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

Grandpa was in bed when I got back to the farm last night. I know he said that Finn and I weren’t welcome anymore, but he was bluffing. He wouldn’t turn me away from the funeral
festivities
today even if he wanted to.

The breakfast table is set for four people. I look at my choices of cereal: Cap’n Crunch
,
Granola
,
and Raisin Bran
.
What the hell? You only live once. I grab the Cap’n Crunch
and pour myself a large bowl. Finn is wearing his suit already when he comes to the table. I haven’t seen him since we crossed paths on our way to and from the shower this morning. He slept in the musty basement on the ancient hide-a-bed couch last night, while I stayed in my old bedroom, complete with Hello Kitty
sheets, a nod to my early childhood. Seeing the Hello Kitty
clock on my nightstand last night reminded me that maybe contacting John/Dad about his mother’s death wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It was after midnight when I sent him the email. I didn’t get a response.

“You’re looking a little too hot for a funeral,” I say, admiring the same suit that Finn wore to the Christmas ball, minus the red and green striped flashing tie in favor of a more subdued black tie.

“Do you think it’s too much?” he asks, looking concerned.

“No, it’s perfect. I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Have you spoken to your grandpa yet today?”

“He said
good morning
when I passed through the living room.”

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

Finn and I follow Grandpa’s old Buick down the drive and turn in the direction of town where the one and only funeral home is located along Red Arrow Highway. Blake is Grandpa’s escort which is for the best.

The casket is still open. I can see it immediately when I enter the funeral parlor, the large oak lid with the perfectly crisp white taffeta interior shining brightly as if a precious package is inside. I don’t mean this as disrespect to my grandmother. She was a flawed human being, but she was human nonetheless. It’s just that creating such a beautiful package for the final resting place of any human seems like a sick joke because nothing good is coming out of that perfect box. And you can’t make death pretty—ever. God doesn’t care how you look when you die. That’s the beauty of death. He meets you exactly where you are—no matter who you are. At least that’s what I believe.

“Are you okay?” asks Finn. He puts his hand on the small of my back, but I barely feel it, I’m so tense.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” I turn around and look at him. I am keenly aware that the last funeral Finn probably attended was that of his mother who died when he was in high school. He doesn’t talk about her a lot, but I know she was special enough for him to tattoo his body in order to keep his memories of her alive.

“I’m good. Why don’t you go pay your respects?” He points toward the casket. “It looks like your brother might like some company.

Blake is bent over the casket while his hands wipe away fresh tears. The poor guy’s been through a lot. A hand slips into mine and pulls me in the direction of the casket. I look up into the face of my grandfather. He is focused on the back of Blake, but his hand is soft in mine—and comforting.

At the cemetery after the service, I take a rose from a flower spray that lies atop the casket, now securely closed and ready for its permanent home at Greenwood Cemetery. Grandpa is surrounded by his friends from church, and Blake and Hannah are sitting alone under the tent that protected us from the cold wind. I guess he wants to say
goodbye
in private.

“All set to leave?” Finn asks, squeezing my hand which he has not let go of since the pastor’s opening prayer. “No pressure—I mean, take as much time as you need.”

“I’m ready. Let me say
goodbye
to Blake and…and Grandpa. Then we can—”

“What’s the matter, Reese?”

“I…it’s…look.” I point in the direction of the cars that are parked in a line along the gravel drive into the cemetery. Most of the cars have gone back to the church for a luncheon. I guess all of Grandma’s friends feel a little less sad when they’re in a kitchen.

Finn looks in the direction I point. A man is sitting in his car. He’s wearing one of those warm winter hats with flaps that cover the ears. But I know who it is.
John.
“He came,” Finn says. I shake my head
yes.
“What are you going to do?”

I wave at him, and he waves back but doesn’t get out of the car. “I guess he has some closure to find, too,” I say.

“Do you need to see him again, too, for closure?”

“Me? No, I’m good. I’m done closing doors to my past. I want to open doors to my future for a change. Is that okay with you?” I smile up at Finn, who’s smiling down at me, too.

