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Finding Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 1)

Page 17

by Marcy Blesy


  “He told me.”

  “I hate being played, Bree.”

  “By Lawson?” she asks.

  “No, by Finn.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Bree stands up from the chair next to my bed and pushes it—hard—back under my desk. “Finn did not play you. He has been by your side or making sure that someone else has been this whole time, Reese. Are you blind or just stupid?”

  “Damn, Bree. You’re being a little harsh.”

  “Sorry, but Finn’s kind of the perfect catch, and you’re going to just dismiss him because he’s moving? I mean, did he tell you that you were a summer fling?”

  “No.”

  “Did he tell you that he never wanted to see you again after this summer?”

  “No.”

  “Look, Reese.” She sits down on the bed next to me. “I know you’ve had some shitty stuff happen to you. But not everyone in your life is motivated by something selfish. Don’t assume the worst.”

  “It’s hard,” I say.

  “Nobody said life is perfect or that what is good isn’t worth working for. Plus, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What?”

  “Yep, I kind of dig it here, and though I can’t major in s’more making, I talked to my parents about taking the fall semester off. I really want to study abroad in the spring semester, and I could use the extra money I’ll make here to put toward my plane ticket.”

  “That’s awesome, Bree,” I say.

  “So, anyway, think about what Mr. Oakley offered you. And speaking of s’mores, I kind of have to get to work. Are you going to be okay now by yourself? No more long naps?”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “Thanks for listening.”

  “No problem. That’s what friends are for.” She adjusts the spider barrette in her hair and whistles We’re Off to See the Wizard as she gently closes the door behind her.

  In the shower, I think about everything that has happened. How does one begin to understand the murder of her mother? The dismissal of the man she called father? The introduction of a biological father who didn’t want her? Every one of them abandoned me. The only one who didn’t make the choice herself was my mother. She loved me. She wanted me. That has to count for something, right?

  I dress in a khaki skirt and green tank top and brush out my hair. Everything Bree told me about Finn is true. I’m done being the victim, and for once in my life, the path to my future looks clearer. There’s no sense in denying myself the happiness I deserve. I spritz myself with Happy perfume because it seems appropriate, slip on a pair of flat brown sandals, and lock my door behind me.

  Finn is closing his guitar case when I see him behind the stage. The sunset is near as darkness is falling across the lodge, an omen I refuse to accept. “Sorry I missed your show,” I say.

  Finn jerks up his head. “You scared me, Reese. I thought you were supposed to be resting.”

  “Come with me,” I say. I take Finn’s hand and lead him across the lawn and behind the dormitory toward the employee ski lift. He leans his guitar case against the side of the chair, squeezing nearer to me.

  “Reese.”

  “Finn.” We speak at the same time, so many things wanting to be said. He grabs the sides of my face and kisses me softly.

  “I won’t go,” he says.

  “No, no, no,” I say. “I’m not holding you back from this opportunity.”

  “I want to be with you,” he says.

  “You are with me,” I say, kissing him back, my mouth enveloping his with as much strength as I have left. When we reach the top of the mountain, I take hold of his hand again and pull him off the chair. He follows me down the path that leads away from the restaurant and the party that is already in full swing behind us. “I don’t know how to get there,” I say, turning back toward Finn.

  “Where do you want to go?” he asks.

  “To the grassy hill where you took me after we went ziplining.”

  “It’s kind of a hike from here. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

  “If you’ll help me,” I say. Finn puts his arm around my waist and directs us to the clearing a few hundred feet below the top of the mountain but tucked away from view of the guests below as well.

  “I would have brought a blanket if I’d known we were coming here,” Finn says.

  “I don’t need a blanket,” I say. “I like the feel of the grass.” I sit down and pat the spot beside me where Finn sits, putting his guitar beside him.

  “I meant what I said, Reese. I’ve been thinking ever since we talked. I didn’t expect you to cry.” He brushes my cheek with his hand. “I’m going to tell Mr. Dunken that the timing isn’t right. Maybe I can start next summer. But you have to stay at Tremont Lodge, too.” I interlace my fingers with his. I look deep into his eyes that are staring at me right now.

  “Do you think it would be crazy if I told you I was falling in love?” I ask.

  Finn smiles. “The only thing crazier would be if I didn’t tell you that I felt the same way,” he says. “Stay with me.” He whispers in my ear, sending shivers up and down my arm.

  “I’ll stay,” I say. “I promise.” He kisses my lips again, as my body becomes more alive with his every touch. When we can’t stand it anymore, I roll over and lay against his chest, his arm holding me tight and making me feel secure. We watch the last strands of sunlight fade behind the mountain as we lay there together, not knowing where our future leads but knowing that wherever that may be…we’re in it together.

  Chapter 18:

  “Do you think she can hear me?” I ask. Finn sets the planter into place next to the simple headstone. I place the bin of pansies on the ground near the planter and bag of dirt we’ve carried from the car.

  “I do,” he says. “I talk to my mom sometimes. I mean, it’s not like people hear me or anything. It’s more that my thoughts are directed to her. Does that make sense?” I watch the butterfly on his neck and wonder what it was like for him when his mom died.

