Freeing Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 3) (2 page)

“How long do we have to stay?” he whispers so lightly into my ear it tickles, and I shiver.

“The bitter end,” I say, reaching up to kiss him softly on the lips.

“Really? Can’t you delegate? You did such a great job setting everything up to run smoothly without you being here in the beginning. Can’t you do the same to close down this party without your being here?”

“Maybe. Why? What did you have in mind?” He answers by pulling me closer if that’s even possible and running his hands down my back, grazing the top of my butt as the song switches to
All of Me
by John Legend.

“Lawson! What the hell are you doing?” I jump at the sound of the screaming woman next to us:
Georgia
. Lawson has one hand on her and one hand on her date. The guy looks pissed. I mean, why wouldn’t he? He was practically a shoo-in for taking this girl home for the night, right? He takes a swing at Lawson who ducks just in time to send the guy’s fist into Georgia’s face. Finn releases me in time to catch Georgia and stop her from falling to the floor. “My eye!
My eye!
”

“Reese, get the girl some ice!” Finn says, lowering Georgia to the floor. By this time Lawson and the guy are going at it, each landing successful punches as evidenced by the blood that is spraying the dance floor around me. Jeremy and Connor are rushing to the dance floor to try to break up the mayhem before someone gets killed. I run to the kitchen to get ice but meet Helen halfway there.

“Here, honey, take this to the poor girl,” she says, handing me a bag of ice. Yeah,
poor girl,
right.

Most of the guests have left by now. It didn’t take long after the melee to send people scurrying for the door. This wasn’t a simple fight. Lawson was angry, fueled by the intoxication of something that he’d only recently sworn to me he’d finished. Right now he’s sitting in the corner of the room, a self-imposed time-out of sorts with his own bag of ice on his right cheek. Georgia is gone, whisked away to who knows where, by the same guy that caused Lawson’s rage. Thank God no one called the cops. That’s the last thing I needed was the cops being called to the annual, sweet, lovely,
always calm,
Tremont Lodge Christmas Ball, the first year I’m put in charge.

Finn walks toward me away from Lawson where he’s been for the last twenty minutes with Jeremy. Bree is stewing in the kitchen where she’s kicked off her heels to pitch in and help wash dishes. “He doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Finn says before I can ask.

“Well, I don’t give a damn what he wants. He owes me an explanation as to why he’s decided to ruin the biggest night of the year for the lodge. This is what people will remember about our local
thank you
to them. What kind of message do you think the lodge is sending? And what if the guests get word about this fight? Then what? I’ll tell you what! They will be scared of the lodge and think it’s not a safe family destination. Pretty soon no one will want to come here, and the lodge will lose money, and then it will have to close, and…and—it will all be Lawson’s fault because he had to think with his pants instead of that pea brain knocking around inside his head!”

“Whoa, I think you’re being a little melodramatic, no?”

“NO!”

“Maybe just a little?” Finn jabs my side, finding that spot where I can’t help but squirm and giggle, which makes me madder because I
do not want to giggle
right now!

“Fine! But he’d be mostly responsible. Georgia gets the rest of the blame! And I’m talking to him anyway. And you can’t stop me!” I shake off Finn’s protective hand which has been trying to pull me in close to grab a kiss, and stomp toward Lawson, stopping only to pull up my dress, a flashback to high school popping into my head again.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I yell into his ear, hoping that his presumed splitting headache doubles in size.

“Shut up, Reese.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You ruined this night—this perfect night!”

“Why do you care?”

“You’re leaving in a couple of months anyway, remember?” He looks up, pressing the bag of ice back into his right cheek.

“All the more reason to leave my legacy at the lodge intact,” I say.

“Your
legacy?
Really?”

“Oh! You are so infuriating! Why did you have to go and sleep with the boss’ girlfriend and then get pissed when she drops her panties for some other guy that comes along? I mean, are you really surprised? Seriously?”

“Shut the hell up,
Reese
. I swear I’m going to blow again if you talk about Georgia like that.”

Something about the way he says my name, short and staccato,
REESE,
makes me scared, and I close my mouth before continuing with my line of thinking. We both turn toward the door to the ballroom as it crashes open, slamming shut behind the new party guest who is walking with heavy steps in our direction. And I wish my silver sparkly shoes would turn red and I could click my heels and disappear…because Ted Oakley is
not
someone either of us wants to talk to right now.

“Hello, Mr. Oakley,” says Finn.

Ted barely glances his direction as he turns toward Lawson and me. “What the hell did you do to scar the reputation of my Christmas ball?” yells Ted, both hands shaking violently, even the one holding onto his cane.

