think of anything else that might help Paisley. I felt so useless in that moment. It was my first true test of fatherhood and I felt like I was failing miserably. As the soup cooked, I gathered up some crackers and a glass of juice. I went to the bathroom and pulled out a clean wash cloth. Back in the kitchen, I wet the cloth with cold water.

  Using a tray, I carried the soup, crackers, juice, and wash cloth to Paisley’s room. When I pushed the door open, she was sitting up in bed. All her pillows were propped up behind her and she had her head leaned back. I could tell she still wasn’t feeling great, but I hoped some food would help.

  “Here you go,” I said, laying the tray across her legs. “Eat slow.”

  Paisley didn’t speak as she picked up the spoon and slurped a tiny bit of soup into her mouth. She winced as it went down, but she took a few more bites.

  “Try some crackers,” I said, sliding the crackers closer to her. “They’ll settle your stomach.”

  “Okay,” Paisley said. She nibbled on the corner of a cracker slowly. I wished she would eat more, but I didn’t want to force her. The last thing I wanted was to make her throw up again. I sat on the edge of her bed and watched her eat. I wanted to say something, anything that might take her mind off being sick, but nothing came to mind.

  Instead, I just sat there and waited for her to need me. She finished half her soup and three crackers. When her juice was gone, she pushed the tray away.

  “I’m done,” she said. “I don’t think I can eat any more.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. I picked up the tray and set it on the floor. “You can have more later if you feel up to it. Do you want more juice?”

  “No,” Paisley said. “I want to sleep again.”

  “Okay,” I said. I grabbed the wash cloth off the tray and laid it gently over her forehead. “This should help with your fever.”

  “My mom used to do that,” Paisley commented. She sunk down on her pillows. Her eyes were already starting to droop.

  “Mine too,” I said softly. “Maybe it’s a mom thing.”

  “Maybe,” Paisley whispered.

  I waited until her eyes were completely closed before I picked up the tray. I moved slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible as I walked across the room. I didn’t want to leave her again, but she needed her rest. As I backed out of the room, I took once last look at her. She looked to be asleep, but when I was almost in the hallway, her small voice stopped me.

  “Thank you, Sean,” she whispered.

  I froze, a smile forming on my face. From the second I showed up at camp earlier, I was convinced I was failing her. I didn’t have the car. I only had my bike. I wasn’t sure where the pool was. I had no idea how to take care of a sick child. I floundered my way through the last few hours, just praying she wouldn’t get sicker. Even feeding her felt like a poor attempt at parenting. I thought I should be doing more to make her feel better.

  “Anytime, kiddo,” I whispered back. I pulled the door closed behind me and went to put the tray in the kitchen.

  Once I cleaned up the tray, I sunk into a chair at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands. It had been the longest day of my life and it wasn’t even over. Not only was my meeting with Tara a complete waste of time, but I had to leave without any explanation. It took me half an hour to get to Paisley. The entire drive from Yates’ Motorcycles, I willed my bike to go faster. I wanted to get to my daughter as soon as possible, but when I got there, I still felt like I’d taken too long.

  Ever since Claire’s death, I’d done the best I could to be a dad to Paisley. Still, I knew it wasn’t enough. Paisley barely spoke to me. She rarely ate a full meal. She was distant and stand-offish. It was my job to bring her out of her shell and to help her through the loss of her mother, but I wasn’t able to do that. I wasn’t able to do anything for her. Until today.

  Hearing her whisper “thank you” meant more to me than anything else. For the first time, I finally felt like I was doing something right. Even if she was still calling me Sean, she was grateful to have me around. Right then, that was more than enough.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tara

  Two days went by without a word from Sean. After he ran out of the conference room on Wednesday, I tried calling him but he never answered. I tried again all day Thursday and still, nothing. By lunch time on Friday, my patience was gone. I was livid as I marched down the hall toward Ray’s office. His door was open so I stepped inside without knocking.

  “We need to talk about Sean,” I said. Ray looked up with a frown.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “He isn’t returning my phone calls, and he hasn’t been in since Wednesday,” I explained. “At this point, the only worthwhile excuse would be—”

  “Maybe he just got b
usy,” Ray suggested with a shrug.

