A Night at the Cabin
by Robert S Ruehrdanz
Jeff drove east on I-80 through the California Sierra Mountains, without a comment from his wife. He turned off at the Donner Lake, parked and stated. “For two hundred miles you haven’t said a word. I know you’re irritated about something. I thought maybe a change of scenery might help settle your way of thinking.” He waited for Noralee to reply and when she didn’t answer, he added, “You sure packed fast enough after I suggested we leave for the cabin last night.”
Noralee continued to stare at the mountains from the window of their four-year old pickup truck with an expressionless face while Jeff continued with his small talk.
Fifteen minutes further east on I-80, they turned off at the downtown exit for Truckee. Noralee shifted and asked, “Want to stop for lunch?”
“Yeah, I’m hungry,” he added. “Or, do you want to wait until we get to the cabin?”
“It’s too far.” She paused and admitted. “Besides, I have to go potty.”
On the main drag, Jeff found a parking spot near a burger joint. He climbed down from the truck and waited on the sidewalk.
Noralee lowered the visor and checked her makeup. She peeked at her husband’s profile. His jeans hung low on his hips. When did he grow the tummy? It doesn’t flatter him, but the rest of his body’s fine. So what? Those are minor physical imperfections. She smiled to herself. I still love the big lug even if he won’t apologize for getting me upset. He’s so stubborn.
She got down, slammed the door, stepped onto the sidewalk and announced, “I’m ready to eat.”
He took longer strides to stay with her rapid steps. “That’s the most talkative you’ve been today,”
She stopped, and shot him her response. “Now we’re even. You’ve yapped all morning and avoided the basis of our argument.”
They entered the café. Jeff went to an empty table and plopped on a cushioned seat.
Over her shoulder, she ordered. “Get me an iced tea,” and turned toward the restrooms.
He watched her sashay along in her too tight jeans and sweatshirt. She still has her figure. Well, perhaps if she lost twenty pounds, although I shouldn’t complain. He shook his head, and tried to figure where he stood with her.
Noralee returned and sat across from him.
Minutes later, a gum-chewing waitress arrived, tossed two menus on the table and mumbled, “You guys ready to order?”
Noralee flicked a strand of blonde hair away from her face, “Give us a minute.”
The waitress shifted her stance, put her hand on her hip and inquired, “What do you want to drink?”
Noralee gave the menu a fleeting look, “I’ll have an iced tea.” She took her paper napkin and blotted her lips.
“Make it two,” responded Jeff. He yawned and stretched his big arms wide, sighed and looked at his menu.
In silence, they studied their choices.
The waitress returned with their drinks and asked, “Wanna order now?”
Noralee handed the menu to the waitress. “Yes, I’ll have the pulled pork sandwich on sourdough with fries.”
The waitress turned to Jeff with her pencil poised.
“I’ll take the burger, fries and a house salad, with ranch on the side.”
The waitress took his menu and departed, chomping her wad of gum.
Jeff leaned toward Noralee. “What’s bugged you anyway?”
“Don’t pull your brainless stuff on me.” She considered a scream, but decided to make use of the emotion as a last resort. With a frustrated sigh, “Okay, it’s about the blonde at the ball game last night. Did you ask her for a date?”
“Oh, jeez Noralee,” he said exasperated, “She wanted me to get her a bag of peanuts when the vendor came by again.” He threw his hands up, “Okay, so we chatted a little.”
“Yeah, sure, I heard you ask if she knew the bartender at Red’s Recovery Room. Why didn’t you introduce her to me, your wife?”
Their waitress placed their food on the table, “Would you care for catsup, A-1 Sauce, or what?”
“No, thanks,” and with a dismissive wave, Noralee tore into her sandwich.
Jeff, lifted his burger to his mouth and stated, “I don’t need to apologize, because I didn’t do anything,” and took a huge bite of his burger.
Noralee finished a mouthful of sandwich and wiped her mouth. Her blue eyes peeked at Jeff over the top of the napkin that hid her grin. “Yes, you should apologize. You succeeded to get me upset with your flirtatious mouth.”
With his mouth full, he admitted. “Okay honey, I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do. To show you my sincerity, I’ll share a piece of cheesecake with you.”
“Order one to go, because I’m anxious to get to the cabin and find what the winter has left for us at the cabin.”
They drove another forty miles along the east side of beautiful Lake Tahoe to a grocery store near the turn-off to their cabin. They gathered food and drink items off a list she’d made earlier, loaded the bags in the truck bed and got in for a ten-minute ride from the store up the Kingsbury Grade to their cabin at the 10,000-foot level.
To the west, the sun began to hide behind the Sierra peaks when they arrived. The heat of the summer day lifted and a cool breeze whispered through the tall pines around their cabin site. Jeff removed several fallen branches and straightened the yard and porch area, started a fire and set the table.
Noralee started dinner, lit candles, opened a bottle of wine, grabbed two glasses and brought them to where he stood. They smiled at each other while he ran his fingers through her hair, took her hand, and led her to the comfortable plaid couch near the fireplace. “This is much better.” After they’d settled, he sighed and reached over with his right hand and rubbed his knuckles against her cheek. He looked astounded when a tear trickled from her eye.
