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Finding Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 1)

Page 3

by Marcy Blesy


  “Hey. Nice to meet you. I’m Reese.” Dean doesn’t take his eyes off Tinley, but Harrison gives me a cursory once over. He must like what he sees upon closer inspection because he gets out of the hot tub to take the pizza from me.

  “Let me get that for you. Come on. We have a table over there.” I follow him to the back of the pool deck. For a redhead, he’s not bad looking.

  “Your friend tells me you guys are working at the lodge this summer,” he says.

  “Yes.”

  “So, what do you do when it’s not summer? Community college?” Oh my gosh, they’re just snobby rich kids like Tinley.

  “And why would you assume that if I’m cleaning rooms for the summer then that must mean I’m only smart enough to attend community college, assuming you think that’s such a bad thing?”

  “Well…I…uh, sorry I offended you. There’s nothing wrong with community college.” I sigh and grab a piece of cheese pizza, which is cold by now.

  “I attend Michigan State in East Lansing.”

  “You’re a Spartan. Cool. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

  “I didn’t see the need.”

  “I just finished my first year at New York University Law School in the city.” I wipe my fingers on his towel, grab another piece of pizza, and wish I’d never agreed to meet Tinley here. She’s now in the water saddled up under Dean’s arm and whispering in his ear.

  “Why are you at the Tremont?” I ask.

  “Family wedding. Dean’s sister is marrying some guy from Michigan. The wedding is Saturday night.”

  “Here?”

  “The wedding is on the big lawn over there, and the reception is in the ballroom. You should come.” That thought makes me laugh out loud.

  “Yeah, wedding crashing is one of my hobbies.”

  “No, I’m serious,” says Harrison. “You could be my date—unless you have to work the event or something.” He looks away like he’s embarrassed.

  “No, thanks. Have fun.” I stand up and push my chair away from the table, ready to leave. The last thing I need is to be asked out by a guest. It’s one thing to mingle with the guests at the pool. It’s another to party with them. Tinley’s still smothering Dean when I exit the pool.

  While I’m already breaking one rule by being at the lodge pool, I decide to round out my evening by touring the lodge. When we clean, there’s a back door behind the scenes that we are supposed to use. From there a service elevator takes us to the floors we are assigned to clean. There are usually six or seven other girls who all meet up together for our ride to our respective floors. Some are foreign because I don’t understand their conversation, and I’m wishing I had taken more Spanish in high school because they seem friendly. Then there are two girls that clearly know each other from outside of the lodge because their conversations usually cover old news like, “Remember when so-and-so dated so-and-so and she cheated on him. Well, now they’re back together. Can you believe that?” The only girl I’d even want to talk to is a short girl with glasses who has a nervous habit of whistling Top 40 songs. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it. Tinley stares at the girl like she has the plague, but I enjoy the challenge of naming that tune, even if I’m only playing against the girl in my head. Plus, she seems unpretentious which is a refreshing change from my roommate. Maybe I’ll introduce myself tomorrow.

  The long corridor from the pool to the lobby is cluttered with stores on either side. There’s a deli with a sign in the window that says Open for breakfast at 6:30 a.m. A convenience store with extra toothbrushes and razors and candy and pop is across from the deli. The largest store has a display window with touristy souvenirs like Tremont Lodge t-shirts and shot glasses. There are pictures of the lodge in the wintertime in the display window, too. As busy as this place is in the summer, I can only imagine what it’s like in the winter when the ski slopes are open. I wonder if our family ever came here in the winter before the summer I was five.

  “Can’t get enough of the lodge?” asks a voice from behind that startles me.

  “You’re not going to turn me in, are you?” I ask Murphy.

  “Not if you try to get me another date with Tinley,” Murphy says.

  “You are a real piece of work,” I say. He puts his hand on my arm.

