Later that evening we went back to Jeff and Jodi’s place; a nicely allocated parsonage on the hill behind the church. We listened to stories and shared a bit of our own for the better part of the evening.
It was enlightening to hear some of the history of some of these fascinating folks. And fascinating to discover how parallel are the stories of the Helpmans and ours.
The salt trucks had finally made their way down the road to our cabin. Maybe we could finally get our van up the hill. Jim and Judy were heading that direction so we asked for a ride to our car. But when we got there I realized my keys were at the cabin.
They graciously agreed to drive us since it was only less than a mile from their house. Good idea. We’d get to see the road conditions all the way there and have a better sense of how our van would handle it. When we got to the cabin I reached in my pocket for the cabin keys and found nothing. I’d left them in my coat pocket which I just realized had gotten left back at the Helpmans.
Jim and Judy drove us back to get my coat and then again back to the cabin. By this time it was pointless to have them take us back to our car and then drive our car back to the cabin. So we said goodbye and thank you and scheduled a ride for the morning.
As I was locking up the cabin before bed I made an embarrassing discovery… the front door had been unlocked the whole time.