by Dani Collins
“Why? To make more work for himself?”
“Hard to say what his motive was, since he denies it,” Glory said, “but his helicopter pilot was selling the stolen equipment. He said his boss told him to do it and Rolf immediately pulled the pin on working with him. Rolf is hiring anyone who wants to burn their bridges with Basco, but he’s had to bring in out-of-towners to fill in gaps. People are tense. Which is exactly what we need with everything else going on.” Glory blew out an exasperated breath.
Wren glanced at him as though measuring how much of his tension was attributed to that mess. About a fifth, he wanted to say. The rest was all her and her niece.
“The board is pushing Rolf to cut our losses and sell the mountain,” he said instead.
“The board represents the shareholders in Wikinger,” Glory explained. “Rolf is the president and Rolf and Trigg own it, but the board can vote to remove Rolf if they think he’s not running things in the shareholders’ best interest.”
“Profit,” Trigg clarified. “No fu—freaking vision.” He caught himself at the last second.
Wren bit the corner of her mouth.
Trigg whistled for Murphy to heel and they crossed toward the office trailer, which was bursting at the seams as they continued to man-up without having enough desks or space. He had moved in with Rolf, which was like putting a pair of male Siamese fighting fish in the same bowl, but he hated when Rolf made decisions without his input. This way he was there for all the conversations, big or small.
Beneath the open-sided tent that had been their office last year, a foreman was looking over drawings with the operator hired to clear and level what would be their lower parking lot.
Inside the trailer, Chivonne, their project coordinator, was setting out safety vests and orientation supplies for the college students starting as general labor in the morning.
Nate, their project manager, put in twelve-to-sixteen-hour days most of the week, but Sundays belonged to his son, so his desk was empty.
Was Trigg supposed to spend weekends with Sky now, he wondered?
“Chivonne, this is Wren,” Glory said. “Our new manager at the lodge. This is her niece, Skylar. We’re showing them what’s going on here before Wren starts tomorrow.”
Glory had agreed a cover story was the sensitive way to proceed. Rolf wanted to wait for better timing to inform the board that Trigg’s past was catching up to him, given they’d birthed a cow when their star athlete announced he was quitting his sport right before the World Cup, where he inevitably drew a huge, positive spotlight onto Wikinger.
The board loved their celebrity owners. The pressure to sell this land had eased right off when both Rolf and Trigg had swept the podiums in Vancouver, three Olympics ago. Sales of Wikinger equipment had skyrocketed and the board had fully expected that streak to continue indefinitely. Or at least until Trigg suffered a career-ending injury.
Instead, he had quit in his prime, ostensibly to help with the hill construction, which did nothing for their enthusiasm for this project. Things were going to get really tricky when he tarnished the company name with the real reason—his teen pregnancy scandal.
Trigg had never given a damn what anyone thought of him, but supposed the current secrecy was better than being labeled a deadbeat dad who hadn’t been considered good enough to even know he had a kid.
*
What fresh hell is this?
Sky trailed behind the adults from the main area into a smaller room crowded with two desks and crap everywhere. She glanced over the machine parts and file folders and tools and dirty boots and rolled up drawings and loose computer cables. The windows were closed except for one that held an air conditioner that was rattling and blowing cold air. The air was still stuffy, especially when Trigg reached past her to close the door.
This day was starting to feel like one of those dumb field trips where you rode a school bus for two hours so you could learn how they churned butter in the olden days. She was bored and wished the dog had come in, but he had gone to an oversized pillow in the main room. The one person who looked remotely cool and close to her age had said she was leaving to check something called ‘the operations building.’
A man as big as Trigg, maybe bigger, stood up from behind his desk. Uncle Barf. She had seen photos and videos of him. In most of them, he was talking German. They both had stubbly beards, but his hair was darker than Trigg’s, his eyes brown instead of blue. Auntie Wren had said that him and Trigg had the same dad, but Rolf’s mom had died, then his dad married Vivien.