  “I’m not so bad. Seriously. Look, some of the guys at the dorm and I are jamming on top of the mountain tonight if you two want to come. I’m done at the gift shop at 9:00.” He sees my look of surprise. “Yeah, don’t hold it against me. I’m a natural with the old ladies, so they put me in the gift shop to entice more sales.” I laugh despite my distrust of guys like Murphy, interested in only one thing.

  “I thought the chair lifts to the top of the mountain are strictly off limits to staff,” I say.

  “They are, but they close at 9:00, too, and there’s a lift about a half mile behind our dormitory that operates until midnight. Don’t worry. Management knows about it, been going on for decades. They don’t mind as long as no one gets stupid and falls off the mountain.”

  “I’ll let Tinley know, but you have a little competition in that market.” I point toward the pool.

  “I like a good challenge. See you around, Reese.” He turns back to the grandma who is buying t-shirts at the counter, most likely mementos for her grandchildren. “And while you’re walking on the wild side, you should check out the library across the lobby from the check-in desk, if you like that kind of thing,” yells Murphy from the counter. I wave a thanks.

  The lobby is huge with large wooden beams spanning the width of the ceiling. Even a wooden totem pole in the center of the room climbs to the ceiling. It is definitely a rustic vibe with moose and deer heads adorning the walls, but they don’t scare me. Grandpa took me hunting for turkeys once when I was about twelve. I didn’t eat Thanksgiving dinner for three years after that experience. It just didn’t seem ethical. Hunting may be necessary, but I identify more with the helpless turkey. Some might say I like playing the victim, but that’s only partially true. How can I be playing the victim when a seemingly innocent family vacation turns into a nightmare making you the poor little girl who was abandoned by her parents?

  Excusing myself around the line of guests lining up to check in the lodge for the evening, I see the double French doors across from the desk to which Murphy was referring. I turn the knob and find myself staring into a huge room filled with books. Obviously a library, what strikes me the most is the ornateness of the room, so out of place with the simple, rustic feel of the lobby. Gold-colored lamps sit atop the end tables that anchor the many claw-footed couches in the room. A huge chandelier with large crystals hangs from the ceiling, casting light in every direction from the sun streaming in through the skylight. Every book upon the floor-to-ceiling wall of shelves is placed perfectly, with spine out, and grouped by size. I run my fingers over the spines and read aloud titles like War and Peace, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, and The History of Michigan. I can almost understand why the employees aren’t supposed to use the library. I mean, who would want to leave? This place is heaven.

  “Those books are reserved for the guests.” I didn’t even hear the door opening behind me. I jump back, startled.

  “S…sorry, I didn’t realize—oh, it’s you.” Lawson is leaning against the thick green curtains that cover the windows.

  “My uncle has a strict policy about the help being in the lodge away from their assigned positions,” he says. “This kind of rule breaking along with your pool visit could get you fired, you know?” I am fuming mad, but I can’t show it. Going home won’t be an option. It’s too soon. I need answers about my family—at least the opportunity to try and find them.

  “It won’t happen again, Lawson. Someone told me about the library, and I have this thing for books. I’ll be leaving now.” As I’m walking past him, Lawson reaches for my hand and jerks me toward him. He smells like he just drank the whole pitcher of beer at the pizza parlor.

  “I
’ll believe you if you can name one book written by George Orwell.” This surprises me because I did not peg Lawson for a literate anything let alone a literature scholar.

  “Animal Farm or 1984. I’m not really into books that invoke fear. I prefer books that make me happy.”

  “Happiness is fleeting. Fear propels movement because you never know when something bad can happen,” he says.

  “Don’t I know it?” I don’t even realize I’ve spoken it aloud, but he releases my hand.

  “I’ll try not to make such a mess tonight,” he says, “you know, for you to clean.”

  “You’re so thoughtful.” I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I close the doors behind me and run back onto the open lawn.