  “And that’s okay with you?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Of course not.” Ray sighed. “But what are we going to do about it? Have him arrested? Bust down his door?”

  From his tone, I knew Ray wasn’t serious, but there was something incredibly appealing about his suggestions. If Sean wasn’t going to answer my phone calls, then there was only one thing left for me to do.

  “Can you give me his address?” I asked suddenly. Ray’s expression changed from mild amusement to genuine concern in an instant.

  “I don’t know,” he said with a shake of his head. “He won’t like it if you just show up at his house, Tara.”

  “At this point, I don’t care,” I said. “Ray, he can’t act this way. He’s under contract with this company, and I’m not about to stand by while he runs our name into the ground.”

  “Okay,” Ray said. “If you’re sure you want to risk it.”

  “I am,” I said firmly. “Text me the address. I’m leaving now.”

  “Good luck,” Ray said. I could tell from his voice that he didn’t think my plan was a good one, but he’d left me in charge of Sean throughout this new ad campaign and I wasn’t going to shirk my duties. If Sean refused to show up and do his job, I would just have to make him.

  The ride to Sean’s house was longer than I expected. I knew he lived out of town, but I didn’t realize it was half an hour away. I drove down the highway with my windows rolled down, enjoying a rare Arizona breeze. I couldn’t remember the last time I spent any time just driving around in my car. I used to love random road trips. Blasting music, eating junk food, driving with no destination in mind. It was my therapy when I was young.

  Back then, I would take my car or my bike and just disappear. I hadn’t ridden a motorcycle in years. Ever since I started working at Yates’, I stopped having the time. Eventually, I sold my bike and gave it up as a bad hobby. It was ironic, really, that after years of being obsessed with bikes it took working for a major motorcycle manufacturer for me to finally give it up completely.

  As I drove toward Sean’s house, my mind drifted back to those times. Just me and my bike on an open highway. I felt closest to my dad while I rode. It was more than a hobby to him, it was his entire life. He loved motorcycles more than almost anything. The only thing that could make him smile more than a new bike was my mom. In that moment, on that open highway, I missed him more than ever.

  I shook myself back to the present as I pulled into Sean’s driveway. I knew I couldn’t be thinking about my dad when I knocked on Sean’s door. This was business, and the last thing I needed was for Sean to see me upset.

  Climbing out of my car, I looked at Sean’s house. It was small, modest, and slightly rundown. It was clearly an old home, but it was still nice. There was a tree in the front yard that hadn’t been trimmed in a while, but the flowers in the garden were in full bloom. Sean obviously tried hard to keep the house nice, but I was surprised to find that this was where he lived.

  After all, Sean’s father was a multibillionaire. Ray Yates had more money than most people would ever earn in several lifetimes. I couldn’t imagine why his son would live such a modest life. I remembered that Sean and Ray didn’t have the easiest of relationships. Maybe this was Sean’s way of keeping his father out of his life. By not taking money from him, or even help, Sean had managed to keep his freedom all these years.

  For the first time, I wondered what made Sean change his mind about coming to work at Yates’ Motorcycles. If he was so determined to distance himself from the Yates family, why would he agree to become the face of the company? What could possibly have changed his mind?

  I walked up to the porch and climbed the steps with determination. When I reached the door, I banged on it. Hard. Sean answered quickly, opening the door and stepping outside. I stumbled backward, taken aback by his sudden appearance on the porch.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, keeping his voice low.

  “Are you kidding?” I snapped. “You haven’t been to the office in two days. You’re not answering my calls or returning my texts. You can’t just flake out on your responsibilities. I know you aren’t thrilled about this arrangement, and frankly, neither am I. It was my idea, but the second you showed up I’ve begun to wonder if I made a huge mistake. You don’t get to take advantage of us. The money isn’t going to come free, okay? You have to put in the work. If you can’t do that, then—”

  “Will you keep your voice down?” he asked. I didn’t realize how loud my voice had gotten until Sean cut me off. “My daughter is sick. She’s inside, and she needs her rest.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, ready for an argument, when I registered his words. My mouth closed quickly and I took a step back. I had never felt worse about myself than I did in that moment. For days, I’d been judging Sean. I let myself think horrible things about him and now, I found out how wrong I’d been.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I had no idea. I didn’t even know you had a daughter.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Well, it’s not something I share with strangers. Plus, it’s kind of new.”

