The Pucking Girl Next Door (Power Play Off The Ice: Snowed in for the Hoildays)

4. Annabelle

Chapter 4

Annabelle

A fter hanging up the phone with my mom, I pull into the long driveway, looking up at the large house that imitates a rustic log cabin with a huge wrap-around porch. It's one of the biggest houses in the area. When our parents were questioned by my siblings or I, they would always say they wanted a home that all of their grandchildren could stay in with them.

Which at the time seemed ridiculous because I was only fourteen, and even though I was the youngest of five, we were all in a place that seemed as if kids were far away. Now though, it doesn't seem that way.

After coming here to visit for an anniversary trip, they fell in love with the small mountain town and moved from Rose Valley to Ember Bend. When I pointed out that we already lived in a small town, their response was, "Yes, but this is in the mountains."

It seemed dumb at the time, but after being here a few years, I knew they were right. It's magical. That magical feeling is the whole reason I moved back after college. Plus, I want kids. When I was younger, there was always someone around, something going on, and I loved it. I never felt left out, and I want to make sure my family has those feelings. I hope to eventually be surrounded by family as they grow up.

Looking out at the immaculately kept yard surrounding the log cabin, covered in snow with patches of grass peeking out, I smile as I imagine my fictional children running around with my two older sisters who also live here with their kids, grabbing handfuls of snow to create snowballs to peg each other with. During the season, my brother comes home from whatever team he's playing on with his beautiful wife Kayla and kids in tow, so we can celebrate Christmas together.

Shaking my head of the imaginary dream, because honestly, I'm not sure that's how my life will turn out no matter how much my mother wills it. I don't even have a partner and finding one seems impossible with how much I work. Maybe she's right, and I need to find another job. As much as I love to work and have goals I want to achieve within my career, I also want to have a family. I shouldn't have to choose between my career and a family. Women can have both.

Parking my car at the garage of the main house, I turn off the engine. I would've walked from my house, but the ground is a little slippery from the snow we got last week. With the heat turned off, I tighten my wool coat around me because it's freezing with the new storm that is supposed to blow in on the horizon.

My stomach growls, reminding me that right now is not the time to contemplate how my life isn't going exactly where I want it to, but time to eat. Getting out of my car carefully, I trudge over to the panel sitting on the wall and enter the code to open up the garage.

When the door opens, I somewhat expect to hear my mom's voice chastising me, "Annabelle, what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you?"

"Do I need a reason? I just wanted to come see you," I always say as sweetly as possible, even though she always knows the deal.

She always rolls her eyes and comes back at me with, "Oh, don't lie to me, young lady, you came to eat."

"Well, if you have anything to spare?" I would always answer giving her a coy smirk, and then we’d both laugh.

But nope, not today. The memory reminds me that everyone is together in the Bahamas, and I'm here. Trying not to dwell on it and hoping that I'll be there tomorrow before the storm hits, I make my way toward the kitchen that's just down the hall.

This house is ridiculous, but the kitchen is on another level. With a vast island that sits in the middle and outside walls that are all counter space, it always feels cozy when we're all here, but empty, it always seems sad. There is something about being in a large house all alone. A shiver runs down my spine, I've always been a scaredy cat. It's something my siblings have always teased me about when I was younger, and I must admit sometimes even now as an adult. It normally doesn't matter or even creep into my mind until I'm in some freaking situation like this alone in a large house, noises coming out from nowhere. Not wanting to be here longer than necessary, I open the stainless-steel refrigerator that sits on the farthest wall and begin pulling out containers of leftovers.

Bang.

"What the hell?" I mutter as I jump right out of my skin. Placing my hand on my chest, I try to remind myself something probably just fell. I pause for a moment to see if I hear anything else, because I'm definitely not going up there to check it out. When I hear nothing else, I continue to look through the leftovers, but a little quicker, you know, just in case.

Bang.

When another loud sound comes from upstairs, I grab whatever leftovers I've pulled out and get the hell out of there. I'll figure something out when I get home. Sprinting quickly out of the kitchen and through the garage, I just hope I closed the fridge as I slide into the car, closing the door quickly.

Once I'm in the car, I make sure to lock the doors because you never know if the sound was a murderer. My heart racing, I try to take a deep breath, praying that whatever sound I heard wasn't anything too bad, or it at least stays where it needs to stay at my parents' house.

Putting my car in drive, I drive farther down the driveway toward my little abode the one that is a very much smaller version of the large house but makes me feel safe and sound hoping that tomorrow will be better. It has to be, right?