by Alexa Ross
Blake shrugged. “Whatever pays the bills. I fish, hunt, chop wood—odd jobs for people in the area. I earn just enough to get by.”
“You should see his cabin, Mother. It’s just beautiful—the trees and the pond and the stars at night.”
My mother gave the nod of a marionette whose strings were being tugged. Another awkward silence descended over the table. Outside the window, arm-in-arm tourists were bustling along, almost imperceptible from the locals, who had the same smiles and bag-filled arms.
Putting down his glass with a sharp clink, Father turned to Blake.
“Okay, young man, Claire’s mother and I are understandably worried about our daughter, especially after what just happened here with that Angelo crook. So, let’s cut to the chase, why don’t we. What’s your business with my daughter?”
Blake’s face flushed with an uncomfortable smile. “I…” he said. “I…don’t know.”
The silence after was the bullet in my heart.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My parents exchanged a knowing glance and then directed their decided looks to me, as if to say, See? Blake, however, looked calm, composed—as if he hadn’t just stabbed a knife into any potential we’d had of being anything. Even I felt calm now; my heartbeat had fallen to a slow, miserable thump. Now I knew. There had never been anything real between us.
I rose. “I’ll just being going now.”
Blake rose too. “I will be too.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine, Blake.”
He grasped my arm. “No. No, it’s not.”
I ripped myself out of his grasp and, as my parents squawked their protest, left. If I had stayed, the only thing I could have said to my parents would have been a bitter “I hope you’re happy” anyway.
No, instead I left. I walked past the well to-do patrons and nice tables and pleasant meals I would never have. I walked away from the only man I had ever truly loved.
As soon as I stepped outside, his voice followed me: “Claire—Claire!”
I kept on walking. He jogged up beside me.
“Claire, I’m sorry. I just…don’t lie.”
I turned to him, tears in my eyes. “I know, Blake, and that’s the problem. You truly don’t feel about me how I feel about you.”
“I wasn’t finished yet,” he said.
I said nothing, and he continued. “You left before you gave me a chance to explain. I don’t know what my business is with you; I don’t know what I want, with you or with anything. All I know is that every morning, for the first time in my life, I’ve been waking up excited, that every night when I go to bed, I almost don’t want to, don’t want to leave you for such a short time as it is.”
I sat down on a nearby bench. “So what does this mean?” I asked my dirt-covered sneakers.
“This means, Claire, that I want to be with you,” Blake said, grasping my hand, “if you want to be with me.”
I turned to face him, the words coming out of me in a rush. “You know I do.”
He nodded, and then his face darkened.
“I just… What I worry is that I may not be all that you need. I don’t know if I’ll be able to adapt to life in the city or be the man you can brag to your family and friends about. Claire, I don’t think I’ll be happy if I move away from Aspen.”
I clasped his hand and nodded my head. “I know, Blake,” I said, and looked up into his blue, blue eyes. “Which is why I want to live with you, in your cabin—if you’ll have me.”
Blake stood up, lifted me into his arms, and spun me.
“When can you move in?”
Laughing as he put me down, I kissed him.
“Now.”
His face happier than I’d ever seen it, Blake took my hand, squeezed it, and began walking back the way we’d come, saying, “We’d better get going then. I have an answer to give your parents.”
After dinner, my parents weren’t convinced, though that was the least of our problems. As we sat on the same bench outside Cache Cache as before, about to muster ourselves for the hike back to Blake’s cottage, I noticed it. There was a message on my phone from Lila: “Just got in! Where are you? Want to meet now?”
That had been five hours ago, and I was already exhausted just thinking about it. “What about the Aspen Hickory House tomorrow at 12 for lunch?” is what I texted her. Her response came a minute later: “Great! See ya there.”
I turned to Blake with lowered eyes. Now that we’d just barely gotten through one interrogation, I was supposed to tell him that tomorrow we were going to another?
“What is it?” Blake asked.
“It’s Lila,” I said, “my friend from back home. She’s come to visit. She wants me to meet her for lunch.”
“Okay,” Blake said. “Did you tell her about me?”
“No,” I said, and his face darkened.
“Well, do you want me to go?”
Our bench was in front of a park. At the sound of a squawk, I turned and watched as one bird called to another, over and over and over again, until the other bird flew off into the sky, away. Well, did I want him to go?
I turned back to Blake and stared into his eyes. How did I tell him that I did want him to go, but I was afraid? Afraid that after all this badgering and hassle, he was not going to want to stay?
“I don’t have to go,” Blake said with a casual air, though an irritated crease between his eyebrows gave him away.