“Look, Ted, let me explain. It was a lovely evening. Most of the guests had a wonderful time. I can assure you that no detail was left unattended to…”

“Then why have I received over twenty…
twenty
…calls about the chaos that just ensued? I damn near called the cops myself to see what was going on in a room in my own home. Yes,
home
. Tremont Lodge is my home, and it could be the lifetime home to the two of you screw-ups if you’d pull your heads out of your assess and start acting like mature human beings and not—not animals!”

I can feel my face get hot as the blood rushes there in a fireball of anger. I busted my butt to make this ball perfect. And it was. Until Lawson showed up. To be lumped with him as the cause of this debacle is infuriating. “Ted, I understand your frustration. But directing your anger at me really isn’t fair. I’ll leave you and Lawson alone to talk.” I turn back toward the kitchen. I expect Finn is following me.

“You are both on administrative leave, effective immediately,” says Ted.

I turn around slowly. “What?”

“Yes, you heard me. You and Lawson. Both of you. Take a break. Give me a chance to get my head on straight. I’m sure there will be reporters here by tomorrow sniffing around for a statement. I sure as hell don’t want the two of you giving any version of your story.”

Lawson doesn’t move, other than to shift his bag of ice to the other side of his face. “You can’t do that,” I say. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What’s the matter, Reese? Can’t believe your daddy could still punish you after all these years?” Lawson sneers, daring me to darken his growing black eye.

“Enough, Lawson. You’re more of a child to me that Reese will ever be, and you, of all people, should be appreciative of all of the chances I’ve given you.”

I just stand here like I’m invisible listening to the slurs and personal attacks, wondering why I even cared about this place if I’m not appreciated. Finn puts his arm on my waist and gives me a gentle push toward the door.

“Let’s go,” he whispers into my ear. “Come on, Reese.”

I slip off my shoes and stomp with as much force as I can muster toward the outside door of the ballroom which leads onto the covered lawn. I wait for Finn to pick me up and carry me down the sidewalk and over the brick road back to the dormitory I’ve called home for six months, no matter what Ted says. This place
has
been like a home. How dare he!
How dare he!

Finn deposits me on the floor in my room and turns the heat up. Then he opens my dresser drawer and pulls out my favorite fleece pajamas. “Here. Put these on. You’ll feel better. I’m going to my room to change. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay? I’ll stay here tonight.”

“No!”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

“No. I mean,
yes
, I want you to stay, but I’m not staying. I’m going home. My grandmother died. Blake needs me.”

“Reese, come on. We talked about this. You’re leaving tomorrow. You are not driving this late at night in your state of mind.”

“I sure as hell am. If you don’t like it, then come with me, but I’m going.” I pull my duffle bag out from under my bed and start throwing clothes inside. What do you wear to a funeral? Do you still have to wear black?

“Wait. You…you want me to come with you?” Finn says.

I grab a black skirt and a green silk shirt out from the back of my closet. I stop to look at him. “Of course. You’re my boyfriend. Why wouldn’t I want you to go?”

“You’ve just never talked seriously about introducing me to your family.”

“Well, there’s not a lot of family to introduce you to—just my brother and grandfather. But, yeah, I want you to come. I
need
you to come.”

Finn takes the clothes from my hands and lays them on the bed, careful not to wrinkle them. “I love you, Reese. And all the crap that’s swirling around in your head right now—I want to be the one to make it all be okay. You have to trust me.”

His eyes are moist, and I’m not sure I can stand seeing him look like he’s about to cry. “Look who’s being the melodramatic one now,” I say. “It’s a funeral, Finn. It’s not like I’m taking you to a family reunion.” I smile with only half my face, so he knows it’s okay to laugh, and when he does I melt a little more.

“Would it be inappropriate if I helped you get undressed?” he whispers into my hair. “You are in a hurry after all.”

“It would be highly inappropriate, Finn.” He nuzzles my face with the stubble on his face, which he let grow a little longer than he should have—just because he knows it drives me wild. I reach out and touch his butterfly and think of those that walked the path of life before me, all of those that have shaped me and molded me, for good or bad, but all who made who I am. And I wrap my arms around Finn and kiss him with the emotion I’ve been failing miserably to keep suppressed. And when he hangs up my skirt and blouse and pushes everything else off the bed and lays me down gently in the pile of messed up blankets, I let him.

Blake holds open the screen door of the house for Finn and me when we arrive at my grandparent’s farm, my family home since the age of five when my parents abandoned us. When we are inside the house, Blake grabs hold of me and hugs me so tight I feel like I could suffocate. He swallows a sob which is totally unlike the congenial, silly little brother I know. Death is a bitch.

“It’s good to have you home, Reese,” he says, pulling himself together for the sake of my guest.

“This is Finn, Blake.” They exchange pleasantries in the form of a handshake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Blake,” says Finn, smiling. He’s wearing the new argyle sweater I bought him when I went shopping with Bree in Traverse City. I still can’t believe he’s standing in my home. There was rarely a guy in high school who I’d bring home and no one from college. The realization that my summer fling has more legs to stand on than I could have ever thought possible is just a little bit scary and also exhilarating.

