Finding Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 1) Page 5

  “Sure, that’d be great,” she says.

  “Look, I wanted to apologize again for leaving so suddenly last night without telling you. Something kind of weird happened, and I needed to go.” Bree raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really, not here. But, anyway, you mentioned you were heading back up there tonight?”

  “Yeah, my roommate is going with me. After you left, there was a massive game of flashlight tag. It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself, though I felt about eleven years old for half an hour.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Do you want to come?”

  “Maybe later. I have, uh…plans.” I look toward the stage, and Finn is walking in our direction. Bree smiles.

  “Have fun. I hope we see you guys later.” I wave goodbye and catch up to Finn.

  “Thanks for the song,” I say.

  “What song?” Finn asks coyly. “I’m Too Sexy?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Can you even play that on a guitar?”

  “Reese, I can play anything on the guitar.” His hand brushes against mine as we walk across the lawn, and for a second I think he’s going to grab hold. “So, where would you like to go for dinner? Pizza? Bar food? Nothing but the best from me.” He laughs and runs his hand through his hair, which falls right back into place on his head in the same spot from which it started.

  “Not, pizza. I....” The thought of running into Lawson again makes me shudder. “Let’s try bar food.”

  “Good choice. We’ll go to Jack’s. They have great burgers. Wait over there while I run my guitar up to my room. I’ll be right back.” I sit down on a bench that overlooks the cobbled roads that surround the lodge. They are only made for foot traffic, and parking for patrons not staying at the lodge is in the large lot in front of the lodge. Most of the stores sell knick knacks like the store in the lodge where Murphy works, but there are higher-end things, too, like art and jewelry. I doubt I’ll even step foot in those stores, though it’s fun to peek in the windows on my way home from work. I’m staring at a whirligig outside one of the stores, meant to get people’s attention, which apparently works, when I see Harrison, the rich guy from the lodge pool coming out of the jewelry store. He’s alone, and I have a little message for him to pass along to his cousin.

  “Hey!” I yell in his direction, but about four other people all turn toward me at the same time. “Harrison!”

  “It’s you, uh, Rory,” he says, puffing his chest out like I should want to notice his pectoral muscles. I don’t.

  “Reese,” I say.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Look, I don’t have time for small talk.” I point my finger into his chest, and it deflates. “You tell your little friend Dean that if I see him, he’d better run in the other direction or he’s going to be sorry.”

  “Whoa, if this has anything to do with Tinley, you might have the wrong information. That girl was butt-wasted last night. She was making a fool out of my cousin. Nobody does that. We have a certain reputation. She’s lucky we even helped her sorry ass home and didn’t leave her in the gutter where help like that belongs.” This time I don’t even try to hold back.

  “You bastard!” Harrison’s face hitting the open palm of my hand startles both of us. “That’s from Tinley.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” asks Finn, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  “Just a little playground justice,” I say, daring Harrison to say anything.

  “This bitch better find herself a new job.”

  “Let’s go, slugger. Your dinner’s getting cold.” Finn grabs me from behind and pulls me away from Harrison. He turns back toward Harrison who is rooted to the sidewalk.

  “You have to forgive her. She gets a little nutty when she’s low on sugar.” He makes the crazy sign with his fingers.

  I’m still shaking when we sit in a booth in the back of Jack’s Bar. Finn takes both of my hands into his and rubs them with his thumb until they relax. He orders two beers and burger baskets. The background noise of the vacationers celebrating their break from everyday life is calming to my nerves. Finn doesn’t talk until our beers arrive.

  “Do you want to talk about that?”

  “I’m not a bully,” I say, swigging my beer. It’s cold and feels good going down.

  “I never said you were a bully, but I might try harder not to piss you off.” That makes me laugh because I know I have a short fuse.

  “His friend gave Tinley a black eye last night, and he was talking trash about her.” Finn takes a drink now and considers my words.

  “You’re not supposed to mix with the guests. He could really get you fired. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle.

  “Did you report it?” I shake my head no.

  “And risk being sent home for breaking the rules?” I say, sarcastically. “No way. I need to be here. I don’t have all the ans…I’m just not ready to leave, and Tinley says her parents will be pissed if she screws up and gets sent back home. That was a bonehead move, wasn’t it?”

  “Not the brightest move, but I get it. The guy is going to get away with what he did which sucks.” I shrug my shoulders in a, what are we supposed to do? look. “Well, let’s hope they check out of the lodge today.”

  “I don’t think they’re doing that any time soon. They told us that some relative is getting married here on Saturday.”

  “The Albert wedding?”

  “I have no idea what the wedding party name is.” The burgers arrive, reminding me that I am starving after the busy day.

  “I’m playing dinner music at the reception until the DJ takes over.”

  “Lucky you. Look, let’s change the subject, okay?”

  It’s been so long since I’ve had a normal conversation with someone that it feels good to let that guard down. He has lots of stories about guests like the one about the man that proposed to his girlfriend by using landscape rocks to spell out Jami, will you marry me? on the lawn. He’d played security for the guy so he wouldn’t get caught removing all the rocks from the flower beds. When she’d come out on her balcony the next morning to drink her coffee, he was waiting below, on bended knee. She’d dropped her coffee cup, shattering on the patio below and nicking an old lady on the foot. I wonder if the couple is still married. Because happily ever after isn’t real, not in my world anyway.

