The Art of Letting Go: A Happy Endings Resort Series Novella (Happy Endings Resort #15) (The Happy Endings Resort)

by M. C. Brightly

  My four-hour shift flies by and before I know it, it’s already time to call it a day and head home. After clocking out, I stay a little while longer and just hang out with Jordan to keep him company because the store is a ghost town today and he’ll be here alone until closing time at seven.

  He asks me about school and my aunt, and all the normal stuff. After a while I check the time and tell him I need to head home to my aunt. Giving him a quick hug, I head out.

  I walk through the door and smell the amazing aroma of bacon. Toeing my shoes off by the door, I pad across the cool, hardwood floors into the kitchen to find my aunt standing by the stove, cooking.

  Slipping my headphones off my head, I rest them around my neck, leaving the music to play. I can faintly hear “Polarize” by Twenty One Pilots coming through them and as I approach my aunt, who hears it too. Turning around with a wide, warm smile spread across her face she reaches out with her free arm and pulls me in for a half hug, while the other works on flipping the bacon.

  “Hi, sweetie. How was work?” she asks, turning off the stove and piling the last of the bacon onto a plate.

  “It was okay. Slow, but I kept myself busy so my shift went by pretty fast,” I reply, returning her warm smile before walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

  “I thought you weren’t going to be home from work until seven-thirty?” My aunt is a charge nurse at the nursing home here in town. She’s was supposed to be working from 11:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. today, but it’s only 6:30 p.m. and she’s home.

  “They let me go early. I was battling another one of those awful migraines, so they had my relief come in an hour early. On my way home I stopped to get some more headache medicine, and decided to swing by the pet store since it was nearby. I picked up a small bag of cat food, some crickets and mealworms for Niko and Lisa,” she tells me, pointing toward a clear plastic bag sitting on the floor beside the table.

  “Thank you. Yell when dinner’s ready. If you need help with anything, since you’re not feeling well, just let me know.

  Scooping the bag up off the floor, I swing it back and forth beside me as I make my way down the narrow hallway to my bedroom.

  Pushing my bedroom door open, I head straight over to my hedgehogs’ cage and grab their food dishes. I fill both with little bits of cat food and some mealworms, before sliding them back into their cage.

  I rub the tops of their heads to say hello, before relocking their cage and heading over to my desk to check my emails and get some school work done.

  Dropping my messenger bag onto the floor, I plop down into my computer chair and fire up my laptop. Logging into my email, I scroll through checking the tiny box beside almost every single one of them to delete. I feel like ninety percent of emails are nothing but junk. A familiar email address catches my attention; it’s from my old foster family, the Browns. I haven’t spoken to them since I moved to South Carolina. I feel a smile form on my face as I open the message.

  Dear Hartley,

  Mr. Brown and I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay. We moved to Endings, South Carolina about two months ago and are staying at a resort. The harsh Minnesota winters were getting to be too hard with my arthritis. We felt like retiring to Florida was too cliché as you young people would say. So instead we bought a cozy little two-bedroom cabin on a quaint little lake. I know you’re probably busy with your new life and college—which we hope is going well. We know you’re going to do great things with your life, but we were hoping since it’s only a short drive from where you’re living with your aunt that you’d be interested in coming for a visit. We miss you dearly. I’d love nothing more than to get to see you, catch up face to face rather than over an email or phone call. If you don’t want to, or are too busy, we completely understand. We know that you have a new life there and are trying to move forward, but we thought we would at least send you an email and see if it was something you’d consider.

  Love, Mr. and Mrs. Brown

  I jump up out of my chair, causing it to fall back onto the floor with a loud bang, scoop my laptop up off the desk, and run into the kitchen. The loud thud of my chair must’ve startled aunt August, because she was running out of the kitchen as I came running in almost causing us to collide into each other.

  Her hands fly up to her chest, holding them against her heart, as she stares at me with a startled expression, as her eyes blink down at me. “Dear Lord, Hartley, you just about gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry.” I laugh as I try to calm my racing heart. “But I had to show you this!” I set my laptop down on the table pointing to the open email filling the screen. Peering over my shoulder, she reads the email out loud.

