One

The breeze was fresh and clean while I drove through the highway, and the only sound I heard was the engine of my slightly beat-up Ford truck.

Two days had passed since I left home, and it had been a long ride on the I-94W to get to my destination. I had only stopped for gas, water, bed, and breakfast to get a few hours of sleep.

I was now driving through the US-2 road, and over the wintery mountains, I could see the sun slowly setting. On the right side of the road, I saw a sign with the name of the town I would be staying in until things died down, which brought my journey to a close.

Whitefish, Montana, is a small town with a population of around six thousand plus. It was the kind of place you vacationed in or raised a family. In my case, it was a great place to hide from a certain socialite group.

When I reached downtown, I got lost looking for the house where I would supposedly stay. It was stupidity on my part for being overconfident that I would be able to find the place by memory.

I didn’t want to go around asking bystanders for directions because even with how I looked, there was still a one percent chance someone could identify me. Because of that chance, I took the risk of moving across the country, but it was flawed. One wrong move, and I had to start again, so I drove around in circles, taking uncalculated turns to refresh my memory rather than ask for directions.

From what I remembered from my secretary’s detailed sketch, it was within the third block from Central Avenue, located downtown toward 3rd Street.

After ten minutes had passed and I still hadn’t found the house, I turned toward downtown again to retrace my steps but to no avail. In defeat, I parked the car in front of a bakeshop to ask for directions.

Before entering it, I studied the shop first with scrutinizing eyes, watching people getting in and out of the door. I could see a handful of people inside, which wasn’t a good start for my first day here. I decided against it with a sigh, started the truck, and pulled away.

Once I reached the first intersection from the bakeshop, I stopped as the traffic light turned red. I took the time to look at my surroundings, and my eyes grew wide when I saw the name on the street sign from my right. A smile broke across my grim expression, and I felt like lady luck had heard my plea.

The light turned green, and I turned right. I continued driving down the street where row houses made of uniformed wooden structures came into view, and at the third intersection, I saw a moving truck by the right side of the road.

I hurriedly but lightly stepped on the brakes.

I shook my head in amazement as I ogled at the truck outside a white picket-fenced house with a poorly trimmed lawn. Seeing the man standing beside one of the movers, relief washed over me just as my best friend noticed my arrival. He waved his hand in recognition, and I parked the truck around the curb and jumped out to meet him.

Walking toward him, I grinned while studying the casual look my friend, Luke Bailey, was sporting. He had traded his Armani suit for a white shirt underneath a long plaid polo, rugged denim jeans, and hiking boots. His blond hair was tousled, indicating that he didn’t bother combing it this morning. But who was I to judge? I didn’t look any better myself. I could only take a quick shower before I left my last bed and breakfast yesterday.

We looked nowhere near like we were ready for a business meeting.

“Did you get lost?” Luke asked with an ear-splitting smile, which made me arch my eyebrow. He seemed to be smiling at the fact that I indeed got lost.

“Was it that obvious?” I countered smugly.

“I told you to bring the GPS with you. But no. You just had to be stubborn and persistent in times of need.” He mocked while trying —but failing— to imitate my voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s not recount the past and settle on now.” I brushed off his words, closing in on the distance between us to give him a quick one-handed hug. “I suppose you started unpacking while I’m trying not to get lost,” I stated after letting go, studying the moving crew as they carried boxes inside the house.

“What else was I supposed to do while waiting for you?” He teased, patting my arm in a friendly gesture. “Since you are finally here, how about a tour of the place?” he asked and faced the house.

I followed his lead and studied the cottage-like design of the place I would be calling home.

The house was simple and ordinarily familiar like most suburban houses. Up close, I got to see how worn-out it looked. The dark green paint on the walls had somewhat nipped off, showing an underlying dark wood underneath its base. The wooden steps leading to the front porch squeaked, and dust collected on the front porch windows.

“How long did you say this house was unoccupied?” I asked jokingly.

The house felt like it was going to cave in any time soon. Although, he informed me a week before I decided to move in that it was functional and livable based on his last visit, which was now questionable.

“I had it since my grandmother passed away two years ago, and she didn’t die in the house,” Luke answered my unspoken question.

“Why didn’t your family live here?”

