Chapter3

#Chapter3

Good News-01

WESTLEY

THE OAK trees rising out on both sides of the driveway were like a gateway to paradise. Those were one of many things around here that I learned to appreciate and love. There was also something in this place that I didn’t find in the city, perhaps its the serenity that the city couldn't offer.

This little paradise welcomed me with open arms.

When Keene brought me here, I thought I would regret that decision, but everything around here had grown quickly on me, and the only place I considered home.

I sauntered to the front porch, taking the swing from the right that I already claimed it mine. It gave me the perfect view of the sun-streaked leaves that created glittering shadows on the entrance.

I closed my eyes to the whining of bees on the flower pot in front of me. The earthy fresh smell and the blooming of the scents of the wild roses I planted on the flower bed had relaxed my mind.

Keene once said that I had a green thumb. I laughed at that idea, but when I saw them first thing in the morning, they just melted my heart and blew me away to see the fruit of the hours I spent cultivating those flowers. They worth my sweat.

/"Harry!/" I jolted awake, sitting straight to the sharp male voice—it was Keene’s—my best friend, the strongest guy I knew.

We’d been friends since college, and he’d been my rock since then.

/"Harry,/" he repeated, /"guess what?/" He was grinning with brown eyes glittering with excitement.

He was handsome in a classic actor kind of way. Finally, he let his light blond hair grow longer than he used to keep it skinhead, but he was still a little bit pale. I always loved to pinch his small straight nose that was now wrinkling on me as if he read my mind.

/"Hey, I said I got something./" His expression suddenly turned sour when I didn’t pay attention to what he was about to say because lately, I wasn't lucky enough to receive any more good news.

/"Jeez, Keene. Just say it already./" I scowled at him. I hated the feeling when people interrupted my rest.

The fact that he surprised me, it made my heart rate accelerate, and it felt uncomfortable. He knew it because I’d been suffering from Paroxysmal Atrial Fibrillation when I was in college, and it came back when I was under stress.

/"We got a guest. I received an email earlier, and I already replied that the cabin is ready for visitors. I thought you’d be thrilled to hear the good news. He’ll be here as early as tomorrow morning. So, we still have a day to prepare the cabin. Isn’t it great?/" He grinned again.

Indeed it was good news. Keene was left with an almost empty bank account after his father's chemotherapy wasn't successful. He never gave up on his dad and sold everything until there was nothing left. Before they got the deal for their small house and two cabins, his father passed away.

/"Okay./"

/"Just okay? Harry, it had been like a year since we had a guest. Not to mention, it was only half-paid. You have to admit that nothing works on our strategies. Plus, a small business like this needs a good advertisement, but we already knew that it was impossible for us right now./"

/"Do we really have strategies, Keene?/" I chuckled bitterly. I understood his underlying frustrations in this situation because he couldn’t work anymore. For many days, I wished my lifestyle was like before that I could easily help him, but things had changed since I chose to be on my own. /"But you’re right. This is good news. I’ll go then, to clean the cabin./" I hustled to stand when he grabbed my arm.

/"Coming with you./"

I widened my eyes to shut him up. /"I need exercise, and you won’t dare help me, Keene. Did you hear me?/"

He shut his mouth tight. He may be my best friend, but I bothered him too much already that I could barely sleep at night. The least that I could do was to do the chores since he could barely stand on his own feet.

/"Harry—/"

/"Just bring some clean towels and sheets, okay? And some toiletries, too./" I stepped down the porch, then I paused to look at him. /"Who’s our guest?/"

/"It’s Arella Rogue who booked the cabin. Our guest is a guy named Clyve—/"

/"Okay. I should start cleaning because we still have to go to town for groceries./"

The cabin was made of finest woods from the foundation, walls, and floorboards. It was a little bit old that we had to make sure it was not infested by termites.

This one had only a small room, kitchenette with small cupboards, and a single Viking stove. A living room with enough space for a wooden rocking chair and an old black leather couch, which was Keene’s father’s favorite. There was a small fireplace with readied piles of wood.

I started clearing cobwebs on the windowsills, pulled the white sheets off that covered the furniture, then I started dusting them off, and then vacuumed the floor.

I was in the bedroom, pulling the sheet off from the bed when Keene came over, probably with the things I asked from him to bring.