“Where’s Grandpa?” I ask. Blake points toward the living room. I follow him there with Finn trailing behind.

Grandpa is sitting in his recliner watching
Wheel of Fortune,
his feet propped up on the footstool of his recliner. Pat Sajak’s voice is echoing off the walls as he declares,
There are no R’s.
The crowd sighs, and the next contestant spins the wheel. “Hi, Grandpa,” I say. He barely glances my direction.

“Hey, Grandpa. Can Reese and I…and her friend Finn watch the end of the show with you?” asks Blake, ever the peacemaker. He shifts his eyes sideways at Blake as if giving him permission.

We sit in silence until the show is over, the final contestant missing the puzzle at the end that would have given him $25000.
Ooh. Ahh.
Even I could have figured it out, too. Famous person.
Mother Teresa.
Who couldn’t get
Mother Teresa?
More like,
stupiiiddd, idiotttttt…
This is ridiculous. My grandmother died. We have to talk about it. I’m not suffering through
Jeopardy
next. I grab the remote and shut off the television. That causes a reaction, though not the one I’d hoped for.

“Turn that damn television back on right now, you spoiled brat.” Darts of accusations hit their bull’s-eye mark, right in my gut, and I drop the remote to the floor where it crashes against the 100-year-old wood.

“No,” I say simply. “I want to talk about Grandma.” Finn squeezes my knee for encouragement, or, perhaps, as a warning. “I know you’re upset. I get that. I’ve lost people, too, you know? But I’d like to talk about what happened. I’d like to know about the services. I’d like to do something other than waste away watching stupid rerun game shows!”

“Mr. Prentice, my name is Finn. I’m really sorry about the loss of your wife.” It’s just like Finn to try to smooth out my ruffles, but, whatever. At least I know someone in the room cares. “I’ve heard a lot of great things about her.”

Grandpa cocks his head ever so slightly in our direction. Blake gets up and leaves the room. “Oh, really?
Really?
Reese told you lots of good stories about the woman who put her life on hold to raise her? Now, did she really?”

“I…um…”

“Yes, exactly. She poisoned you with her point of view. That’s just like Reese, never thinking that others have feelings, too.”

“That’s not true! I didn’t come home to be attacked. It’s not my fault my mother got pregnant by a man who didn’t want me, or that your son chose to raise me as his own until he hurt my mother, intentionally or not, and then left me to figure it all out on my own after her death.
It’s not my fault! Quit blaming me!
” A glass shatters to the floor, echoing louder than the remote control, and I look up in time to see Blake grabbing his jacket and running out the front door, his innocent youth now shattered into a million more pieces than the shards of glass on the living room floor.

“There you go, Reese. Keep hurting the people who love you,” says Grandpa.

Finn stands up. “Look, Mr. Prentice, I really am sorry for your loss. But you are being a bit of a jerk. Excuse me, Sir. Reese came here to pay her respects to her grandmother and to offer support to you and Blake. You’re the only one causing more pain and hurt.”

“Finn, stop. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, except for Blake. I need to find him.” I grab my jacket from the back of the couch. “Do you mind waiting here…and picking up the glass?” I ask.

“He’s not welcome here, either. I’ll pick up the damn glass myself. Just go back to your new home, and quit stirring the pot.”

I take a deep breath. “Fine. If that’s how you really feel—”

I bat away the tears that threaten to fall as I head down the long drive to the main road that leads into town where I hope to track down Blake. One final glance in the rearview mirror, and I wonder if I’ll ever see my childhood home again.

Finn doesn’t talk as we drive down Lake Street in Bridgman. I can’t imagine what he must be thinking, and I’m mortified with everything that just happened. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was waking up to my toxicity, too, and deciding how to get back to the lodge without having to take me with him. I drive to the end of Lake Street, which blends lazily into the spacious parking lot of Weko Beach, the premier beach along west Michigan’s coast if you ask anyone who lives in Bridgman. Nestled between busy New Buffalo and St. Joseph, Bridgman’s beach is a lesser known secret with beaches of fine sand that beckon residents to walk its shoreline in the hunt for colored beach glass or rocks of unusual shapes or to play volleyball with friends, the powdered sand breaking your fall, but Blake isn’t on the beach. It’s December. The beach is covered with snow and fences, and the wind blowing over from Chicago is chilling to the bone. No, Blake is in the beach house thawing his heart with a cup of hot chocolate, extra whipped cream. He’d told me in a recent text, that for the first time in twenty years, city officials had decided to grant the Bridgman Café owners the permission to extend their operating license into the off-season, and from the look of all the cars in the parking lot, there are many people other than my brother who seek solace in the view here. The water that isn’t frozen is being whipped by the wind in the waves in a frothy frenzy of nerves, lapping against the old intake that pretties up the beach with a mural of Weko Beach painted by a local artist. When Blake and I were little, my grandparents had a tradition of taking Blake’s picture next to the intake to show how much he grew from year to year. I never questioned why they didn’t want to take similar pictures of me—perhaps since I’m no blood relation they don’t give a damn. Of course that all makes sense now, but to a little kid, you can’t help but notice when favorites are being played. At least Blake reaped the reward for my shunning. I’d be the sacrificial lamb for him if I had to. He’s an innocent victim.