  “What do you say?”

  “Whatever I want. I complain about my day, or I tell her about something good that’s happened.” He tangles my hair through his fingers. “Like meeting you.”

  I smile and close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of the day. “Do you mind if…if I do this alone?” I ask. Finn rubs my back for encouragement.

  “No problem. I’ll wait over there on that bench under the trees.”

  When he is gone, I reach out and touch the letters on the headstone, tracing the letters. Frannie Prentice 1976-1998. It’s weird to grieve someone I barely remember. But what I miss the most is what could have been. I saw my friends. I went to their houses and saw what real mothers do for their families, and I never had that. More than supplying your basic needs, a mother fills your soul with confidence and a solid foundation of unconditional love and support. At least, in my mind, that’s what should have happened in my home, too.

  “I’m sorry you couldn’t do that, Mom, because I bet you would have liked to if you could have.” I brush a loose strand of hair away from my face at the same time that a monarch butterfly lands on top of the headstone. It’s brown and black wings flutter as it rests for a moment, the antennae pointing in my direction. I suck in my breath and wave my arms toward Finn, hoping to not scare away the butterfly. When he starts walking quickly toward me, I throw a finger in front of my lips to caution him from talking and point in the direction of the butterfly that I swear is looking directly at me. Finn puts his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on my head. Together we watch the butterfly take flight in the direction of the setting sun until it is no longer in view.

  “I told you,” he whispers against my ear. I turn around to face Finn, his arms still around my waist.

  “I think everything’s going to be okay,” I say. His lips meet mine as we seal a silent commitment to our future, one where Finn and Reese live happily ever after with no more regrets and no more secrets. And for a moment, I let myself believe that’s
possible.

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  Finding Reese

  Loving Reese

  Freeing Reese

  Young Adult books by Marcy Blesy:

  To Know Me YA Romance Series:

  To Know Me

  To Love Me

  To Forgive Me

  To Choose Me

  To Know Me: http://amzn.to/143IM4I

  To know me is to die...

  Seventeen-year-old Mae is convinced that the consequences of her poor decisions have caused the untimely deaths of her dad, sister Laura, and grandma who all die within a year, no matter how ludicrous her thoughts seem to those she loves. The solution? Run away so no one else she cares for gets hurt (even if she has to keep a GPS tracker on her phone at all times).

  Desperate to earn her diploma and salvage something of her life, she transfers schools when people get too close. After switching to Woodson Prep with only two months to go until graduation, Mae keeps her goals in sight. But when she meets Ty, the "perfect boy" with his own secrets and a relentless interest in Mae, she must decide if she can stop running from the past and still protect those she loves.

  For a sneak peak, at TO KNOW ME, continue reading.

  Chapter 1:

  To know me is to die. I mean, to really know me, like when you know I can run for hours without so much as a water break, or that cinnamon sugar doughnuts are my weakness, or that my dad gave me a whole different name. But I don’t let people get that close. I’ve learned the hard way. Too many people die in my life. Grandma said I was only unlucky.

  “It’s not your fault all those people you love die. It’s just bad luck that you’ve had to deal with grief so young. Not fair at all,” she’d said. That was right before she died on my seventeenth birthday and right after my sister Laura, my dad, and my dog Petie.

  I direct Mom Number 4 toward the front door of the high school. I always get a new mom when I transfer schools. I have yet to find a school that allows a seventeen-year-old to register herself. I wanted to graduate in Ohio, but too many people started asking questions. They weren’t important questions. Just stuff like, “How come I can’t ever come over to your house?” or “Why won’t you ever talk about yourself?” or when I do, “That’s not what you told so-and-so.” I had to leave. To let people into my life isn’t an option anymore. But, there’re no worries anyone will start to ask questions here. It’s already March. That diploma is as good as mine. Then I can enroll in online college and try to salvage something of my pathetic life.

  Mom 4 is a crackhead. It’s not the first time I’ve had a Mom that was a drug addict. They’re easy to find, standing on the street corner pretending not to be desperately looking for someone to give them a fix. They’re agreeable. All they want is my money. I have plenty of that. This Mom seems a little rougher around the edges than most. I had to rouse her from sleep wedged between the 7-11 and an ethnic grocery store downtown. She was curled like a ball using her own body temperature as a blanket. When I shook her a little, she started screaming. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” as she rocked back and forth. It took her a few minutes to process that I wasn’t the person she was apologizing to. Then she seemed embarrassed, even patting her hair down as if she could make herself look presentable. After a short discussion, neutral-colored concealer for the spots on her face, a brush through her hair, and a spritz of cheap cologne, Mom 4 was transformed. Right now she shakes as she reaches for the buzzer that will admit us to Woodson Prep School. I imagine she’ll get more drugs as soon as I’ve paid her.