“We lived here back when I was in elementary until my parents moved to Chicago for a job. At the same time, my grandmother moved here, and my parents visited her from time to time. When she got ill, they stayed here with her. After she passed away, my mother had no interest in this place. ‘It has too much memory,’ she said. So, I took it. You never know when you’ll need a safe house.” He ended his speech with a lighter tone. “And if you are wondering, it is not haunted. It’s just worn out and needs little tender love and care,” he added amusingly.

“Right. Little old TLC.” I snorted before heading up the creaky stairs.

Once we entered the house, I playfully coughed twice and waved away the non-existent whirling dust in the air. Luke rolled his eyes at my poor acting skills and continued guiding me inside.

The place wasn’t small as I expected. It was a two-story house with two bedrooms, a bathroom on each floor, a kitchen, and a living room. There was even a small backyard with untrimmed grass. Throughout the tour, Luke was overstressing how little it needed fixing. However, I didn’t agree with him. To get it running like modern houses nowadays, it needed extensive renovation.

Once the tour finished, we ended up back in the living room. It was the only place in the house that looked livable, which meant it hardly had any dust unless you looked under the couches and rugs.

“Are you staying here with me to clear things out for a week is a good idea?” I asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

“No. I’m only here for a day. I already booked a ticket for tomorrow morning, and it’s a four-hour drive back to my hotel. If you aren’t going to be there to run the place, who would?” he replied with a sympathetic look, which only lasted for a second.

“Right. Got it.”

I sighed in defeat and slumped down on the nearest couch but quickly regretted it as dust collected around me. I coughed and covered my nose and mouth before getting up.

“Well, there is the dust I was looking for,” I remarked sarcastically.

“You could always stay at one of the hotels, Kyle.” Luke tried reasoning with me, looking a bit worried. It wasn’t the first time he tried to talk me into the hotel or apartment idea.

“If it involved using my credit card, I’m not going. You know I couldn’t do that. Besides, I need to keep a low profile, and staying in a hotel isn’t exactly lying low,” I argued, pointing out the facts.

“I can put the reservation under my name and use my card. You only have to ask.” He offered.

“No. I’ll take the house. Thank you. It’s the most low-key bet you’d ever suggested.”

“It wasn’t even a suggestion. You asked me to lend it to you, remember?”

“Anyway, if you’re staying for the day, at least help me clean this room,” I instructed, changing the topic. “Did they pack the couch and mattress with all of my stuff?” I asked, eyeing the spacious living room.

“You couldn’t possibly sleep here for the duration of your stay,” Luke stressed in disbelief, understanding my plan.

“Yes. That is what I’m going to do.” I smiled innocently at my friend.

~

The sun was about to set when we finally finished unpacking my things and cleaning half of the house. I felt relieved that the bathroom and plumbing worked.

Since the living room and kitchen were directly situated across each other, I decided I would stay on the right side of the house where the living room was. There was no hope of cleaning the bedrooms, and I was unsure how long I would be staying.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in one of the rooms? We could still clear it out,” Luke asked as we sat down on the new couch while he evaluated our work.

The room had been cleared out, and only the new furniture I brought with me was currently in it, plus the dining table across the room.

“Yes. I think this would be fine. It’s not like I’m getting visitors. I’m living in solitude. Remember?” I replied and joked lightly.

He laughed but paused when we both remembered why I had to leave.

“I can take care of things, Kyle. You didn’t pay me as your executive assistant for nothing.”

“More like a personal assistant,” I corrected teasingly. “Please send me everything via email if there is an emergency. I brought my laptop with me, but I’ll have to get an internet connection for that to work….” I trailed off in annoyance.

“In the future, when you think this was a bad idea, remember I didn’t put you up for this.” He held up his hands in surrender.

“Yeah. Yeah.” I rolled my eyes at his indifference to my decision. Even though Luke was one of my closest friends, I was also his boss. Sometimes it strained our friendship, but it was still intact at the end of the day.

For dinner, Luke and I headed downtown. I suggested driving him in my newly acquired beat-up Ford truck, which used to be my grandfather’s truck. It was about forty years old, give or take a decade.

He was a little hesitant about getting into the old thing at first. When I reminded him that I drove it across five states, he told me how impressed he was that I got here alive. In the end, he jumped in the passenger side, and we drove off.

Once we reached the heart of the town, I was glad I took the wheel because Luke looked like he was feeling nostalgic at the moment. He was preoccupied looking out the townscape, and he started telling me stories of when he was younger of places he went to play, where he got his favorite food, and the ice cream shop where he had his first date at the age of eight.

