Chip could talk about this stuff all night, and forgetting himself, he practically did. Despite not wanting to bore her to death, he realized that the restaurant was closing as he was finishing the last few pages of the report.

“We should probably get going,” Claire said with a nervous smile. “But we need to meet again to go over the rest of your ideas.”

His face brightened. “That would be great.”

Great. Again. Did he not know any other words?

“I need to go back to my cabin and grab a few things, but after that I’ll be at the hotel. Maybe we can meet in the morning?”

He stood up, nodding. “Yes, sure.”

Chip drove back to the cabin and dropped her off. He couldn’t be sure if he was imagining it, but it seemed like she was in a rush to get out of the car.

He’d bored her enough for one night. She waved at him from the door and he took the hint, driving off and into the night.

Chapter Ten

How was it possible to spend months – years, even – living the same life, day after day with work, traffic, the grocery store, an occasional visit to the dentist, and in one day everything changes?

When Claire used to read memoirs about other people’s exciting lives, or when she stared longingly at the exotic locations on her desk calendar, she thought that one day, if her life ever evolved away from her gray cubicle, she’d be ready for it. She’d enjoy it and embrace it, as she had the rest of her life.

Yet here she was, with more excitement in the last week than she’d had in perhaps the last ten years, and she had no idea how to handle it.

She’d regained a bit of calm during her dinner with Chip, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t cut out for an exciting life. The events of the day had left her walking around in a daze. What was she thinking, agreeing to go to dinner and leaving Marty alone in the cabin?

Or at least she hoped he was still in the cabin. Claire stood in the doorway, waving at Chip as he drove away. There was a chance she would open the door and Marty would be gone. Then she’d have to wonder if she’d imagined it all, like a fit of madness.

Once she was satisfied Chip had left, she carefully opened the door and called out, “Hello?”

“Hey,” a voice called back.

Phew. She hadn’t imagined it after all.

Marty popped his head out of the bedroom, a sheepish look on his face. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see if there were any more photo albums.”

“Of course,” Claire said, closing the door behind her. “You can help yourself. Or could you not find them?”