Blake is sitting in a corner of the room closest to the fake fireplace that puts off a light glow in the dimly lit room, a cloudy day filtering the sun from shining in the floor to ceiling windows. I stop Finn at the door. “Hey, do you mind grabbing a couple of hot chocolates for us and hanging out at the counter for a few minutes before bringing them over? I want to talk to Blake alone first.”

“No problem, Reese. Take as much time as you need.”

If Blake senses me standing behind his chair, he doesn’t acknowledge me. “Hi, Blake,” I say. He doesn’t turn around. “Look, I’m sure you’re confused by all that…stuff at the farm. I never wanted you to find out…”

Blake’s face is red from crying when he turns around, tears still dried to his cheeks. He looks like a little boy trapped in a grown man’s body, and it breaks my heart. “How long have you known—all that stuff about our mother and father, or your father or whatever it all means?”

“I learned a lot this summer at the lodge.”

“What does the lodge have to do with anything?”

I sigh. “It’s really a very long, complicated story.”

“I have the time.” He motions for me to sit down next to him, and I wave Finn back to the table.

I am exhausted after I am done talking. Speaking our story aloud in all its grim truth is almost as painful as learning it all the first time. It’s like putting a nail in a coffin, making it all the more real. Blake nods his head a lot and listens, rarely stopping me to ask questions. “So, tell me something, Blake,” I say when I’ve told him everything I know. “You never wondered why our grandparents were raising us?”

Blake runs his hand through his hair and tucks a lock behind his ear in a cool surfer dude move. “To tell you the truth, I never knew it was weird to not have parents. When we had to make Mother’s Day cards in school, I always had a teacher whispering in my ear to make a nice card for Grandma, or when the boys on my Little League baseball team had their dads coaching, I’d see Grandpa standing by the fence, willing to shag balls if more help was needed. I never felt like I was missing anything. Grandpa and Grandma were Mom and Dad. It worked because they gave me everything I needed. I had no idea why you didn’t appreciate that—if I’m being completely honest.”

“I never felt like they filled the roles of a mom and dad. I didn’t understand until recently how much they resented me for taking their son away.”

“So, this guy that you thought was your father—he’s really my dad?”

“He is, Blake.”

“And he’s alive and doesn’t want anything to do with me?” He looks like he might cry again.

“I don’t think that’s true at all, Blake. I think he felt the same way you did—that you didn’t miss anything with our grandparents filling that parental role—so why rock the boat, you know?”

“Or risk getting arrested for murder,” he says.

“I suppose there’s that possibility.”

“Do you think he killed our…our mom?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think it happened as he described, just a bad accident, but we’ll never know.”

“Are you going to tell him that his mom died?” Blake plays with the paper wrapper from his stirring straw.

“I…I never considered that. I do have his email. I probably should contact him.”

“So, what’s there to do for fun around here?” Leave it to Finn to offer some desperately needed comic relief.

“There’re some pretty cool hills back in the dunes. We could go sledding,” says Blake.

“Too bad I didn’t bring my snow pants,” I say sarcastically, sledding never having been a favorite pastime.

“No worries. The café has snow rental equipment: sleds, goggles, boots, even snow pants.” He smiles, the Blake I love so much devilishly shining through.

“Then it’s settled,” says Finn, slamming his hand on the plastic table, making all of our hot chocolates jump in the air. “We’re going sledding.”

“Let me call Hannah first, if you don’t mind. She can bring you an extra pair of gloves and a hat, too, Reese. You’ll really like her. I just know it.”

“How can I refuse?” Finn pulls my chair closer to his and plants a kiss on my cheek. “What’s that for?” I ask, when Blake gets up to call Hannah in private, probably to tell her about his crazy sister.

“You just need to know someone loves you—a lot.”

“Hmm…not everyone loves me, Finn.”

“That’s okay. It’s his loss. Let the past be. I’m your future, and I love you.”

I kiss him back and bury my head on his shoulder, wishing I could close out the world, and realizing how much I truly miss the lodge.

In a few minutes Hannah will arrive. We’ll spend hours sledding down Mile High Hill and dragging sleds up to the top. I’ll curse the cold the entire time and feel the steep incline in my thighs that haven’t properly worked out in months, but I’ll be with Finn and Blake and Hannah, and for a little while life in Bridgman will be happy.