  “So, why did you come to Tremont Lodge and why did you stay?” I ask, not wanting my question to seem like a judgment.

  “My parents grew up in Colorado where learning to ski ranks up there with learning how to walk. When they got married, though, my dad’s computer job moved him all around the country. I went to seven elementary schools. Mom gave Dad an ultimatum that we had to settle in one spot for four years so I could go to high school without having to be uprooted.”

  “That’s cool of her,” I say.

  “Yeah, but they fought all the time about where we should put down roots. You’ll never guess how they decided.”

  “Surprise me.” I tangle my hair around my finger and lean back in the booth, entertained by the natural-born storyteller across from me.

  “They pulled out a map of the US. Dad told Mom to close her eyes. He spun her around a bunch of times and told her to point at the map.”

  “No way.” I lean back into the table. Finn does, too, and he grabs hold of my hand.

  “Yep. We moved to the upper peninsula of Michigan three weeks later.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing she didn’t stray east to Detroit.” He laughs, and the butterfly on his neck rises and falls.

  “Anyway, Tremont Lodge and a couple of other resorts became our weekend retreat. I spent a lot of time here. You could say I kind of fell in love with this place, and after I got my associate degree at a community college, I decided to use my business degree by begging for money to fly into my guitar case.”


  “That is the best story ever,” I say. I pick the label off my second bottle of beer and hand it to Finn.

  “What’s this for?” he asks.

  “A raincheck,” I say.

  “For?”

  “Well, the real story goes that if a girl gives you her beer label, you’ll get lucky, but let’s save it for something a bit tamer.” Finn lets go of my hand and rubs his chin, hiding his mouth behind his hand. I wonder if I’ve said too much, but he has a huge grin when he puts his hand down on the table.

  “Do we have to save it?”

  “Yep. I’m supposed to meet Bree at the top of the mountain tonight.”

  “Can I go with you?” he asks. I put my hand over my heart and realize I need to pull the top of my dress up—and that my heart is beating quickly.

  “There’s…there’s something I need to do when I’m there, and it might seem weird to you, so maybe you don’t—.”

  “I do. I will.” He stammers his reply. “Can’t be any weirder than starting this date with you face palming another guy, could it?” I smile. Talking with Finn is like putting on a comfy pair of pajamas on the coldest winter day. Easy. Familiar.

  After Finn pays the bill and I leave the tip, we walk towards the employee chair lift. There is a steady murmur of conversation coming from the lodge grounds. This is what relaxation sounds like. I can understand why Finn couldn’t stay away.

  “So, what’s it like with the constant turnover of staff?” I ask as we climb aboard the ski lift. He slings his arm over the back of the chair, his fingers grazing my shoulder.

  “I like it. There’s never a dull moment, and usually a pretty predictable pattern develops.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every June the new staff arrives. They party crazy the first few weeks. There’s a lot of hormones flying around setting off radar as both sexes size each other up. Lots of great summer relationships end in heartache come August, but, dare I say, some of life’s best memories are created in a summer at the Tremont.”

  “And you’re privy to your own summer relationships?” I ask, not sure why a pang of jealousy goes off in my head.

  “I’ve had some good times, if that’s what you mean.” I don’t say anything, suddenly feeling like the next summer-conquest-in-waiting. “Reese? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “What about you? Is the Tremont everything you expected it to be?” I sigh as I watch a couple on the twin ziplines below us trying to race each other to the end of their lines.

  “It’s nothing like I thought it would be at all,” I answer truthfully. Now we’re at the top of the mountain. I don’t miss my dismount this time.

  “I’ll get us some drinks. Do you want anything special?” Finn asks.

  “Something tame,” I say.

  Bree is playing horseshoes in a pit a few feet from the old restaurant. She calls out to me. I wave. “Want to play?” she asks. I start to say no when I hear Lawson from behind me.

  “She’ll play because she has an unbeatable partner.” I scrunch up my face in a most unflattering way, I’m sure.

  “You will not tell me what I will or will not do.”

  “Whoa, tiger, settle down. I was only joking, but I am pretty damn good. There’s a horseshoe tournament at the end of the summer. The winners get their names on a plaque that’s hanging inside over there.” He points to the building. You should see for yourself. My name’s been on that plaque for the last three years, and no doubt it will be back after this summer, too, no matter who my partner is.”

  “If it doesn’t matter who your partner is, then it won’t matter that I’m turning you down.”

  “That’s okay, the tournament isn’t until August. You’ll change your mind by then.” Lawson puts his arm around a redhead who puts her hand on his butt in return, turning to glare at me as if to say back off. I couldn’t care less who Lawson partners with.