  Finishing the last sentence of the email, she turns to me, propping herself against the back of the kitchen chair. “So do you want to go see them?” By the face-splitting smile spreading across my face, I don’t even have to bother saying a single word. She already knows my answer. But I scream enthusiastically anyways. “Yes! Oh my, God. I can’t wait to see them again. I haven’t talked to them in so long. I never really got a chance to thank them for everything that they did for me.”

  Pulling the chair out, she sits down and I do the same, as the sudden feeling to sit overwhelms me. My head spins from the excitement filling it.

  “Well, I’ll have to look at my schedule, but I’m sure that I’ll be able to get next week off if you want to go. Your finals are all this week, right? And then you start summer break?” she asks, unfolding herself from the chair, and walking back over to the stove to stir the scrambled eggs.

  Nodding, I tell her, “Yup, I have a final tomorrow that I’m studying for tonight and then two more on Friday. Then I’m finished until we go back in August.”

  “All right, well I’ll talk to my boss about getting my vacation put through for next week tomorrow. It shouldn’t be an issue, so if you want to email them back and let them know we’d love to come visit. We’ll get back to them with an exact date tomorrow.”

  Jumping to my feet, I run across the kitchen, hugging her from behind as she sprinkles shredded cheese onto the eggs. “Thank you. Thank you! Thank you! I’m so excited. Ahhh…this is going to be the perfect way to celebrate the start of summer.” I shriek with excitement before releasing my aunt and retrieving my laptop from the kitchen table.

  “Go email them back, then cleanup for dinner. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  Not wasting a single moment, I rush back to my room, scoop my chair up off the floor, and get to work replying to their email.

  Mrs. Brown emails me back an hour later to tell me that they are so glad we’re going to visit them. My heart flutters in my chest at the thought of seeing them. I never had grandparents growing up, so the Browns are the closest thing I have to family besides Aunt August. I can’t wait for them to finally get to meet her. I know they’ll love her as much as I do. They were so worried when I told them I was moving to South Carolina. I think this trip will help set their worries at ease.

  I send a quick text to Jordan to ask him for the next week off for the trip. Thankfully I have the world’s best boss, who texted me back right away to let me know it’s totally fine. He’ll just tell his sister to come down and help him out for the week.

  After dinner I spend two hours studying for my finals this week. Once my eyes start to go cross from studying so hard, I climb into bed, turn on my favorite movie, Twilight, which I’ve probably watched well over a gazillion times, while looking up this Happy Ending’s Resort Mrs. Brown linked me to in her last email. Not long after starting the movie, my eyes flutter shut as I lose the battle with staying awake any longer, and drift off to sleep where I dream of cute sparkly vampires and cozy cabins on the lake.

  Chapter Two

  Thank God it’s Friday!

  After the week I’ve had, I’m glad to know it’s the weekend. Jordan suggested we check out a party one of his friends is throwing tonight. So I texted my aunt, le
tting her know I’d probably be getting home late tonight because I’m going out with some friends. At first, she was on the fence about letting me go out, but as soon as I mentioned I was going with Jordan, she reluctantly gave in. She knows how stressful this week has been with finals from hell. I, for one, am in desperate need of letting loose and having some fun.

  Pulling off the main road and onto a long winding dirt road, we approach a small parking lot that holds about ten other parked cars, and pull Jordan’s car into a spot before climbing out into the warm, summer night air. Laikynn, Grey and Raiden met Jordan and I after work to come with us. Spotting a group of guys playing an intense game of volleyball, the guys tell us they’ll come find us in a bit and jog toward the match going on.

  “I think I see Sara over by the keg. Let’s go say hi.” Taking my hand in hers, Laikynn pulls me across the grassy field, over to a row of picnic tables that are filled with partygoers who are all sitting around listening to music and drinking from red solo cups.

