Precious Freedom

The entire thing was his idea. I was never much for fresh air—sunshine. People always asked how it is we got together, because we're so different. It was three days before the wedding, and James wanted us all to meet—commiserate—before he took the final plunge. Men. If only they understood how we were just as terrified of losing our precious freedom as much as they were. Afraid of being trapped. James led a small caravan to a cabin nestled in the hills of the pacific northwest forest. The air had that earthen pine smell that almost stung your nose.
His brother Casey tagged along in his Rav-4 with his eager-to-please wife at his side.
I wrestled from underneath my seatbelt and shuffled out of our mini-van. Casey just slammed his door. James grinned like the Red Sox scored a home run when he embraced his brother in his arms. I forced a smile when Abbey, Casey's wife, took my hand.
"What are you worried about?" she asked me.
"It's just half an hour," I replied.
She gazed at me puzzled.
"The store that's all the way down the end of the road." I pulled my coat closed.
"Do you think we're going to need more supplies?" she asked.
"If I know James, we never had enough."
The boys, tangled at the shoulders, greeted us.
"Who's ready for some well deserved R&R?" James announced so loud he could be heard above the trees.
We all lugged our suitcases up the winding foliage covered pathway to the porch of the rustic and picturesque cottage. It was owned by James' parents, a summer home that's been passed down like a homely heirloom. James waved us all in one by one.
"Let's get inside."
The air wasn't exactly stale, just dead. I gripped two rollers in my hand and steered towards the master bedroom.
James followed right after, when I got inside he shut the door behind us.
"Nicole, you want to make something to eat?" James asked me as he tightly gripped my hips. He defiantly coursed his hands up my shirt and breathed against my neck.
"I'm starving."