by Melinda Minx
“But it’s your cabin.”
“Right, it was my cabin. I want us to buy our cabin.”
She hugs me tight, and her parents smile at me.
“Should I ask Rose if she’s staying for dinner?” Cynthia asks.
“Don’t be so pushy, Mom!” Rita says. “You might scare her off.”
“Coal,” Cynthia says, turning to me. “Do you think I’ll scare her off?”
Why’s she asking me? I haven’t even said two words to Rose. Then again, a hamburger scared Rose off.
“Why don’t you pry Damien away and ask him?” I suggest.
“Good call,” Roger says, while reading a book. “Do what Coal says.” He doesn’t look up from his book.
Andrea’s going to marry me for real, and her family seems crazy about me. It’s all seeming too good to be true. The last time I had this feeling was in Afghanistan. We had been preparing to take this town back from insurgents for the better part of a week. It was expected to be a long and bloody battle, and SEAL support from my team was the only edge our boys had. When we mobilized, the insurgents fled. We walked into the town without firing a shot.
The relief was huge, and we all walked around in a stunned daze at not having to fight. None of us could believe it. The regular infantry was celebrating, but my SEAL team remained on edge. After a few days, me and my team finally started to let our guard down, and once we did, the first bomb went off.
Why do I have that same feeling again? On Christmas Day—on the day I proposed to my wife. This is Berkeley, California, not Afghanistan. What’s the worst that could happen to me here? I could accidentally buy a loaf of gluten-free bread and pay five bucks extra?
Still, I’ve learned to trust my instincts, and I’ll stay on guard for much longer than feels necessary.
“You okay, Coal?” Andrea asks.
I snap back to reality and the present. I smile. “Yeah, everything’s good.”
“You want to go look around at houses tonight? We can look at Christmas lights while doing double-duty and looking at houses.”
“Houses?” I ask. “I thought we were looking for a cabin.”
“We will,” she says, “but how long do you want to live in my townhouse?”
Damn, I’m dumb. Of course she’s not going to want to stay in a small townhouse when we get married. I was only really thinking about losing my cabin, but it hadn’t occurred to me she’d probably want an actual house, too.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Let’s go look.”
“Can we bring Rita?” Andrea asks.
Rita scoffs. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“You’re a realtor, though,” I say.
“I mean,” Rita says, “I guess I could probably help you know where to look.”
“You’re coming with us,” Andrea says.
We all start to get our coats on, and I realize Damien’s is gone. “Damien left?”
“Rose and him went out,” Rita says, winking.
“I think they’re fucking,” Andrea whispers.
I laugh. “It’s a Christmas miracle, huh?”
We load into my truck—I’m driving—and Rita asks, “So, uh, Oakland or Berkeley?”
I shrug. “Where do you want to live, Andrea?”
“What is, uh,” Rita says, stammering, “your, um, budget? Berkeley is a lot more expensive than Oakland…”
“Wherever Andrea wants to live,” I say.
As expensive as Bay Area housing is, I can afford anywhere. My investments have been good to me.
“I’d rather stay in Oakland,” Andrea says.
“Alright,” Rita says. “Let’s go.”
We drive down to Oakland. Andrea is next to me in the middle seat, and Rita’s in the passenger seat. The traffic is lighter than normal, but still not great. A lot of people are driving around to visit family for Christmas.
“Turn here,” Rita says. “This neighborhood is in a good school district…”
Andrea laughs. “Who said we’re having kids?”
“Andrea would be a good Mom,” I say, grinning.
“So Coal wants kids,” Rita says.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want them!” Andrea says.
“You sound very indecisive, Andrea—”
“Let’s see the houses,” I say, trying to cut Andrea a break.
Most of the houses in the neighborhood have pretty elaborate Christmas decorations. There are a lot of manger scenes, Santas, reindeer, the whole shebang.
“I like the ones that are just all white,” Andrea says. “Those look nice.”