Sky hadn’t liked Vivien and got the feeling it was mutual. She seemed really judgy. At least she didn’t want to be called ‘Grandma,’ or worse, ‘Nana.’ Whenever Auntie Wren used to take her to have lunch with Nana, Sky had had to use super good manners and kiss her cheek and act like it was every kid’s dream to get a picture book of Bible stories written for a five-year-old.
“Danke,” Rolf said when Glory handed him the container of food. He set it on the edge of his desk and shook Auntie Wren’s hand. Once. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a voice that sounded like he ordered men in the army. He held out his hand to her.
Sky knew she was going to get a lecture about how rude she was being. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be here, but something in the way Barf put out his hand and looked her in the eye made her put out hers.
She wasn’t prepared for how firmly he would shake it. Her hand felt squished and she felt a snap in her shoulder. Not painful, but a lot like when she bumped her funny bone. She cradled her elbow and glared at him when he let go, then couldn’t hold his stare and looked away first. She decided she hated him, too.
She had lied to Auntie Wren when she had said she liked Trigg better. She liked his dog. That was the only thing she liked about him or any of this. Glory reminded her of Marvin, like she was being extra nice because she felt sorry for her, which made Sky not like her much, either.
She wouldn’t be staying. When she had told Tony at the mall that she had to move, he had said, No, you don’t. She wished she had listened, but Auntie Wren had bribed her with her mom’s diary. Sky was dying to read it. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Auntie Wren had tried saying, When you’re older. Like it was a restricted movie. That made her think it was full of family secrets or sex.
Maybe she just wanted to know more about her mom. Did Auntie Wren ever think of that?
Trigg was pointing at a poster on the wall, talking about the ski hill. It was a map of the mountains and he was showing where they were putting all the buildings and chairlifts. Blah, blah, whatever.
“We’re trying to purchase this old gravel pit and put a road in from town. It would cut the drive by thirty minutes and give us better access to the new parking lot. The owner has been refusing offers for years, most of them from Dirk Basco. We’re hoping that our firing him plays in our favor.”
“Why does he want it? For the gravel?” Auntie Wren asked, like anyone in the world gave a care.
“He wants to develop this whole hillside with housing.”
Sky was glad she heard that bit about the shorter path to town, though. She had mostly been listening to Rolf and Glory behind her. They were talking in low voices about the food and how late he was going to work and that Glory was going into town tomorrow if he needed her to pick up anything.
Sky suddenly realized Auntie Wren and Trigg were staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“There was a program at school the last few years.” Auntie Wren seemed to be answering for her. “She went to a local hill every second Wednesday. You wound up trying both, didn’t you? Skiing and snowboarding.”
Is that what he’d asked her? She shrugged. “Yeah.”
“And?” Trigg asked.
Sky looked to Auntie Wren, not sure what he was asking.
“Don’t put her on the spot like that,” Glory said. “Whichever one you like better is fine, Sky.”
She knew that, but if she had to choos
e… “Skiing,” she said.
She had hated waiting for her friends when she’d been on skis and they’d been boarding. She had tried snowboarding, but she hated having to clip and unclip every time they rode the chairlift. She wanted to get off and go. Not that she’d ever been allowed to. Stay with the group. Stay on the green runs. Like she was a kindergartner and had to hold onto a rope. So annoying.
A female voice came through a radio on the desk. “Rolf?”
He picked it up and pressed a button. “Go for Rolf.”
“Electrician is heading into your office. Are you free to come over?”
“Be there in five.” He set down the radio and said to Trigg, “Planning the outlets. You’re tied up the rest of the day?”
“I’ll do mine tomorrow,” Trigg said.
“Please.” Auntie Wren held up a hand. “Don’t let us keep you. We’ll settle in. Adjust to the altitude.”
“I’ll walk them back, give them a tour of the lodge,” Glory said, going on tiptoe to give Rolf a kiss.
Sky averted her eyes, more interested in the map, but ugh. It sounded like someone sucking an ice cube.