  I walk into the old restaurant, looking for the bathroom. I pass the tattered booths, all of them having seen better days, and imagine what this room must have been like in its heyday. Bustling wait staff running between the crowded tables, serving drinks and bringing heaping plates of piping hot food, nothing but the finest meats and fish with in-season vegetables and baskets of bread. Guests would be dressed in their Sunday finest, and laughter—lots of laughter—would have filled the room. I sink into the closest booth, rest my head against the wall, and close my eyes. I squeeze them shut and try to force a memory. Surely, I’ve been here before. Surely, we were a happy family once. Why did it end? Why did my parents abandon Blake and me at Tremont Lodge? Where did my family go?

  “Reese?” I hear my name, but it’s whispered like from another dimension, not sinking into my reality. I take a deep breath and blow it out through my mouth. A light touch on my arm makes me shudder. I open my eyes.

  “Oh, man, Finn, I’m sorry. This must…I must look…sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Reese. I know you said you had something to do here. Does…does being in the old restaurant have to do with that?” He sets a glass of lemonade in front of me.

  “Kind of. Maybe. I’m not really sure what I’m doing, Finn.” My chest feels tight like I can’t catch my breath. I try to breathe deeply through my nose again, but I can’t. Instead it feels like I am suffocating with my inability to breathe normally. I know I’m having a panic attack. It’s happened before. In fact, for years the attacks have been sporadic and at the most unexpected times, like in third grade right before the school play where I acted the part of a colonial mother. Grandma had rushed backstage and made me breathe into a paper bag, but I’d been too upset to deliver my lines, so my teacher read my lines from offstage. Then at eighth grade graduation, right before my name was called, I’d run out the back door of the gym behind the stage because I thought I might throw up in front of everyone. The diploma had been delivered the next morning by the principal. Then during that trip to Spain my junior year, I’d had a panic attack going through customs thinking they weren’t going to let me back into the country and I’d be abandoned…again. No amount of therapy has been able to stop the attacks, but they have lessened—until lately when the stress of the possibility of the unknown is sometimes too great to bear. I grab the lemonade and start drinking, concentrating on each swallow as if to trick my brain into thinking that my life is normal, that nothing evil or sad lurks under the surface, buried from my own ability to remember for whatever reason.

  When I finish the lemonade, I realize I am leaning on Finn’s chest. His heartbeat echoes in my ear, the rhythm comforting. He is stroking my hair. “Oh, Finn. I am so sorry. I should leave.” I try to get up, but I feel dizzy. He pulls me back down.

  “You have nothing to feel sorry for. And you’re not going anywhere alone.”

  “Then let me go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.” Finn’s face reads of worry and concern.

  “Promise me you won’t go sneaking off.” I nod my head and walk toward the bathroom. In the hallway I pass the horseshoe tournament plaque with Lawson’s name at the top along with a different girl for each of the last three years. Then, right before the bathroom, I see a line of old pictures from Tremont Lodge. The first few pictures are of this restaurant, proving the theory that this was once a bustling hub of activity and joy. I look closer, trying to read the faces of the happy guests and trying to understand why they no longer use the restaurant with the great view of the valley below. Then I see something in one of the pictures that sets panic on fire within my chest. It seizes hold of my body as a sensation of falling overwhelms me.

  “What if we throw water in her face?” I hear a distant voice that keeps getting louder.

  “That’s just what they do in the movies.”

  “Well, you have to do something, Finn.”

  “REESE! WAKE UP!” Someone shakes my shoulders, and I blink my eyes wide open.

  “Thank goodness.” It’s Bree, and she is crouching over me with a pa
nicked look on her face.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “You tell us,” says Finn, who helps me to a sitting position. “Did you even make it to the bathroom?” he asks.

  “The bathroom?” Then I remember, and I look up from the floor to the pictures that hang on the wall above us. Bree follows my gaze.

  “What is it, Reese?” she says. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I think I did,” I whisper. If a hundred rocks were being thrown at me right now, they couldn’t cause more pain than what I’m feeling in my head. I try to stand up but feel the energy drained from my legs. Finn bends over my feet and takes off my wedge sandals.

  “Maybe heels weren’t a great idea,” he says.

  “You should have seen the shoes Tinley wanted me to wear,” I say.

  “I could only imagine,” he grins. Then he turns to Bree. “I’ll make sure Reese gets back to her room. Thanks for getting me when you found her.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Reese?” she says.

  “Bree, go. This is all so stupid. I never should have involved any of you in my mess. Just go. Have fun. I’ll see you on the elevator in the morning.” She smiles, nods her head, and leaves us sitting against the wall in the hallway to the bathroom. People pass by with odd looks, but I don’t really care. I’ve just found the first proof that I’ve been seeking—that I’ve been to this restaurant before. But now what?

  “Let’s try getting you up again, okay?” asks Finn. He puts an arm under my elbow and gently stands up. I brace my hand against the other wall. The pounding in my head rattles around before settling into a dull ache behind my right temple. I stare past Finn to the picture on the wall behind him. “Tell me.” He whispers in my ear, so close that I shiver involuntarily and goosebumps pop out on my arm. I shake my head no. “Please, Reese.” I squeeze my eyes tight because I don’t want to start crying.