Loving Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 2) (14 page)

I glance at the clock as I re-enter my room. It’s 5:00. Tonight could mean anything. It could mean now, or it could mean 10:00. I don’t know how much time I have, but I know what I want. I want to see the man I called
Dad.
It’s time to squash the questions and just know.

I pull out my phone and text back to the once unfamiliar phone number.

Me:
Meet me at 6:30 in the lodge library.

I push
send
before I have a chance to change my mind. There is no reply, but I’m not going to miss the chance that he’ll come. I sit on my bed and stare at my closet, wondering what you are supposed to wear to formally meet the man called
Dad
after sixteen years. I pull out my phone and text Tinley.

Me:
Meeting someone important, but not that kind of important. What do I wear?

Tinley:
Not slutty couture kind of important?

Me:
Definitely not.

Tinley:
NOT your navy blue suit.

Me:
I know that!!!

Tinley:
Wear your lace green tank and black cropped cardigan with black capris.

Me:
Thanks.

Tinley:
And the black gladiator sandals I left in your closet.

Me:
You left your sandals?

Tinley:
I have too many shoes.

Me:
Wow! And I thought you’d be the one changing Murphy. Guess it’s the other way around.

Tinley:
Don’t fool yourself. Miss you!

Me:
Me, too. Thanks.

I click off the phone and pull out the pieces Tinley suggested, marveling at her photo memory of my closet. In the back of the closet, nearest the wall, I find the black gladiator sandals. I brush out my hair, tie it into a loose ponytail at my neck, add a dab of light lip gloss, and declare myself presentable. Plus, Finn’s favorite color is green, the color of nature
and
money, he’d told me once before, so the outfit will be suitable for our date later tonight.

Me:
I’ll meet you by the chairlift at 8:00. Have a quick errand to run first. Looking forward to seeing you.

Finn:
Me, too. Don’t be late. Love you.

Me:
Love you, too.

I walk across the lawn toward the lobby and think back to the beginning of the summer when I wasn’t even allowed to enter through the main lobby doors let alone plan a meeting in the library. So much has changed since my arrival at Tremont Lodge—all because of the decision of one man sixteen years ago—the man I’m about to meet, and it all seems so surreal.

I push open the French doors that lead to the library, my favorite room in the entire lodge. The rustic yet ornate décor showers anyone who enters with a welcoming vibe that says
Leave your troubles at the door.
I can almost hear those words echoing off the enormous walls now.
Breathe in. Breathe out.

Someone is here. He doesn’t turn around when I walk down the main aisle of the library, but I know it’s him—the same dirty blonde hair from the pictures I’ve seen, the wide shoulders. He looks tall, even seated, which is what I remember, though that’s not saying much. I’m wondering if I should speak first when I hear his words which send a shiver of memory down my spine.

“Hello, Reese’s Pieces. It’s good to finally see you up close and in person.”

I freeze, legs the weight of a cinder block, not allowing me to propel forward. He stands up and turns to face me. The simple polo shirt and navy blue shorts make him look more like a golfer than a fugitive. But when he smiles, my legs start to shake, and I find myself moving toward him again. “Hello, John,” I say.

His smile fades. “I understand, Reese. I understand.”

“But I don’t,” I whisper, choking on the emotion caught in my throat.

“I can imagine not,” he says.

“Why are you here?” I ask, holding myself upright by leaning my arm on a nearby chair.

“You asked me to come,” he says, wrinkling his eyebrows. As if sensing my trepidation he moves no closer.

“I mean, why have you been following me—my whole life?” I inhale again. “You abandoned me for money. If you think I have more to give you, you’re wrong. Whatever Lawson told you about my having money is incorrect.”

“That’s not really the truth, Reese,” he says.

“It is. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but I don’t have any money to give you to make you leave again.”

“I don’t need money to make me leave. I’ve never taken money to leave.”

Even after all these years, he still can’t come clean with the truth. “The hell you haven’t! At least tell the truth once in your life! You know damn well that you took $100,000 to leave Tremont Lodge sixteen years ago so that you wouldn’t be prosecuted for killing my mother!” Steady streams of tears fall down the cheeks of John Prentice at the mention of my mother. It makes me cry, too, which only pisses me off because I don’t want him to see how much he’s hurt me.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulls out an envelope, and holds it out in an offering to me. “Take it,” he says.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Take it, and see for yourself. Maybe you’ll believe me now.”

I take a couple of steps forward, the stand-off between father and daughter still upheld by the distance between us. I grab the envelope and rip open the top, pulling out a piece of paper. It’s a bank statement. Written underneath the name of the bank is my name:
Reese Prentice
with a current balance amount showing $109,007.12. My fingers start trembling as I squeeze the paper between them. “I don’t understand.”

“Ted Oakley told me to leave Tremont Lodge sixteen years ago after a series of horrible accidents.”

“So you say.”

“You’re right, Reese. No one but your mother and Nadia know what happened up on that ski lift, and…”

“I’m not talking about the ski lift
accident
. I’m talking about you killing my mother in your lodge room.”

“I did not kill your mother, Reese. I tried to stop her. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth. She was determined to kill herself after the accusations that swirled around when Nadia fell. She was angry with me for the affair. I assume you know about that, too. But I swear on my life that I tried to stop her that night. It just wasn’t enough.”

