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I slept well but found myself getting more nervous with each mile Snickety registered on the odometer. Suddenly, I was aware that every mile I drove took me further away from everything that was familiar and comfortable in my life. In full panic attack mode, I pulled over in a rest area, grabbed my phone, and got out of the car.
"Krista, why did you let me do this?"
"Em, what's wrong? Where are you?"
"Somewhere in Montana, I think. This drive has given me too much time to think. I know absolutely nothing about hunting or hunters or cryptids or living in the north. I'm already out of sweet tea."
"Take a breath, sweetie. It's OK to be nervous. You're making a fresh start. I wish I could have come along to keep you from freaking out."
"Me, too."
We talked for a while as I walked around the rest area. By the time I got back into Snickety and pulled onto the highway, I promised myself I'd stop looking at my life in the rearview mirror. I was going to focus on what comes next. I'm a big believer in the power of positive thinking, but I'm also a realist. I know myself pretty well and staying positive isn't all that easy.
I stopped for lunch in Missoula. I was just paying the bill when my cell phone rang with a call from an Idaho number. "Hello."
"Hello, Ms. Mason. This is Jim Stafford, Mr. Wilkins’ lawyer."
"Of course, Mr. Stafford. Is there a problem with the cafe?"
"No. No problem. I was just checking to see if you were still planning to meet with me tomorrow in Wilkins’ Gap?"
"I'm planning on it. I'm on my way now. I'm just leaving Missoula."
"Have a safe trip. I'll see you tomorrow."
Jim Stafford seemed like a nice man. He encouraged me to come spend some time at Hairy's before making any decision about the long-term future of the cafe. I think I'll google him tonight and see if he has a photo on line. I wonder if he's my age or old like Uncle Harry. From Missoula to Wilkins’ Gap, I swore if the roads kept shrinking with each route change, I'd be on a cow path before I reached my destination.
There were lots of trees too, and the towns I passed through got smaller just like the roads. I knew Wilkins’ Gap was small. It had only a few thousand residents according to what I'd looked at online. Just on the edge of town, I saw a neon sign in the parking lot beside a building that looked like a log cabin. The sign said "Hairy's Cryptid Cafe".
I pulled in and drove around to the rear of the building where a staircase led up to what I figured was my new home. I turned off the car, got out, and stretched. It was chilly, so I grabbed my jacket off the passenger seat and headed around front to the café entrance.
When I pushed the door open, I was assaulted by the sounds and smells. I closed my eyes, remembering all the times I walked through the front doors of the Magnolia Tea Room back home. When I opened my eyes again, I realized just how big a change I was making. Where the tea room was light, Hairy's was dark. Instead of floral chintz, everything was dark woods.
I made my way to the bar. I could feel lots of eyes checking me out, but I tried to ignore it. I didn't exactly look my best after spending three days on the road. I just wanted to pick up the key to the apartment, take a shower, and crash.
"Is Rick working tonight?" I asked the woman behind the bar.
"Who's askin'?"
"I'm Everly Mason. I just need to get the key to the apartment from Rick."
"I’m Sally. Nice to meet you. I'll tell him," she said and disappeared into the kitchen.
I heard muffled voices in the kitchen, then the door opened, and the waitress returned following an older man wearing an apron and wiping his hands on a towel. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he wore a ski cap on his head.
"I'm Rick, the cook," he said, sticking out his hand toward me.
"Hi, Rick. It's nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand. "I'm Everly Mason."
"Sal said you were asking for the apartment key. Guess that means you're the new boss."
"Guess so," I said.
Just then the door opened letting in a stream of cold air and a huge man. Everyone in the place stopped talking. The man made his way over to where I was standing with Rick and Sally. "Who's this pretty little thing?" he asked, letting his eyes roam over my body.
"I'm Everly Mason, the new owner of Hairy's," I said.
“Oh, hell no,” he said, turning and walking back out the door. I was shocked. "Was it something I said?" I asked.
"That was Chance Munroe. Don't think you were what he expected," Rick said, dropping a key ring in my hand.
After setting up a time to meet with the staff after my meeting with the lawyer, I grabbed my necessities out of Snickety and headed upstairs. I tried not to dwell on my first opinions of the people or the place. I knew I was tired, and I hoped things would look better in the daylight.