“So three-bedroom? Four-bedroom?” Rita asks.
“Four,” Andrea says.
“Two kids then,” Rita says.
I laugh again. “Boys or girls?”
“Two boys would be a handful,” Andrea says, biting her lip.
Rita flashes a smile at me. We finally tricked her into admitting she wants kids.
“Two girls wouldn’t?” I ask.
“Maybe one of each is best,” Rita says.
“It’s not like you can even decide!” Andrea snaps. “You get what you get!”
“It’s fun to think about, though, that’s all,” Rita says. “Look at this one.”
She points, and I slow down. “This one’s for sale?”
“Yeah,” Rita says. “It’s pricey, but—”
“You like it, Andrea?” I ask, cutting Rita off.
“Well...it’s pretty dark,” Andrea says. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s mostly about the location,” Rita says. “If you like this location, all the houses around here are pretty similar. This is close to where you work, but in a great school district. That’s what you’re paying for—if you don’t like anything about the house itself, renovations or upgrades will be a negligible cost compared to the full cost of the house and property.”
“This suddenly feel stressful,” Andrea says.
I lean back in my seat. “Buying a cabin is pretty simple. That’s mostly about location, too. What kind of trees grow around it? Is there a nearby place to fish? What kind of game can you hunt?”
Rita laughs. “Oh, that reminds me, there’s actually a cabin for sale out by Lake Chabot, if you guys want to go have a look at it? It’s unoccupied and has one of those phone-activated locks on it, so I can even take you inside.”
“I’m interested,” I say.
Andrea crosses her arms. “You’re way more interested in houses than cabins, huh?”
“Sure am,” I say. “It’s probably best to go see houses during the day anyway, you can’t disagree there, can you?”
“I guess not,” she says. “Let’s check out the cabin. Take the 580 South.”
When we turn onto the ramp leading to the highway, I notice an SUV behind us. I think back to when we were going through the neighborhood, and there was an SUV behind us then, too. A lot of cars were driving through that neighborhood to see the lights, and a lot of people drive SUVs, but my guard is still up, so I take notice.
I drive in the middle lane toward Lake Chabot, and the SUV falls back behind us until it’s just a bright pair of headlights. At some point, a big truck gets behind us and I lose sight of the SUV entirely.
“The turn is coming up,” Rita says after a while. “Get in the right lane.”
I move all the way over to the left-most lane.
“She said the right lane, Coal,” Andrea says, elbowing me.
“Oh?” I say, pretending to be a dumbass. “I guess I got mixed up.”
I’m focused ninety percent on the rearview mirror now. I’m searching out the SUV.
“Coal, right lane!” Andrea snaps. “You’re going to miss the exit!”
I wait a few more seconds, then I tear across all four lanes in the span of a few hundred feet. I watch the rearview mirror. I catch sight of a pair of headlights scrambling across as well, and when I exit onto the ramp, it follows.
“What the hell was that?” Andrea asks.
> “Just checking to make sure my steering column isn’t messed up.”
Andrea scoffs. “If we crash and die, at least we’ll know your steering column is good to go.”
That SUV is still behind us as I turn onto the road to the lake. “Anyone want a snack?”
“Nope,” Andrea says.
“Rita?” I ask.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Anyone gotta’ pee?” I ask.
They both say no.
“I want some Reese's Pieces,” I say. “I’m going to stop.”
I pull into a gas station, watching the SUV in my rear-view mirror. It doesn’t follow this time. I get sight of it as it drives past us. It’s a blue Ford Explorer.
I make note of it, but since it’s not following at this point, I’m not nearly as worried as I was before.
While I go to the candy aisle of the gas station, I notice Rita rush into the bathroom, and Andrea waits at the door. They both have to go. Leave it to women to not admit they’ve gotta’ go. If I hadn’t stopped now, they’d probably both need to go later when there’s nowhere to go. Then they’d have to hold it.