  It’s hot and humid so it isn’t long until we all decide to lose the clothes and opt for a swim in the lake rather than sitting on the picnic tables sweating our asses off.

  Around nine o’ clock the sun finally begins to set, so Raiden and a few other guys get to work building a bonfire. We spend the next few hours sitting around the fire, telling cheesy ghost stories, talking about the bands we want to see this summer, and making way too many s’mores.

  Throughout the night everyone enjoys one beer after another until the keg runs dry, while I stick to drinking water. After growing up with an alcoholic of a father and going through what I’ve had to at the hands of his addiction, I made a promise to myself never to touch the stuff. It doesn’t appeal to me, not one single bit.

  By 2:00 a.m. the party starts to fade out, as everyone slowly begins to leave. Everyone’s trashed except me, because I’m the designated driver.

  With a pretty blonde hanging off his arm, Raiden let us know he would be going home with her tonight and that we were okay to leave without him.

  “This was such a fun night. I’m glad you decided to come out with us.” Jordan says, with a goofy grin plastered across his face, causing his perfect white teeth to sparkle in the bright moonlight that’s shining down on us.

  Inhaling a deep breath, breathing in the warm, thick summer air that holds a hint of campfire, I smile to myself as I replay the night’s events in my mind. “I’m happy I came too. It was a lot of fun. Except, I think I may have gained five pounds after all of the s’mores I ate.”

  Laikynn lets out a light giggle, as she stumbles up beside me, draping her arm around my shoulders and laying her head against me. “Those s’mores were pretty fuckin’ amazing. They were so worth going up a pants size, if I do say so myself.”

  I feel her jump from surprise and squeals in my ear as the sound of Grey’s hand connecting with her butt fills the air around us. “Your ass still looks spec…spectac…ular,” Grey slurs out, before getting lost in a fit of laughter.

  The drive home was very uneventful aside from Jordan hurling all over the side of the road. The man sure can drink with the best of them, but for him the rule always applies: What goes down always comes back up.

  After dropping Laikynn and Grey off at their apartment, I head over to Vinyl is Forever. Parking alongside the curb, I climb out of the truck, jogging around to the passenger side to help Jordan out.

  Draping his arm over my shoulder, I help him walk to the front door while trying to find the key to the door using the street light illuminating the sidewalk.

  I relock the door, as I kick it shut with my Converse-covered foot, before helping Jordan walk toward the back of the store and the door leading to the stairwell that goes up to his apartment above the shop.

  It took a lot of effort, but finally we made it to the top of the stairs and safely into his apartment, without falling down the stairs and breaking our necks. Flicking on the light beside the door, his small apartment comes into view.

  It’s small, but it’s perfect for him; a small, one-bedroom apartment with a door leading straight into a little living room that’s connected to a tiny kitchen. The only thing dividing them is a short island, which has two mix-matched bar stools at it.

  “Thank you, Hartley,” he whispers in a hushed tone, as I lead him through the doorway to his bedroom, and plop him onto his bed.

  “You’re welcome. Now stay there. I’m going to grab you two aspirins and some water because you’re going to feel like a Mack truck hit you come tomorrow.”

  We’ve done this enough times after a crazy night of partying for me to know exactly where to find everything. I grab the bottle of aspirin from his medicine cabinet before filling a tall glass with water in his kitchen. Walking back into his bedroom with the bottle in one hand and the glass of water in the other, my feet falter momentarily as my eyes land on Jordan, lying sprawled out on the bed, shirtless and passed out, lightly snoring.

  The man is gorgeous. Even if we’re just friends, and will always be because let’s be honest, he sees me like his little sister. Not to mention he’s my boss and that would just spell disaster. I still can admire the glorious body that is made up of his spectacular pecs and washboard abs.

  Setting the water next to him on his night stand, I grab a blanket off the chair in the corner of his room, roll him onto his side, which is not an easy task. The man is all muscle and feels like I’m trying to roll a massive boulder over. Finally on my third try, I get him onto his side and cover him up with the blanket before heading back out into the living room.