She looked at him, “There are times when I get so mad at you.” For emphasis, she growled. “Argh,” and raised her arm to strike him. “I want to smack you upside the head. But lucky for you, this isn’t one of those times!” She raised her head and kissed him on the lips.
He put both arms around her and pulled her toward him until her head reclined against his chest. He looked at her and mumbled, “I think I’ll keep you.”
She giggled and threatened, “You’d better, or I’ll squeeze you until you scream.”
“Hmm, promises, promises,” he challenged her and leaned over to kiss her . . . the doorbell rang.
He glanced at his watch, “Its seven-thirty, who . . .” He untangled himself from her, went to the front of the house and pulled the door open. Two women and a man stood on his front steps.
The woman wore a plastic smile and a two-piece suit and announced, “I’m Ruth with Busby, James and Stein Realtors.” She turned to a couple standing behind her, “I’d like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell. They’re looking for a property to. . .”
“Excuse me; we are not selling. Bye now.” He eased the door shut.
He stood by the door. “We don’t want to sell, do we?”
“Of course not, let’s eat while the food’s still warm.” Noralee served their dinner and brought the plates to the living room.
Jeff refilled their glasses. While they ate, he grumbled about the lady who rang the bell, “It hasn’t been our day.” He tried to change the subject to the weather, a new movie on TV, while they finished dinner.
He helped her take the dishes into the kitchen and offered, “Can I help?” Without a word, she handed him a towel to dry the dishes, utensils and a pot. Finished, he went in the living room, and clicked on the TV.
Hopeful to re-ignite the mood they’d enjoyed before dinner, Noralee rubbed lotion on her hands, turned off the TV, put on some soft music and moved toward him. With a husky voice, she tempted him. “You wanna dance, mister?” and held her hands to him.
He answered with a smile, and put his arms around her waist and moved their bodies to the tempo of a slow ballad. She looked into his eyes, “Shall we retreat to the bedroom and . . .?”
The doorbell rang.
With a frustrated sigh, he glanced at the clock on the wall, dropped his arms and left her in the middle of the room. “It’s almost nine-thirty. If it’s the real estate lady again. . .” He stomped to the door and wrenched it open.
Jeff’s robust father-in-law pushed past him and into the house.
“Hey, Jeff,” Ralph greeted. “We’ve been at the casinos and thought we’d stop by.” He brushed past Jeff and strolled into the house to hug Noralee.
Noralee guzzled her full glass of wine, “Daddy,” she exclaimed, and wiped her lips. “We didn’t expect you tonight, where’s Mom?”
Ralph ignored her question and headed for the kitchen.
Her mother climbed the front steps and wheezed, “Where’s my dear daughter.” Hazel sported a new blonde wig and wore a polyester green pantsuit. “Give me a hug and tell me about your life these days.”
“Hey, Jeff gotta beer for me?” called Ralph from the kitchen table where he sat with a newspaper.
Jeff went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took a lone bottle of beer left over from Ralph and Hazel’s last trip to their cabin six months before. He opened and handed the bottle to Ralph, “There you go.”
Jeff went to the living room where Noralee and her mother chatted and asked, “Hazel can I get you a drink?”
“Oh, no, Jeff, thank you. We should get on the road before the weekend traffic gets any worse.”
Ralph yelled from the kitchen, “Hey, Jeff, can we use the extra bedroom for tonight?” and belched. “It’s a long drive to Sacramento.”
Jeff looked at the women to get their reaction. Hazel rolled her eyes, and Noralee shrugged her shoulders, “It’s your call.”
Ralph yelled again, “Hey, Jeff? You’re out of beer.”
Jeff went into the kitchen, “Ralph, make yourself at home,” and yawned. “Don’t mind us, put any glasses in the sink when you’re finished. We’re on our way to bed.”
Noralee went to a closet, pulled sheets, blankets, and towels and gave them to Hazel. “Here Mom, and hugged her. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Then Noralee called into the kitchen, “Good night Daddy,” and when he didn’t answer, she went into the bedroom.
Jeff turned off the music, cleared the dishes and took them into the kitchen.
Ralph sat at the kitchen table and read the paper.
When Jeff passed through, Ralph cleared his throat and stated. “Got anything to drink?”
Jeff ignored a smart remark and kept moving. “Try the Merlot in the fridge.”
Jeff opened and closed the door to their bedroom. Noralee lay on the bed still dressed. He went around to her side, sat on the edge, leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I want to reset the clock prior to dinner.”
A slight sound came from her lips, “Me too.” She sniffed and reached for a tissue.
Jeff leaned over her, “Oh, honey, don’t cry.”
She reached and pulled him to her hungry lips.
Jeff responded to her kisses and the snuggled for a moment.
She whispered, “Is the door locked?”
He pushed himself off the bed, and crossed the room, checked the door and returned to Noralee. Her big blue eyes shone brightly in the dim light.
He leaned down to kiss her and two loud knocks shattered the silence.
“Hey Jeff, there’s no Merlot in the fridge.” A pause and once again, Ralph asks, “What time does the store close?”