I grab a king-size bag of Reese’s Pieces and wait forever for them both to use the bathroom.
When they are both done, they take their time to browse the candy and both pick something out.
“So you both wanted candy,” I say, “and you both had to go.”
“So?” Andrea asks.
“Just saying.”
We load back into the truck, and I decide to save my candy for later. I want to keep my eyes open for a blue SUV. It wouldn’t do if that thing snuck up behind us again while I was pouring candy into my mouth.
Andrea’s eating a Kit Kat and Rita has a Snickers.
“You gotta’ break me off a piece of that, Andrea,” Rita says.
“Why?”
“It’s a Kit Kat.”
“So?” Andrea asks, biting into all four bars while they are still connected.
“Oh my God!” Rita snaps. “Who eats a Kit Kat like that? Coal, the woman you’re marrying is inhuman!”
“What did she do?” I ask.
“Instead of breaking the Kit Kat off bar by bar, she bit into the whole thing like some kind of monster.”
“Hmmm,” I grunt. “The wedding’s off, I guess.”
Andrea gives me a playful punch to the arm, but I barely feel it, I’m still worried about the SUV.
“You got your own candy, Rita,” Andrea says, crossing her arms. “So did Coal. Are you going to give me part of your Snickers?”
“Snickers aren’t made for sharing, Kit Kats are. If you buy a Kit Kat, you have to know going in that you need to share it.”
Andrea takes another big bite into all four bars. I like her style.
Andrea laughs. “Well, Rita, let’s think this through. If I give you and Coal both a piece, I just gave away half of my candy. There are only four pieces. What if there were three other people in the car, would I have to give three pieces away and keep one?”
I let their argument fade into the background. I imagine this is the way they argued growing up, and Christmas time can bring back those kind of memories and experiences.
I don’t see any headlights behind us as we drive. Not a lot of people are going to Lake Chabot in the middle of the night on Christmas.
Maybe it was a coincidence, but I don’t have a good feeling.
“You guys want to just head back?” I ask.
“What?” Rita says, crumpling up her Snickers wrapper. “We’re almost there. Don’t you want to see the cabin?”
I consider telling them about the SUV, but it’s not even behind us now. In all likelihood, I’m being paranoid, and I don’t want to spook both of them on Christmas.
I’ve run the possibilities through, and if we’re being followed, in all likelihood it’s Aiden. His company is in ruins thanks to his own stupid fucking decisions, but I wouldn’t put it past him to blame me, Rita...or even Andrea.
The whole “Hero SEAL” bullshit probably did quite a bit to make him even more fucking mad.
“Come on, Coal,” Andrea says. “We should check it out. I know you really want to have a cabin more than a house. We should make that a priority, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding.
“Turn here,” Rita says.
I start to follow Rita’s directions as we drive up and down winding hills and roads.
“You can’t actually own properly on the parkland,” Rita says. “The cabin is off in the surrounding woodland, but it’s still within spitting distance to the lake.”
I start to grind my teeth. I realize we’re pretty far from civilization now. I lost track of how many tiny roads we turned off . If we’re being followed, this is a bad spot to be.
I watch the rearview mirror, and that blackness behind us starts to feel like the eye of a storm. My SEAL instincts go into overdrive. I can’t see anything with my eyes—and I don’t hear anything—but I know something is wrong.
Fuck it. I might scare them, but it’s better to scare them than to put them into real danger.
I hit the brakes and jerk the wheel, and the truck spins into a one-eighty.
“What the hell!” Andrea gasps. I see Rita drop the piece of Kit Kat Andrea gave her onto the floor.
Before either of them can even react, I speed up back down the way I came. The road we’re on is barely wide enough for two cars. I accelerate as Andrea pleads to me to explain what’s going on.
No time for that.
Suddenly, on the edge of that blackness, I see the vague outline of a vehicle. Its headlights are off.