  A magician is entertaining the guests from the stage while the girl with the whistling tick is stoking a campfire and preparing sticks with marshmallows for the children nearby. I guess she has two jobs. That would suck. I don’t even see Finn, who is putting away his guitar next to the side of the stage, until I nearly trip over him as I cut across the lawn toward the dormitory.

  “Whoa, Reese, what’s your hurry?”

  “Sorry, Finn. I was…well…I was actually trying to—I’m going to my room.”

  “But it’s still early in the evening. You’re not mad about my little serenade, are you?”

  “Oh, that?” I can’t help but smile. “That was really nice. Thanks, Finn.”

  “So nice to see you smile. You should do that more often. You have nice teeth.”

  “Nice teeth? Is that the best come-on line you’ve got?” I say.

  “It’s no come-on, just stating a fact. But, if you’re opening the door to the possibility of a come-on, then I’ll be more creative next time.”

  “That’s assuming there will be a next time,” I say.

  “Funny you should say that. Some of us are jamming at the top of the mountain tonight if you want to join us. It’s supposed to be a beautiful night, about as beautiful as you.” I burst out laughing. His face turns as red as the strawberries at my grandparent’s fruit farm.

  “Oh my gosh, that is worse than telling me I have nice teeth!”

  “Fine, then make your own plans for the night.” He slams his guitar case shut and stands up to leave.

  “Wait, I’m sorry.” He walks toward the dormitory. “Hey! Seriously, I heard about the party from Murphy. He wants me to get Tinley to go. If I can drag her away from the rich guy at the pool, then I’ll come, too. I’d like to hear you play again. Really.” We walk together toward the dormitory in silence except for the banging of the guitar case against his leg. “Do you make a lot of money in tips?”

  “It depends on the night. Weekends are more profitable.”

  “Have you been here for a while?” I ask confused since most of the college help arrived a week ago.

  “I’m here year-round,” he says.

  “Oh, that’s cool, so then I guess you’re from Michigan, too.”

  “Not born and bred but long enough. This is my stop, Reese.” He stands at the bottom of a staircase that leads upstairs to the A wing of the dormitory. I’m in wing B.

  “Maybe I’ll see you later,” I say. He nods his head in an It’s cool if you do, it’s cool if you don’t kind of way. I stand there watching him walk up the stairs.

  “You know it’s creepy to stare,” he yells, not turning around.

  “I wasn’t…I…bye!”

  Chapter 5:

  Tinley has been MIA for the last hour. I would normally consider that a blessing, but tonight I need her. I’m not going to that party alone, and for some reason unknown to me, I really want to see Finn. Maybe it was Grandma’s call earlier tonight or Blake’s texts that reminded me that I won’t get this summer back and I should try to have a little fun, too. I pull out my ponytail elastic tie and let down my hair. Usually by this time in the summer it’s a golden brown, but I’ve been too busy cleaning to spend much time outside during the day to get that glow.

  Not changing clothes would be the easiest option, but before I go on the hunt for Tinley, I decide to put on a ruffly peasant top with a sweetheart scoop at the chest. I’m hoping it gives the impression that I’m sweet, not easy. I leave on the shorts and lace up my tennis shoes for the ride up the chair lift. No sense losing a shoe in the tall grass below the lift.

  From the lawn, I strain to look through the bushes that protect the lodge pool from peeping toms like me. I can’t think of any good reason to give as to why I’m in the bushes, so I hope I can find Tinley quickly—but I don’t. She’s not there. I also don’t see Harrison or Dean, so goodness knows where that girl could be. The sound of whistling nearby spins a new plan in my mind. When no one is looking, I crawl out from the bushes in a nonchalant, everyone hides in the bushes kind of way.

  “Hi, uh—what’s your name?” I ask the girl from the cleaning crew and resident campfire builder. She stops whistling and turns toward me with a confused look on her face.

  “Are you talking to me?”

  “I am. My name’s Reese. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before. I clean on floors 7, 8, and 9.” She keeps staring without changing her facial expression. “I’ve seen you on the elevator.”