“As long as I can follow you through those open doors,” he says.

“Honey, I’m counting on you building some of those doors for me. Would you do that?”

“I’ll build the whole damn house if that’s what you want, Reese Prentice.” He kisses me on the neck, which tickles.

Then I walk back into the tent—alone—to say
goodbye
to Blake. I don’t tell him about his father, only mere steps away. I’ve interfered with the trajectory of his life enough. He’ll figure it out in due time, if and when he’s ready.

I’ve decided that it is best for Finn and me to return to the lodge after the burial at the cemetery, despite the leave of absence Ted has imposed. It’s so much less complicated there, and I don’t belong in Bridgman anymore. I’ve made my peace as much as is possible with the childhood I lived. It’s time to be a grown-up now.

Before we get into the car to head back to Tremont Lodge, I give Grandpa a hug. I think I surprise him because it takes him a second to relax his body. “I’ll be in touch,” I say.

His eyes are glistening when I pull away. “She always loved you, Reese. She may not have been able to show it, but she did. And…so did—
do
—I.”

“Thanks,” I say.

And as I’m walking back to the car, I smile. Coming home never goes as expected, too many expectations set up that deflate upon arrival, but sometimes there are surprises, too, that surpass any false expectations. I wave at John one last time, and drive away with Finn, leaving my past behind without a final look in the rearview window.

When I wake up, I pull open the blinds. An attack of rarely seen rays shines into the room. It’s the little things that can mean so much, and that’s how I’m feeling about the sun’s effect on my mood right now—that, and the fact that I haven’t slept in this late in months. There are some perks to being put on administrative leave. I touch the imprint of Finn’s head in the pillow next to mine. He was so sweet last night, holding me while I fell asleep. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a better night’s sleep.

I turn on my phone. It starts blowing up with messages.

Tinley:
Call me!

Tinley:
Where are u?

Tinley:
I can’t wait anymore to tell you! I’m coming after Christmas to visit!

Tinley:
I know you’re flipping out right now. It’s Murphy’s gift to me because he says I’ve been moody. LOL

A visit from Tinley is exactly what I need to take my mind off of myself. Plus, it will be fun doing wedding planning in person. Trying to keep up with all of her email and text requests to
Check out this dress or that pair of shoes
or this venue or that cake design
has been exhausting. I read the rest of my texts before responding.

Blake:
Thanks for coming down. Hannah thinks her mom might let us visit sometime.

John:
Nice to see you yesterday. I didn’t talk to Blake or Dad. Just not the right time. Still, it was good to be there. Thanks for thinking of me. Merry Christmas. Love, Dad

Me to Tinley:
Text me the details. I have A LOT of free time.

Me to Blake:
I’d love to c u both. Dates?

John:
Merry Christmas to u, too.

What’s a girl to do when she can’t go to work and she’s living in a resort? Act like a guest. After my shower, I throw on yoga pants, look up the exercise class schedule on my phone, and decide on the day’s itinerary. Cycling class is in an hour, surprise lunch with Finn after grabbing a couple of sandwiches from the café, a dip in the always 90 degree pool despite the 10 degree temperature outside, and manicure and pedicure at the spa before Finn’s shift ends. Then, we’ll watch old, classic 80s movies, and drink local wine. Sounds like the perfect way to spend my sabbatical. I wonder how long this will last anyway. I suppose I should
try
to squeeze in a visit with Ted just to feel out his thoughts.

“You look cute with a ponytail, so young and innocent,” says Finn, kissing me and smacking me on the butt in one quick movement.

“Hey! Play nice. I
am
young and innocent. Just because you’ve been used to seeing me in a boring navy blue suit for the last few months doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to loosen up.”

“Maybe we should skip lunch and see how loose you’re really feeling.”

I slug Finn in the arm and toss him an egg salad sandwich while I sink into a couch in the library with a chicken salad sandwich from the café deli. “So, what’s been keeping you busy today?” I ask, realizing that I really don’t know a whole lot about what kind of work Finn has been doing lately.