“No. I want you to,” I said. “It’s just… You’re okay with staying in town for the night? At a hotel?”
Blake nodded. “I don’t have a lot of money because I didn’t expect a big expense like this, but it’ll be enough.”
“Oh, you don’t have to pay for mine,” I said, “if that’s what you were thinking.”
Blake shook his head. “No, I want to.”
“Blake, I mean it. It’s fine.”
He took my hand, and said, “Claire, I want to.” Then, smiling, he added, “This is our first night sleeping over in a nice place. Have any preferences?”
I kissed him, and he laughed.
“Damn, that means the place you like is pretty darn expensive, isn’t it?”
I laughed, and Blake grinned, kissed me, and said, “That’s fine. Whatever it takes to be with the girl I care about.”
After a comically heated hotel debate, with the aid of some research on my phone, Blake and I decided on Mountain Chalet Aspen, Blake admittedly grudgingly.
“I really liked Hotel Jerome,” he said. “Their bedroom was the best-looking room I’ve ever seen in my life, and I can just imagine what good sleep we’d get in that comfy bed.”
“Blake, it was over 1,000 dollars for one night; I’m not letting you spend that much money on me, no matter how comfy the bed is.”
“Oh come on, Claire, it’s not every day I get to have a sleepover with the prettiest girl in Aspen.”
I giggled and elbowed him. “Oh hush. The Mountain Chalet is more our style and you know it. It’s right on the hills, has a nice hot tub and sauna, and we even get a free breakfast, no hunting required.”
Blake laughed. “Well, you can't blame a guy for trying.”
I kissed him on the cheek.
“And if you’re trying to impress me by spending a lot, that’s very generous of you, but very unnecessary. I just care about spending time with you.”
Staring into my eyes, Blake suddenly leaped up, grabbed me, and spun me around. The world was a sailing, laughing blur, and once Blake put me down, it took me a moment to get my bearings again.
“What was that for?” I asked him, my smile still face-wide.
Blake was smiling dopily himself.
“Just… I don’t know. You’re really great. That’s all.”
I kissed him and then whispered in his ear, “I think you’re really great too.”
With another grin at me, Blake grabbed my hand and set off in the direction of Mountain Chalet Aspen.
“C’mon, Claire, we have a saun
a to check out.”
When I glanced back into the park one last time, the bird from before was still in the same spot, waiting for its companion to return. Why did I still have a bad feeling about all this?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The hotel was even nicer than we’d expected. The staff was kind and courteous and the sauna was a dreamy and warm. The whole night was one long, wonderful whirling from one thing to another: from the pool to the sauna to the restaurant and back again. By the time we collapsed in the comfy bed, I was euphoric and terrified.
I’d never been so happy in my whole life. I couldn’t take it if tomorrow didn’t go well. Already, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing Blake.
The next morning, I woke up early, nervous about meeting Lila. I dressed and brushed my teeth quietly, careful not to disturb Blake.
However, when I put my hand on the door handle, he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”
I turned to find him sitting upright and staring at me, looking wide awake.
“Oh. I thought you were still sleeping,” I said. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He smiled and patted the spot on the bed beside him. “This is our vacation, remember? I want to spend every minute of it with you that I can.”
I went to sit beside him, and he wrapped his arms around me and snuggled me under the covers with him. I went gladly and let him cover me in kisses, let his hand slide through my hair.
“It would’ve been too hard to get out of bed without you,” he said into my ear. “What were you thinking, just leaving?”
I responded by kissing him, because I didn’t want to admit that I was already trying to consciously distance myself from him in case our lunch with Lila went poorly. Hell, I knew Lila—when our lunch with her went poorly.
“I’m nervous about today,” Blake admitted.
“About that,” I said, sitting up. “Lila’s a very…strong personality. After all that’s happened, she may not be all that…receptive to me being with someone. So just don’t take it personally if things don’t go super well.”
“Okay,” Blake said, sitting up himself. “Though you did tell her about me, that I’m coming, right?”
I said nothing, and he exhaled.
“You didn’t, did you? You didn’t even tell her that I exist at all.”
I sighed and turned to him. “Listen, Blake. You don’t know Lila. She’s difficult, dramatic. I figured it was better to tell her in person.”
Blake was eyeing me coolly, and he asked, “Better for who—me or you?”
I got up off the bed.
“Do you even want me there?” Blake asked. “Do you even want me in your life at all?”
I turned to him with a frown. “How could you say such a thing? You know I do.”
But Blake wasn’t looking at me. Getting out of bed and striding into the bathroom, he said, “You could’ve fooled me.” The slam of the door was the period to his statement.