He’s been following us ever since the gas station, but he turned off his headlights. I was right to trust my SEAL instincts.
I hit the brakes. “Call the police. Now.”
“What’s going on?” Andrea asks me in a panicked voice.
I grab her phone and dial 911, then throw it back to her. “Tell them we’re being followed, that Aiden is likely in violation of his restraining order.”
“Oh, God,” Rita says, her voice cracking. “No no no, please no.”
Andrea finally pulls it together and starts explaining over the phone.
I flushed Aiden out now, but we’re both stopped, facing each other on the dark road a few hundred feet apart. If our cars were moving, it would be like a game of chicken, but we’re both totally still.
If I didn’t have Andrea and Rita in the truck with me, I would play chicken with him. I’d ram him off the fucking road, and then I’d pull him out of that SUV and beat him bloody.
But that’s not an option now, I have to stall until the police get here. The last thing I need right now is another assault charge against me. And more importantly, I can’t risk Andrea and Rita’s safety.
The headlights flash on, and the SUV blasts toward us.
Fuck.
There’s no time to turn around and run. There’s no time to get Andrea and Rita out of the truck. Back to Plan A then: chicken.
I hit the gas. As dangerous as it seems, putting up a fight now is more likely to shake Aiden than if I just sit there and let him ram us. If I do this right, I might be able to hit him off the road and get us clear.
“God! Send someone!” Andrea shouts into the phone. “Rita, give them the address!”
The engine roars as I accelerate right into Aiden’s SUV.
The road we’re on is on a slight incline. To my left, it becomes forest and goes further uphill. To my right, it goes downhill into brush.
When the headlights from Aiden’s SUV start to blind me—when they’re fucking big and covering the whole windshield—I jerk the wheel to the left. I want to be on the inside—I want the impact to graze us and shove Aiden off the road and downhill.
But he turns, too. Shit.
I slam on the brakes. If I didn’t have my fucking wife and sister-in-law in the car with me, I’d hit him hard and fast and fuck the consequences, but I have to protect them.
Our bumpers slam each other at an angle. Everything shakes—especially my spine—and the next thing I know the truck is tipping over.
Andrea and Rita scream, and I grab hold of the seatbelt to stop myself from falling down and crushing the two of them. The truck slides across the ground—I can see sparks flashing across the windshield, and then I feel a sudden drop.
The truck slides off the road and down into the brush. It doesn’t tumble again, and none of the windows shatter, but fuck. I’ve been run off the road by a fucking piece of shit asshole who has nothing to lose. And me? I’ve got everything to lose, for once in my life.
And if I’ve got everything to lose, I’ve got everything to fight for.
The truck stopped on its side, so I unbuckle the seatbelt and slowly lower myself down toward the passenger-side door—which is now the floor. Andrea is hanging by her seatbelt in the middle, and Rita is laying on her side on top of the door.
“Are you okay?” I pull Andrea’s hair back, checking for any injuries.
“I’m...I’m fine,” she says, her voice shaken.
I look her over, checking for any broken bones or cuts. She does seem unscathed.
“Rita?” I ask.
“He’s coming for us,” Rita says, tears in her eyes.
“I’m not letting him near you,” I say. “Stay on the phone, help the police find us.”
I pull the handle on the driver’s side door and push it upward, like the hatch to some nuclear silo.
I climb out of the truck and into the cold air. Above from the road, I see the glare of Aiden’s headlights. I jump out of the truck and hit the ground, my feet falling into the snow.
A shadowy form steps out in front of the glare from the lights: Aiden’s silhouette. His shadow casts long across the snowy brush and onto my truck.
I shout out over the groaning engine. “The police are on their way, Aiden, it’s over.”
“You know it’s me,” his voice shouts down at me. “You know why I’ve come for you. You know it’s all your fault. You destroyed what was important to me, now I’ll kill what is important to you.”
He’s a fucking tech-startup failure. A man who beats on women. He can’t take a fucking SEAL.