  “Wait!” I say before she pushes the button. “Take a deep breath. Remember the plan. You’ll be fine.” I look straight in her eyes. “Your name is Liza Tatum. I’m your daughter. My name is Mae. I’m a senior, straight-A student. I need to be put on the college track. Okay? That’s very important.” She shakes her head yes. Her eyes scream: “I’m high.” Damn. I should have bought eyedrops. “We moved to Illinois from Ohio. You have all my records right here.” I shove a folder with my transfer records into her hands. I know I could purchase a diploma on the internet. For the right amount of money anything can be bought, but it’s important to me to earn this diploma on my own merits. “Now smile.” She does, only to reveal a mouth with a missing front tooth and stained teeth. “Maybe you should smile with your mouth closed.” She nods. I push the buzzer.

  Down the hall we see who must be the secretary waving us into the office. Her white-gray hair pulled in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and reading glasses on the tip of her nose tell me she’s been around a long time. Most likely she’s been the secretary since the school was built, which according to the imprint on the outside of the building, was 1975. Woodson Prep Private School.

  “Hello. Come right in. You must be Mae. Such a lovely name. I’ve been thinking about you ever since your mom called to talk about registration. I have a sister named Mae. My name is Mildred Baker.” I knew I was careless to blurt out Mae when I called last week. I usually choose something common like Ashley or Emily. When Mrs. Baker asked me my name, Mae came spewing out.

  “Please have a seat. I’ll page Principal Williams and take your records.” I hand them to her.

  “Welcome to Woodson,” says Principal Williams when he emerges from his office. He’s a thin man with squinty eyes, like one of those people who’s always suspicious, “What brings you to Illinois all the way from Ohio?” he asks Mom 4 as he looks over my records. Her eyes are bulging like she’s been asked to answer a question that if she answers incorrectly will send her to prison.

  “My…job. I’m a…lawyer.”

  “What kind of law do you practice?” asks the principal.

  “The kind that gets crackheads off the street.” She starts laughing like she’s manic. I squeeze Mom 4’s hand to remind her who is paying the bill.

  “Can I have my schedule?” I ask before she can say anything else stupid.

  “Sure.” Principal Williams studies Mom 4 but doesn’t ask any more questions. He looks over my records again. I’ve taken great care to make sure the classes I take at each school will match up to the classes at my new school. Graduating with an education, not just a piece of paper, is important to me. “Looks like you’ve been in the college track, coming from public schools. Hmmm. You’re moved around a lot, Ms. Tatum.”

  “Yes, Sir. Mom’s work, you know?” I point to Mom 4 who smiles with her mouth closed. Thank goodness. A lawyer with missing teeth? I think not. “Everyone in this school is in the college track. That’s the beauty of private schools. We have higher standards than public schools.” He pauses. I shake my head in agreement, though I think that’s a bunch of crap. “We also have higher expectations of the behavior of our students. Though we allow students to enroll without a lengthy screening process which is most obvious by out allowance of students to enter with only two months of school remaining…” This time he stares down Mom 4. “We still expect students to adhere to school rules with no exceptions. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I say.

  “Mrs. Baker, give Mae our student handbook to take home to look over the electives offerings. Once those are plugged in, we’ll have you all set to start classes. You can begin as early as tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. Tomorrow will be perfect. Do you need Mom to sign anything?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Baker has some forms. There’s also a student coming to give you a tour.”

  “Actually, Mom has an appointment at 1:00, so if she can sign now I can study a map of the school.” I do that all the time I want to add.
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  Mrs. Baker shows Mom 4 where she needs to sign. The pen shakes in her hand. “Liza Tatum” I whisper in her ear.

  “Hey, Mrs. Baker.”

  I turn around. A young man with bright blue eyes and hair the color of a surfer’s stands behind me with a grin as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

  “Hi, Ty. This is Mae Tatum,” says Mrs. Baker. “Thanks for coming down, but it looks like the tour will have to be rescheduled.”

  “No problem,” he says extending his hand to me. I take it. “Nice to meet you, Mae. First hour starts at 8:00, so if you can be here at 7:30, I’ll show you around.”

  “Thanks.” I look to the ground. Making eye contact with hot guys is never a good idea. They ask too many questions. Questions lead to knowledge. Knowledge leads to relationships. My relationships lead to death. I don’t care what Grandma said about just having bad luck.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh, please,” I hear next to me. Mom 4 is bracing herself on Mrs. Baker’s desk. She’s turning five shades of red. Her hand starts shaking. “No, no, no,” she keeps muttering.

  “Are you okay, Ma’am?” asks Principal Williams. And then she bolts. I don’t know what to do. So much for blending in.

  “Bad sushi,” I add before grabbing the student handbook and running out the door behind her.

  I fumble with the keys to unlock the door to my car. As soon as Mom 4 is inside she passes out on the backseat. I hit the gas and accelerate out of the parking lot before anyone else sees us. Sarah was right. Running away wouldn’t be easy. I don’t know what the hell just happened. I could use my best friend to help me figure this out. But putting her life in danger is not an option.

  “You’re paranoid,” she’d say. “People don’t die because they know you. Coincidences, really bad coincidences are all. I know it sucks. I know it hurts, but pull yourself together. You are driving everyone away by your crazy talk.” That was the last conversation we ever had. She was right after all. I was driving everyone away, and killing some of them, too. I left to protect them.

 

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