“Take the dog,” Trigg said as Glory headed toward the door.
She rolled her eyes and opened the door. Murphy stood up from his mat. When she patted her thigh, Murphy hurried out with them.
*
The door closed and Trigg let out his breath. He took his safety vest off the hook and shrugged into it while Rolf did the same.
Rolf wasn’t a big talker, but the fact he took his time clipping on his radio, then opened his lunch to peruse what Glory had brought him, annoyed Trigg.
“Well?” he prompted. For some damned reason he needed to know what his brother thought of them.
“Marvin was right. She has Vivien’s eyes.”
“That’s it?”
“I hope Wren works out because Glory is stretched as thin as we are.”
“Yeah, yeah, and don’t sleep with her. I got that memo.” He was too angry with her to want her in his bed, heart-shaped ass notwithstanding.
Rolf bit into a samosa. Eyed Trigg.
Trigg braced himself. Rolf gave him shit all the time. But from the moment Trigg had stood in this room two weeks ago and told his brother he had a kid, Rolf had kept his opinions to himself. Mostly he asked questions. Are you sure she’s yours? Does the aunt want a piece of Wikinger? What are you going to do?
All legitimate questions, but no browbeating, which was out of character. Rolf never held back. If he was angry, if he thought Trigg had fucked up, he damned well made sure Trigg knew it.
Today, it seemed, he finally had an opinion.
“What?” Trigg said flatly.
Rolf shrugged. “Seems to me you had one job. Keep her off the poles.”
“Really?” Trigg didn’t care if Sky preferred skis over boarding. Much. Okay, it galled him. Especially because it pleased this smug bastard. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Rolf’s mouth twitched.
Trigg tried to knock Rolf’s lunch out of his hand as they left. Rolf blocked him with an elbow, but Trigg’s mood came up a notch.
Chapter Three
“Rolf comes across as Billy Goat Gruff, but don’t let him scare you. He’s a big ol’ softy inside,” Glory said.
Wren thought both men looked like hired killers, but kept her opinion to herself.
“This is quite an undertaking,” she said instead. The amount of activity around the construction trailer and up the hill was even more overwhelming than what was going on at the lodge.
“It is.” Glory made the dog sit and they all waited for a truck to amble by before she threw a stick toward the lane that led back to the lodge. Murphy raced after it. “Summers are extra busy because we have to get as much done as we can before it starts to snow again. Then the wedding.” She rolled her eyes.
Murphy came back to drop the stick in front of Sky.
Glory nodded and advised, “Throw it to the side in case a car comes.”
Sky threw it and Murphy took off. Sky wiped her fingers on her jeans.
“Your coming here is—well, a huge surprise. Obviously. But it’s worked out well that Trigg has retired from competing to work with Rolf. Trigg was the one who pushed for this resort and was mad that Rolf was taking the lead. Now he’s part of it, not coming back to whatever decisions Rolf made. Those two are billy goats.” She knocked her fists together.
Murphy came back and dropped the stick in front of Glory.
“There’s a new sucker in town,” she told the dog, nodding at Sky.
Murphy kept his head low, his body ready, watchful.
Glory sighed, picked up the stick and offered it to Sky. Sky threw it and Murphy took off again.
“It’s kind of ironic, but—And I’m only telling you this because Trigg pretty much told me the first day we met. It’s also online if you dig around the gossip sites, so not exactly a secret. When Vivien married Rolf’s dad, it wasn’t even a year after Rolf’s mom died. Trigg was already three.”
Sky looked to Wren. She shook her head. She hadn’t known, either.
“So Rolf is taking this in stride. Kind of been here, done this. I’m telling you because you’re bound to see those two fighting at some point. Trust me, it’ll be over something macho and stupid, not you. Rolf is the most unfreaked-out. Dad is the most nervous and giddy,” Glory confided to Sky. “I will pay you real money to call him Grandpa and buy me a few years before I have to make babies. Kidding, but not really.”
