Page 79 of Seducing Sasquatch

Hanging from the far wall where the staircase leads to the second floor, a skull and antlers look down at us. But as my gaze sweeps through the house, I find frame after frame of family photos. Knitted blankets cover the couches, woven baskets of board games and books are tucked neatly into corners, and lamps of all kinds fill the empty spaces. I’ve never been in a house that felt so…homey.

“You okay?” Arden whispers, clutching my hand. “Want a drink?”

I nod. “I like your parents’ house. It’s cozy.”

Arden smiles at me as he pulls out a seat at the kitchen island. “This is our family home. It holds lots of memories.”

He leaves me to open the fridge for refreshments when his mom slides me a piece of buttered bread.

“I made it just this morning. Take the first taste.” She winks.

I eye the bread. Still steaming with melted butter and flakes of salt, my mouth waters. I’ve never had fresh bread before. Taking the slice with shaky hands, I bite into the crispy edge.

“Oh, wow.” I take another bite, filling my mouth to the brim. The flavor, the texture. It’s amazing!

Sadie chuckles, smiling at me. “I’ll take it as a success.”

Arden pours us two glasses of lemonade from a plastic jug and steals the bread right from my grasp.

With one bite, he downs the slice. “Good bread, Mom,” he says, putting the jug back in the fridge.

I roll my eyes, sipping from my lemonade. Even this tastes homemade. In fact, as Sadie starts filling the kitchen counter with dishes, from steamed and roasted veg to perfectly baked ham and juicy turkey, I realize everything here has been made with love.

I’ve never seen so much food made by a single person. Usually, when my father threw dinners for his associates, there was a team of chefs and caterers all working together to make dishes I couldn’t even pronounce.

The sound of the front door opening echoes through the peaceful kitchen. “We’re here!” someone yells with a giggle. The sound of many footsteps reverberates through the cabin and I find myself staring at a group of Sasquatches in all shapes and sizes. The two tallest give me wide smiles where three miniature Sasquatches begin playfully climbing over the furniture.

“Oh, my god! Finally!” I’m engulfed in a hug, pressing the air from my lungs with a whoosh. “I’m Katie. Arden’s cousin. I’ve heard so much about you from Auntie Sadie.” Katie practically pulls me from my seat, holding me against her chest as she spins us in circles.

My world tilts as she sets me down on my two feet. I have to shake my head to orient myself.

Katie points over her shoulder. “This is my wife, Noelle and our three gremlins who have somehow disappeared.” She begins floundering around the cabin looking for her children who have, indeed, vanished into thin air, only leaving little echoes of laughter from the floor above.

Noelle dips her chin with a nod. Her fur is almost black compared to Arden and his mother's golden-brown tones. And as she turns to help Katie, I catch a glimpse of white speckles dotting her back.

“Where’s Dad?” Arden slinks an arm around my waist, pulling me against his chest and shoving yet another slice of buttered bread into his mouth.

With a potato masher in hand, Sadie responds, “Out chopping more wood. He’ll be back soon.”

“Good, I’m starving,” Arden hums.

I scoff, “You never stop eating.”

That gets a good laugh from his mom who adds a splash of milk to the mix and a handful of grated cheese. “Which is why I’m making enough food to feed a small village.”

Squeals and laughter fill the cabin as Arden’s cousins chase down their kids. It’s a sound I haven’t heard much of. Of course, being an only child to two only children, I never had cousins to grow up with. But the sound of their laughter warms something in my heart.

Somewhere at the other end of the cabin, the sound of footsteps echoes. Ones much heavier than Katie or Noelle’s. Stomping through the house, another extremely large Sasquatch appears with chunks of wood under his arm and glasses perched on his nose.

“Ah! Hello!” He announces with a wide smile. Plonking the logs beside the crackling fire, he dusts his hands on his worn work pants and adjusts his khaki shirt before wandering over to the kitchen. Holding out his large palm to me, he smiles warmly, “Pleasure to meet you, son. Call me John.”

I take his hand in mine, letting the huge guy shake it gently. “Blake, nice to meet you too.” I barely hear myself speak as my brain gets tangled in his words.

Pleasure to meet you, son.

My father’s never said anything like it before. Never announced his approval or support. Never told me how proud he is or consoled me when I failed. Yet this man, who’s clearly Arden’s dad by just how similar they look, has already called me his son.

“Ready to eat?” John asks, clapping his hands together. “And where are those pesky children?”