  “Can I help?” I asked, surprising even myself. From the look on Sean’s face, he was overwhelmed and had been for days. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  “Help?” he repeated.

  “It’s tough taking care of a sick kid.” I shrugged. “I just wondered if maybe I could help. My mother’s a nurse, so I have some experience in this area.”

  “Sure,” Sean said. He eyed me suspiciously, but stepped aside all the same. He held open the front door for me, and I walked inside.

  I looked around slowly. The living room was nice, with a couch and two chairs plus a fireplace. It was even smaller on the inside, but I could see why Sean lived there now. It had a specific kind of charm.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  “In her room,” Sean said, gesturing toward the hallway. “This way.”

  We walked down the hallway together, Sean slightly in front of me.

  “Let me see if she’s awake,” he said. I stopped and waited while Sean went inside his daughter’s room. I could hear him whispering to her and then his soft footsteps as he came back to the hallway. He poked his head out and motioned for me to go inside.

  “Hi,” I said, walking over to the little girl. She was half tucked beneath blankets, but her eyes locked on mine instantly. She looked exactly like her father. It took my breath away to see a miniature version of Sean lying there in front of me. “I’m Tara. What’s your name?”

  “Paisley,” she said weakly. She didn’t look shy, but I could tell from her voice that she wasn’t feeling well.

  “Well, Paisley,” I smiled. “I’m not a doctor or anything, but I think I can help you feel a little better.”

  “You can?” she asked.

  “I can,” I said, smiling wider. “Sean, will you get her a cold wash cloth please?”

  “I’ve been giving her one on and off,” Sean said. “But her fever hasn’t really gone down.”

  “That’s normal,” I said. “Is she throwing up?”

  “A few times.”

  “Probably just the flu,” I said. “Just get that wash cloth, okay?”

  “Okay,” Sean said. He looked at me and hesitated before he hurried out of the room. I turned back to Paisley and brushed her hair off her forehead.

  “You feel pretty bad, huh?” I asked.

  “Not as bad as I did,” Paisley said. “I’m just really tired and icky.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I said with sympathy. “Why don’t you turn over on your side, okay? It’ll make your tummy feel better.”

  “It will?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “It will,” I promised. “Here, let me help you.”

  I reached over and helped Paisley turn onto her side. She tucked her hands under head and looked up at me. This was a trick my mother taught me when I was a little girl. There was s
omething about lying on your side that helped relieve pressure on your stomach. It always helped me feel less nauseous.

  “Is that a little better?” I asked.

  “I think so,” Paisley said.

  I looked around the room and frowned.

  “I think we should convince your dad to move the T.V. in here. What do you think? You can watch movies. I bet you’ve been pretty bored in here.”

  “Sean’s been reading me stories and stuff,” Paisley shrugged. “But a movie would be better.”

  I smiled, taking note of the way she called him “Sean” instead of Dad. I wanted to ask questions, but I knew it wasn’t my place. I didn’t even know what compelled me to go inside. In that moment, I just knew I wanted to help. Sean looked so defeated that I couldn’t help but feel for him.

  “Here you go,” Sean said as he hurried back into the room. “One cold wash cloth.”

  “Perfect,” I said. I took it from him and laid it gently on Paisley’s forehead. “Hold this here. I’ll talk to him about the T.V.”

  “T.V.?” Sean asked. He raised his eyebrows when I turned to face him.

  “Paisley and I were talking,” I explained. “And it seems that she’s a little bored all cooped up in here. I was thinking you could move the T.V. in here? That way she can watch movies or something.”

  “That’s actually a really good idea,” Sean smiled. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” I shrugged. I sat with Paisley while Sean set the T.V. up in her room. He put on a movie and kissed her forehead. I told Paisley goodbye and let Sean lead me back to the front door.

  “I’m sorry about work,” Sean said once we were back out on the porch. “I can come in tomorrow if I need to.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I reminded him. “Just take care of Paisley. Call me when she’s feeling better, and we’ll set something up, okay?”

  “Thank you,” Sean smiled. It was the first time I could remember seeing a real smile on his face. “You were really good with her.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said. “Just keep her on her side and give her a ton of water. She’ll be better in no time.”