“Eight years old? Man, you’re still such a late bloomer even then.” I teased, shaking my head in hilarity. “I took a girl out when I was six,” I stated smugly.

“What was it? A playdate?” He mocked.

I rolled my eyes at his comeback. He was right on the mark.

“Anyway, could you tell me where we are going to eat? I’m getting hungry with all this talking.”

“Just turn right at that intersection. We are heading out to Aunt Carol’s diner. You’ll love it there. She makes the best pecan pie.” He gushed like a teenage girl.

I grinned at his words and followed his instructions. It didn’t take long before we reached our destination. I easily spotted the diner since the red neon light was flashing brightly outside the window, and I parked the car in an empty slot by the door. Once I turned the ignition off, Luke got out of the car and headed inside without waiting for me.

It took a while for me to catch up with him, and by the time I entered the premise, two uniformed waitresses were fussing around Luke. One looked right around her fifties while the other girl might be in her early twenties. They both wore identical mint blue-button waitress uniforms with a white apron tied around their waist.

“My goodness, Luke. How long has it been? You’re a man now. I still remember you bouncing around here, clutching your robot toy with your mother.” The older waitress cooed lovingly after giving Luke a quick embrace.

“It’s been a while, Ms. Carol. You look like you haven’t aged a day.” He flattered her with a smile.

“And he knows how to compliment a lady now,” Carol announced proudly.

“I’m glad you finally came back, Luke.” A man in a white polo shirt and an apron showed up behind me.

I watched my friend’s exchange like he was the prodigal son. When they were done getting reacquainted, Luke finally remembered that I still existed.

“Oh! By the way, I would like you all to meet my…ah…cousin, Kyle. He’s the one who is actually moving into the house, not me.” He gestured for me to get closer, which I did.

“From your father’s side?” Carol asked, eyeing me like I was some newly discovered specimen.

“Ah, yes…from my father’s side,” Luke agreed smoothly while looking at me wearily.

I kept a poker face as our eyes met. No one was supposed to know who I was, but I never expected my friend to lie so smoothly about it. Based on his past attempts at lying in my presence, he wasn’t that good at all.

“Hi,” I greeted and gave out a timid wave.

“So, do you still have the old menu, Ms. Carol? Kyle and I are hungry,” he asked, quickly changing the topic before anyone could interrogate me.

The old lady snapped out of her welcoming vibe and told everyone to get back to work before answering Luke. “Everything is the same, dear. Do you want your usual order? Chicken fritters, fries, a vanilla milkshake, and my pecan pie?” she asked, smiling at the memory.

“You have a good memory, Ms. Carol, but I would trade in the milkshake for a soda now. And make it two orders, please.” He chuckled in reply.

“Right. You’re all grown up now, I suppose.” She nodded and noted with a smile.

Luke guided me toward one of the empty booths. It had a view of the street outside, which hardly any cars passed by. If it weren’t for the customers in the diner, I would have thought the place was a ghost town. But then again, it was almost eight in the evening.

It took twenty minutes for our meal to be served. We ate for about another twenty and then paid the bill. Luke was hesitant to leave, but it was almost nine. If he didn’t want to sleep on my couch for the night, he had to leave right away to get some sleep before his flight tomorrow morning.

After much stalling, he bid goodbye, and we drove back to the house in silence.

Suddenly, he ordered me to stop the car.

“What the heck, man?” I asked in annoyance as I hit the brakes as quickly as possible. We halted right in front of the bakeshop where I stopped by this morning.

“I can’t believe it. It’s her.” He gasped in surprise as he surveyed the store.

“Who?” I asked in confusion.

“It’s the girl I had a crush on. The girl I took out on my first date,” he replied breathlessly at the memory.

“Oh, I see. Do you want to go in and rekindle whatever you two had back then?” I asked sarcastically.

Luke gave me a grim look. “Are you insane? It was a short-lived romance.” He snorted in dismissal.

“What happened? She broke up with you?” I asked, poking at his discomfort.

“Hell, no! I broke up with her. She wouldn’t let me hold her hand,” he countered in genuine disbelief. Though I knew he was kidding.

I laughed at his reply and continued driving back to the house. After I parked the car on the driveway, Luke didn’t take his sweet time and quickly got in his rental car. After a quick wave, he entered the driver’s seat and drove out off the pavement.

I stood by the truck and watched the tail light of his car disappear. For a moment, I finally felt alone.