  I’m too tired to attempt to drive home tonight, so I climb onto the small couch, grab the throw blanket folded along the back of it, and toss two throw pillows down to sleep on.

  Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I send a quick text to my aunt letting her know I’ll be crashing here tonight. I milk the sympathy by telling her Jordan is throwing up and I don’t think it’s safe to leave him alone, that way she won’t try to insist I drive home instead of staying over.

  Thankfully she texts right back, telling me she’s happy that we made it back to his place safely, and to tell Jordan she hopes he feels better. Setting my phone onto the coffee table, I curl up on the couch, pulling the blanket snuggly under my chin, and drift off to sleep.

  ***

  I wake up a little after eleven and check on Jordan. He’s still passed out and lying in the same position I left him in last night. I don’t want to leave him by himself if he’s not feeling good, so I decide to run to the store and grab some things to make breakfast. I come back at twelve-thirty and find that he’s still passed out.

  Pulling out the contents from the grocery bags, I get to work making breakfast. I fry some bacon, because bacon is life and I can’t go a day without eating it, and set to work toasting some English muffins to go with our bacon and fried eggs.

  Nothing is better for a hangover than eating greasy food, or so I’ve heard from Jordan one too many times. So I’m frying up some eggs in bacon grease for breakfast—well, brunch, I guess.

  After everything’s done cooking, I make our plates, leaving them on the small island. Turning on the heels of my bare feet, I open then lean into the fridge, grabbing the small bottle of coffee creamer and setting it on the countertop beside the Keurig. I have music playing from my phone and I’m humming along to “Odd One” by Sick Puppies as I spin around to go wake up Jordan and let out a loud scream.

  “Ahhh! Holy shit, Jordan! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” He’s standing behind me with a crooked smirk on his lips as I attempt to come down from the heart attack he just gave me.

  “I thought you went home last night after dropping me off, but I guess not. I awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs and thought I was still drunk, because I thought there was no way that I was going to stumble out here and find breakfast prepared and on the table.

  Hitting brew on the Keurig, I fill his mug first before preparing mine. Sliding his cup over to him, he w
astes no time fixing it the way he likes it: one spoonful of sugar and a slash of cream.

  “It was almost three by the time we got back here and I was way too tired to try and drive home. So, I crashed on the couch. I figured you’d be feeling like death when you woke up so I decided to make you the hangover cure,” I say, waving my hand like Vanna White showcasing his plate of eggs, bacon and toasted muffin.

  We eat beside one another with neither of us saying much. Instead, we listen quietly to my music that’s playing on the counter from his iPod dock. Thankfully for Jordan, he doesn’t work on Saturdays. His sister, Amberly, always runs the store on the weekend so that Jordan can have somewhat of a social life. It’s a family-owned business. His father opened it up in the late seventies with his mother who’s a music teacher here at the local high school. Jordan manages it with the help of his sister, though she’s so busy with college that she doesn’t have the time to devote to it like her brother does. That’s how I got this job. Thankfully I met Amberly in English class and we bonded over our love of 90’s grunge music. Then one day she told me about the record store and how they were looking for someone to pick up a few hours each week.

  The rest is history.

  I’m cleaning up the plates, as the sink fills with bubbles when Jordan props his body up against the kitchen counter. Crossing his arms, he watches as I rinse the plates and get to work washing them. “You don’t have to do that you know.”

  Glancing at him over my shoulder, I reply, “I know. But I want to. I’m the one who made the mess. The least I can do is clean it up. Plus, with the hangover you’re sporting I don’t imagine cleaning your apartment is number one on your list of things to do today.”

  He lets out a deep chuckle, and says, “You got that right.” With a long sigh, runs his hand through his hair before opening his mouth to speak again. “Thanks again for doing this. It was really nice of you. Why don’t you take the day off? I’ll text Amberly, let her know to call Sam and see if he’ll come in if things get busy this afternoon. He’s been looking for more hours since his mother lost her job.”