  “Oh, right. You do look kind of familiar. She smiles, revealing a mouthful of braces.” Poor girl. My braces were off before I even left middle school. The thought of wearing them in college just seems cruel.

  “Anyway, I’m going to a party tonight, up on the mountain. It’s all staff, and some people are going to be jamming on their guitars and…well, I’m not sure what else they play, but I know you like music, so I wondered if you’d like to go.”

  “How do you know I like music? You don’t even know my name.” She has a point there.

  “The whistling…”

  “Are you making fun of me?” she asks.

  “Not at all. I like your whistling.”

  “No one likes my whistling.” She puts her hands on her hips and pivots to walk away.

  “I do! I, well, when my parents were little we’d play a game when we traveled.” She turns back around slowly. “It’s kind of silly, I guess, but my parents would take turns whistling popular songs and the other parent would guess the tune. I was super little. It’s actually the earliest memory I have.” It’s one of the only memories I have, I want to add.

  “I don’t realize I’m doing it half the time,” she says. “It’s not done to annoy people on purpose. People don’t get that.”

  “I do. What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t, but my name’s Bree.”

  “Bree, would you like to go to a party with me tonight?” I smile and think about Finn’s comment about my teeth which makes me smile wider.

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  Bree meets me in the courtyard of our dormitory twenty minutes later. She’s put a rhinestone barrette in one side of her short blonde hair which makes her look super chic. That, and the v-neck white chiffon top with a pale pink tank top underneath and cropped jeans and strappy silver sandals that are not likely to fall off her feet while dangling on the chair lift. I’m kind of speechless. I didn’t know she could clean up so well. I am suddenly feeling very underdressed.

  “Is your friend coming?” asks Bree.

  “Do you mean Tinley?”

  “That blonde, leggy girl you’re always with on the elevator,” she says.

  “I lost track of her a long time ago. It’s her loss.”

  We follow small groups of other college kids who walk toward a chair lift behind and to the left of the dormitory that I had never even noticed before. It’s nearly hidden by the large evergreens that dot the back of the property. After climbing a small path between the trees we come to a clearing that houses the lift.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Bree asks as we watch the lift moving up the side of the mountain with groups of two people at a time in each bucket chair.”

  “Just sit down and watch your head,” I say. W
e watch the couple in front of us and wait our turn, taking our seat when the next chair is available. The scenery below is pretty stunning. Northern Michigan is a lush green paradise in the summer. We have to soak it in for the reserves we need to get through the long winter. It’s not so much different in the southwest corner of the state, either. I wonder if I rode the chair lift to the top of the mountain the last time I was here. Nothing seems familiar—not one thing. The whole purpose of this summer job was to get answers, to find purpose for my life, and nothing, nothing is making sense.

  “REESE!” I snap my head away from the mesmerizing tree line and realize I’m about to climb back down the mountain. I jump toward the side of the car and land hard on the ground below. Jeans would have been a better choice. Now both knees are bleeding and dirty. A hand reaches down. I grab it for help standing up and brush off my knees.

  “You kind of suck at ski lifts.” It’s a male voice. I look up to see two dimples dancing on the face of Finn.

  “Yeah, first time,” I say.

  “There’s got to be a first time for everything.”

  “Not really, not if you never try,” I say.

  “Something tells me you’d try just about anything once,” he says. Silence floats between us. “Did I upset you or something?” No, you just understand me, and I don’t even know you.

  “Does anyone have a bandage?” I ask. Bree hands me tissues from her purse.

  “This is all I have,” she says. “I’ll go ask around.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll take care of her. My name’s Finn.” He sticks out his hand to shake Bree’s who makes her own introduction.

  “I’ll get us something to drink,” says Bree, walking toward the bar that sits on a patio outside the one and only building within sight. We both watch Bree walk into the crowd of people that’s congregating at the top of the mountain, an entire world away from the vacationers below.

 

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