“Always snow removal—shoveling, salting, shoveling some more. One of the chair lifts is acting up. I oiled it up, and it’s working—for now—but I’m not sure how long that will last.”

“So, it gets pretty busy over the holiday?” I ask.

“Busy is an understatement. Tremont Lodge will be overrun soon. Remember all those little kids you admired running around the lawn during the summer?” I shake my head
yes.
“Well, they’ll be running around
inside.
Your precious library will be littered with toys and wrappers and half-filled pop cans and gloves and hats and stray game pieces. Just be glad you’re not back on the cleaning crew. Of course, the slopes will be super tight, too. In fact—” He stops to twirl a strand of my hair in his fingers, and I wonder what Finn is thinking. “If you were serious about learning how to ski, now is the perfect time to practice before it gets crazy next week.”

I can feel my chest tighten, and I take a deep breath. “I don’t know, Finn. There’s just not enough hours in the day, and you’re already so busy.”

“Uh, no offense, but I know for a fact that you have a lot of free time on your hands, and I’ve seen the forecast. We’re getting a bit of a break the next couple of days from a heavy snow front. Tonight—we’ll go tonight.” He says it so definitively while backpedaling out of the room before I have time to formulate a more acceptable excuse. “Be ready at 7:00. We’ll eat a late dinner after! Love you!” And he’s out the door without not so much as a
goodbye
kiss. Damn, the guy is good.

After my mani-pedi—pink for my fingernails and purple for my toes because
why not?
—I decide to bite the bullet and visit Ted to see when my administrative leave will end. I take the back stairs because there’s no time like the present to kick up my exercise regimen. I hear yelling the minute I get to the landing of the third floor. I slowly push open the door and peek my head out. I don’t see anyone, but I let the door close softly behind me before I proceed in the direction of Ted’s office and also in the direction of the screaming match.

I consider just opening the door, but this isn’t your typical,
You gave me the wrong file
kind of argument, so I put my ear to the door instead. Ted is the first one I hear yelling. “I don’t owe you
anything!
You betrayed me. You betrayed me in the most painful way possible. It was over a long time ago. You made that decision the moment you spread your legs.” Then there is crying, high-pitched and dramatic.
Georgia.
It has to be. Who else could it be?

“Ted, please! All those years together…how can you forget how good I’ve been for you—how good I’ve been
to
you. I bathed you, dammit!
I bathed you when you couldn’t even take off your own damn clothes!
You gave me a ring, Ted!”

“A lot of good that did. Get out of my office.” Ted is surprisingly calm. Something drops to the ground, more like lots of somethings—maybe the contents of Ted’s desk. The door knob turns. I duck into the bathroom next door, just as footsteps stomp down the hallway. I wait until I hear the elevator ding before coming out of the bathroom. I walk toward Ted’s closed door.

“What are
you
doing here?”

I jump and turn around in one fluid motion. “Lawson! You scared the crap out of me. What are
you
doing here?”

“I was about to talk to Ted about getting my job back.”

“That’s why
I
was here! But, I have to tell you Ted’s going to be in a crazy pissed off mood—no thanks to you, so maybe you’d better come back another time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lawson’s breath reeks of alcohol. I guess the rehab has worn off already.

“He and Georgia had a huge fight, and she just tore out of here. Didn’t you see her when you got off the elevator?”

“I didn’t see anyone,” says Lawson.

“Are you sure?”

“Georgia left the lodge after the Christmas ball, Reese. I threw her out of my room that night when she begged for my forgiveness. Lying cheat. That’s the last time I get played the fool. I’m so
damn
tired of getting played!” He slams his fist against the wall in the hallway, and I’m convinced that Ted had to hear him and convinced that I should revisit my meeting with Ted another time.

“Look, I’ve got to go, Lawson. Just consider yourself warned about Ted’s mood. I’ll see you around.” He just glares at me as I walk away, no doubt wishing again that I’d never stepped foot on the property at Tremont Lodge—because, undoubtedly, in Lawson’s mind, Georgia’s leaving him was all my fault.