“Marvin was really nice to me the day I came,” Wren said. She had instinctively liked him and confided that Sky was Trigg’s before she had realized she intended to.
“Yeah, Dad’s easy to talk to. Everyone loves him. And Vivien is quite sweet, once you get to know her. If she seems standoffish, it’s because of the age thing. She’ll come around.”
Murphy came back and dropped his stick in front of Wren.
Sky stole it and threw it.
“As for Trigg…” Glory wrinkled her nose. “If he seems distant right now, it’s because this is a lot to process. I’m sure it is for you, too. All of this will take time. We all know that. I’m happy to be a sounding board if either of you need one.”
“Thank you,” Wren murmured, appreciating that Glory was trying to smooth this over and extend herself, but Wren had never been one to form deep friendships. The only reason Lydia knew so much about her was because Mandy had confided in her through high school. Lydia had been Mandy’s best friend and was still a good friend, looking out for Mandy’s baby by checking in regularly with Wren.
They arrived at the lodge and Glory took them up to the patio where a pair of guests were enjoying a drink at a table overlooking the pond. The doors to the lounge had been pushed back so the lounge was open to the outside. In the far corner inside, a diorama of the ski resort showed what the hill would look like on opening day.
“Fingers crossed,” Glory said, doing it with both hands, before waving at the bar where a young man was busy prepping for the evening. “Do you have your bartender’s license?” she asked Wren.
“I have a piece of paper that says I’m allowed to pour alcohol.” Wren had applied for it between accepting this job and arriving here. “I’ve never actually mixed drinks.”
“It’s mostly draft beer and house wine. We’ll get you trained. How about coffee?” They walked around the curved horseshoe of the bar to where it became an espresso station in the dining room.
“I worked as a barista after school through high school.”
“You poor thing. I did it for six months and couldn’t drink coffee for three years.”
Wren had saved her resentment for her peers on the customer side of the coffeehouse, who had never invited her to join them. The other aggravation had been working for tips since her wages had gone to her father, to help pay bills.
Glory pointed out a hole in the wall where a take-out window was being installed so people could grab coffee and
breakfast sandwiches without coming all the way into the dining room. Then Glory issued Wren and Sky a food card and told her what times they could get buffet service before she walked them through the dining room to a pantry.
“This was my office when we first got here. Vivien wants to turn it into a gift shop, but we need it for storage.” The shelves were stuffed with dishes and cases of toothpicks and extra condiments. “Let her know if you see a good place to put the shop. Right now we have one of those vending machines at the end of the hall for incidentals like toothpaste and aspirin. It’s in the way and doesn’t hold everything we need. We all hate it.”
They briefly met the kitchen staff as they went through it. Glory showed them the basement storage and the laundry and gym, telling them to use the equipment whenever they wanted, so long as they signed in and out.
“I won’t drag you all the way to the top floor, but if you need anything, we’re in three-oh-one. Same extension if you want to phone me.” She told them how to reach Trigg, then walked them back to their apartment. “Dad usually runs the bar in the evenings. Vivien likes to have a glass of wine and check in with the guests. We don’t have a dinner hour for family. We come down for meals when it suits and sit together if we happen to be here at the same time.”
Glory asked if she could help with unpacking, but Wren assured her they were fine and closed her out, desperate to relax.
“I want my mom’s diary,” Sky said behind her.
Wren sighed.
*
Dear Diary…
“Why are there no dates?” Sky flicked the pages back and forth. There wasn’t much here, just a few pages.
Auntie Wren shrugged. “She never wrote the dates. It starts just before I was born.”
Sky slouched deeper into the corner of the love seat and started reading the childish handwriting.
*
Dear Diary,
Mrs. Claude who is the nurse at school gave me this notebook today. She said writing about my feelings might help me feel better. My feelings are that this is stupid. I don’t know how writing about something can make you feel better. I feel sad. I miss Neil and writing about it won’t make him come back.