“If that’s all true, then why did you take the money and leave?”

“Because no one could prove that what I just told you is the truth.”

“Because it could also have been
murder?
”

“Because to some it may have looked that way. And because I didn’t want your mom’s memory disparaged with implications that she may have killed Nadia in a fit of rage over my infidelity, that you might someday find out that your mother was dead and your biological father didn’t claim you.”

The last words sting the hardest, a continual reminder that no one wanted me.

“I took the money and opened a checking account for you. That statement proves that what I tell you is the truth. It’s all there—the $100,000 plus interest. And you have only to call and have the money transferred to whatever bank you are using now or ask them to close the account and send you a check. Your choice.”

I drop into the nearest chair, feeling warm and sweaty.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
A throbbing pain stabs at the front of my head, and I am dizzy.

John puts a water bottle in my hand. “Drink this, Reese. You’re overwhelmed.”

I do as I’m told, and for the first time, look into his deep grey eyes, the color of Blake’s.
Blake.
“What about Blake?” I ask. “He really is your son.”

“Oh, Reese. You
are
really my daughter. You always have been, and you always will be, whether you acknowledge that or not. No lack of a DNA connection will ever change how I feel about you. I’ve been proud of you every step of your life.”

“Then why did you wait until now to contact me?”

“Because I wasn’t sure you wanted to know the truth, and no matter how much I wanted to tell you, to let you know that it cut me deep to leave you at the lodge all those years ago…” He puts his hand on his chest and takes his own deep breaths. “But when I found out you were coming to the lodge, I knew it was time, finally, to come clean…because you were looking for answers.”

“You’ve been following me,” I say.

“Ah, I see you’ve discussed a little of my life with Mr. Oakley. Yes, his private investigators tailed me for years, but they need not have worried. I would never have blown my cover. Your feelings meant too much to me.”

“If that were true, then why did you leave Blake and me to be raised by two emotionally absent people?” The venom sits just below the surface, and I know he senses it.

“My parents—your grandparents—never supported my choice to leave. They made that abundantly clear when they told me to never show my face in Bridgman again, or they’d call the police themselves. But they loved you both the best they could despite my problems, and I am forever grateful to them for that. Blake was too young to remember…”

“That he was left strapped into his car seat in an empty bathtub with his five-year-old sister to watch over him while her mother lay dead in a pool of her own blood in the next room?” I say.

“Y…yes. He’s had a much easier adjustment with all of this, I suppose.”

Silence floats between us, the new revelations floating around in my mind. “Why have you been sending me messages and spying on me at the lodge? It scared the hell out of me,” I say.

“I felt it was a little safer to contact you once you started seeking answers, but I was afraid you’d bolt if you knew I was here. I guess in my mind I imagined we were having dialogue. I didn’t see it as a one-way communication. I don’t know, Reese. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I hoped you would want to see me, but I didn’t know…” He takes a deep breath and blows the air out slowly.

“I…I did want to see you.” It’s true. Ever since I found out that John Prentice was alive, a part of me has wanted to see him. A part of me needed to confront him about what he did to Blake and me so long ago. So, now what?

We both turn our heads to the back of the room as the doors are burst open. “Reese!” Lawson is out of breath by the time he gets to us, filling in the empty space between my dad and me. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine, Lawson. This is…this is my dad, John.”

He holds out his hand to shake Lawson’s, but Lawson needs my approval before he takes it, so I nod my head that it’s all okay. “Hello, Lawson. It’s a pleasure to meet a friend of Reese’s.”

That makes me giggle out loud, but I stop laughing when they both look at me like I’ve gone crazy. I can’t help it, though. If I didn’t find something to laugh about in this situation, I’d cry. And God knows I’m tired of crying. “Sorry,” I say. “Why are you here, Lawson?”

“I found out that he…uh, that, John checked out of his room already, but he didn’t take the last shuttle to the airport. I was worried about you.”

“It seems your heart has grown a few sizes after all, Lawson,” I say.

His lip curls up on one side, and a twinkle returns to his eyes. “Keep my secret,” he says.

“You have my word.”

“Reese.” We turn our attention back to my dad. “I did miss the airport shuttle, but there should be a taxi waiting for me in front of the lodge. I do have a plane to catch.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I have some friends that live in Florida I’m staying with. They have a construction company. It’s good to stay busy.”

“But, don’t you want to see Blake…and your parents?”

His face says it all, and I feel his pain. “Blake doesn’t know any different, so there’s no need to create a wound. And my parents? Well, they’re better off without me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I disappointed them one too many times in my life. There are too many poor decisions to recall. But the best decision I ever made was to put you in their care. You may not see it that way, but at the time I felt like it was the best choice for the two of you. Maybe someday you can come to forgive me.” He walks a little closer so that he is standing next to Lawson and in front of my chair. “I won’t check up on you any more, Reese. You don’t need to live your life looking over your shoulder. If you want to contact me, you have my number.” He pauses a moment more before picking up his suitcase from the floor and walking toward the door.

“Wait!” I say, jumping up from my chair and following him. “You…you should call your parents. I think they need to hear from you.”

“I don’t know about that, Reese.”

“Trust me,” I say.

“I’ll think about it. Good luck to you. You seem happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

When he gets to the door, I call out one last time. “Thank you!”

“For what? I destroyed your life.”