I stared at the closed door for a minute. There were no sounds inside the bathroom, no water, no movement, nothing. Almost as if…he were waiting. As if Blake were waiting for my knock, my call, to apologize, to explain myself, to talk things over and make things right.
I paused and then walked out of the room without another word. Blake didn’t understand. This was just the beginning. With the whole Angelo situation, with my parents’ and now probably Lila’s disapproval, things were going to be difficult for some time. If he couldn’t take it already, I’d rather he walked away now.
Breakfast was as many eggs and mini sausages as I could shovel into my mouth. I ate to forget, to avoid. I ate to not think, to fill my thoughts so thoroughly with taste that it absorbed everything. By the time Blake plopped into the chair beside me in the dining room, I was on my ninth sausage. He sat down with a plateful of bacon and raisin toast without a word. Glaring at me, he took big, vicious bites of the toast. I kept my gaze averted and said nothing.
The rest of breakfast was tense waiting. When I left the table, Blake still had half his toast left. He grabbed it and took it along with him as he strode after me.
In the room, we went through a mechanical depositing of things into the duffel bag before we stormed to the front desk and dropped off the key. We still hadn’t said a word to each other.
Once we got outside, I paused and turned to Blake. My gaze beseeched his, and his face softened.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. His face transformed before my eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he replied in a snarl.
He strode ahead of me and asked, “Where to now?”
I looked at my phone. It was only 10 a.m.
“Explore Bookseller’s?” I said.
Blake’s response was to walk in the direction of the building that Explore Bookseller was in. The walk there was long and awkward, each of us hurrying forward with our gazes straight ahead.
Every time I glanced over, Blake’s face was that same implacable mask, almost unrecognizable.
I should have talked to him, said something, especially now before we saw Lila of all people. But I couldn’t. Letting things take their doomed course, watching it all fall apart helplessly, was better than trying with all I had and failing.
This visit to Explore Bookseller was much different than the last. Since both seats were taken by slouching youths, Blake and I were forced to stand. We read our respective books (mine being Anna Karenina and his All the Pretty Horses) in separate corners.
Finally, after I’d read the same sentence four times, a quick glance at my watch confirmed it was time to go.
Another awkward walk in silence. It was obvious when we got there, as the Aspen Hickory House was hard to miss. Topped with a giant snarling bear and plastered with signs of all types, we would have needed to have our eyes closed to not find it.
My feet felt like they weighed 100 pounds as I walked up to the door. I didn’t want to do this: see Lila, hear what she had to say. I knew how this ended.
Inside there was a mishmash of signs and sports memorabilia, and tourists and locals alike jovially spooned down steaming dishes.
“CLAIRE!”
There, in the corner of the room, yelling so loudly she could have been right in front of us, was Lila.
She swept up and over in a flash of red hair and neon pants and enveloped me in her arms.
“Claire! You’re all right! You’re fine! You look fine. Are you fine?” Before I could respond, she said, “I’m so glad you’re all right!”
Then, again before I could answer, her red mouth curving, she declared, “God, Angelo was always such a bastard. Good riddance!”
By this point, many of the other restaurant-goers were casting furtive looks in our direction, while Blake remained resolutely beside me.
Lila, however, blabbed on obliviously. “Well you look fine. I got us a table by the back. You’ll have to show me all around. Oh, it’s going to be great!”
I smiled thinly, and just as I was about to point out Blake, Lila noticed him. She squinted at him for a minute and then turned and started walking toward the table she’d been at before. Blake and I followed her.
Lila stopped and turned around after a second. Squinting again, she asked Blake, “Sorry, who are you?”
Blake threw out his hand. “I’m Blake. I helped save Claire from Angelo. She hid out in my cabin for a while.”
Lila stared at the hand for a minute and then directed her glare at me.
“I’m sorry, Lila,” I said. “I meant to tell you, only everything’s been such a confused whirl that—”
“So,” Lila said, her squint now so intense that her glasses-clad eyes almost looked closed, “you were staying in his cabin—to hide from Angelo.”
“She’s still staying there, actually,” Blake said. “Though last night we stayed at the Mountain Chalet.”
Lila’s eyes were frozen on me. She didn’t react. She acted as though Blake hadn’t spoken at all.
&n
bsp; “Why don’t we go to the table?” I bleated, hurrying to the back.
Already, this was going even worse than I’d feared.
When we got there, Lila yanked me down beside her and cast one furtive look at Blake before turning to me.
“So Angelo’s in jail then and staying there?”
“Yes,” I said. “I gave my statement at the Aspen police station. I saw him kill a man, and then he tried sending a fake police officer after me and, later, blowing up my car and shooting Blake and me.”