by Dani Collins
“I wouldn’t have let you take the bus if I knew you were riding it instead of going to school, would I?”
Wren had also learned there was a bus between the lodge and town, but it brought workers in at seven thirty and left at four thirty. One of Wren’s tasks was to coordinate with Chivonne on a schedule that would service guests as well as workers, but since this was the slow season, that was a priority for another day. Based on Sky’s behavior, she wasn’t hurrying to make it a higher one.
Wren was growing frustrated enough with Sky to consider leaving, but aside from genuinely believing she was doing the right thing by keeping Sky here, she was starting to like her job. It was challenging and different each day. Every time she took a little initiative, Marvin creamed his jeans. On Friday, she showed him an app she had found online. It gave employees a means to switch shifts without requiring anyone to phone around for someone to cover them. They could just highlight the scheduled hours they wanted covered and their co-workers could tag that they would take them. It downloaded into a spreadsheet so she could double-check their hours for payroll.
Marvin almost stroked out with ecstasy. “Do you think it would work?” he asked with astonishment.
“It seems straightforward. And the schedule stays live—that way they don’t have to check the bulletin board all the time to see if it’s been updated. They can look at their phone.”
“This is…” He was so overwhelmed, she honestly thought he would cry.
At least she was ending her week on a high note. She only wished Sky would take the weekend off from driving her toward a breakdown.
*
Auntie Wren took her to the town of Haven on Saturday morning and, surprise surprise, it was Boring. As. Hell. There wasn’t even a movie theater. They also found out the town was too small to have a middle school. They drove by the high school and it was right beside the elementary school.
“I’m not going there.”
“The high school? No kidding. You have to finish seventh grade first. You’ll be going there.” Auntie Wren pointed to the school with the playground.
Sky thought about throwing herself from the car.
They went to the main street and had lunch at a coffee shop, then looked in a couple of stores. Auntie Wren said there was no point getting a bunch of groceries since they were eating in the dining room. Sky almost forgot how mad she was and nearly said she would cook. The buffet was fine, but she missed their old, normal meals like chicken wraps or hamburger tacos.
She missed some of her old friends from school, too. Maybe if they hadn’t left Utah, she and Tasha would have made up. All the girls at school had become such gossipy bitches, though. That’s why Sky had started skipping. Tasha had started to act really bossy, telling Sky what to wear and how to do her hair and getting mad because a boy she liked talked to Sky. Sky couldn’t help it if guys thought she was pretty. She was. So what? She still hated her life.
“Are we going back?” she cried as she realized her aunt was driving them out of town.
“You told Glory you would help her with the swag bags this afternoon.”
Because Glory had said she would give her some of the swag along with paying her. She had shown her a pair of the sunglasses that were the kind Kylie Jenner wore. Sky hadn’t believed they were real and asked Glory if they were knock-offs.
Glory had laughed. “That’s Vivien for you. My wedding is sponsored by all the big designers.” Glory had said there were so many famous people coming for the wedding, they had to order bigger baskets for all the stuff being sent to impress them.
Meanwhile, Auntie Wren had paid for Sky’s favorite gum when they were in the drugstore. Wildberry Blast. That’s what she got.
Fuck. My. Life.
*
On Sunday morning, Trigg was more than a little hung over. He and Rolf had their differences, but Rolf kept an excellent stock of schnapps and didn’t demand a lot of conversation. Trigg had invited himself into their newly finished apartment last night.
Glory had talked enough for the three of them as she got into her wine, complaining about Sky. “She wouldn’t do it the way I asked her to. I showed her how I wanted each basket to look, but she kept trying different things. It was so frustrating.”
Was that his fault? Why didn’t she bitch out Wren? He knew Sky wasn’t perfect. He had gone up there because his mother had been chewing his ass off about how rude Sky was. He couldn’t do anything about it, though. Christ.
“Dad said Wren is great, though,” Glory had assured him. “That’s funny, right? We were all so worried that Wren wouldn’t be qualified and I would have to pick up the slack, but it’s Sky who is the problem.”
Hilarious.
Rolf had sipped and said, “Some of the board are coming for the wedding. You’ll have to make a decision soon on how you’ll introduce her.”
Trigg had knocked back what was in his glass and held it out to be topped up.
Now he was paying that bill, staring at eggs he would probably taste twice. Why had he even come down for breakfast?
Without warning, small arms clamped around his thigh and a little voice said, “Gotcha!”
He looked down, head pounding, stomach unsteady, but couldn’t help smirking at the little brown face grinning up at him. His frizzy black hair had been bound into zigzagging cornrows since Trigg had last seen him. How had anyone made him sit still long enough for that?
“Uh-oh. Bear trap.”
Aiden squeezed harder, baring his small teeth in a snarl that was about as menacing as a puppy trying to chew through a shoelace.
Trigg easily picked up Aiden with his leg, lifting him a couple inches as he pivoted to face Nate. “Where’s your kid? Isn’t he usually with you on Sunday mornings?”
“I don’t know where he got to.” Nate slid his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “Guess it’s just you and me for breakfast. He’s going to miss the waffles.”
“Probably climbed into Ilke’s luggage and went to Canada.” Trigg swung the kid around again as he moved to the buffet. “Is that where your girl went? I can’t keep track.”
“Yeah,” Nate replied. “I pick her up Friday night. She’s home a week, then gone ’til the wedding. Doesn’t leave again until August.”
In time for Nate to be working sixteen-hour days.
Trigg had quit trying to figure out how that pair survived. Ilke was gorgeous, but locked and focused on her racing career. Trigg had known her since they were kids and she never gave men the time of day. Somehow Nate had got close to her, though, and he went from easygoing to asshole in a heartbeat if he thought she was threatened. They weren’t sloppy with PDA, but when they were in the same room, they were glued to each other. Her disappearing for weeks at a time had to bother Nate, but he didn’t complain.
“August is South America?” Trigg was trying not to be jealous of Ilke training for the coming season, meeting with techs and putting together the support team that would operate out of Whiskey Jack. He had quit all of that to be a dad and help with the construction of the resort, neither of which had been anything less than frustrating so far.
“She’s going to Argenia,” Aiden said.
“Argenia,” Trigg repeated, looking down at the skinny arms wound like a boa constrictor around his thigh. “How’s the snow in Argenia?”
“Cold.” The kid was three and a half and already knew how to crack wise. Trigg had to respect him for it.
“Aiden, how many sausages?” Nate asked.
“Two. Please. Where’s Murphy?” he asked Trigg, still hanging on.
“In my room.”
“Can I play with him after?”
“Sure.” Trigg realized people were waiting for him to fill his plate and shift along.
Oh, shit, it was Sky and Wren.
Sky wore sunglasses and her hoodie over shorts. Again. She looked like she was half-naked and twice as hung over as he was. His mother had had quite a bit to say about the way Sky was dressing
. Trigg hadn’t been real thrilled the other day either, when she’d been in a pair of short shorts. Some asshole working on the staff house had made a remark about him visiting the well too often if he was dipping that low with his bucket.
Trigg had almost cracked the shithead in the face with a shovel.
But for some reason, as he sensed Sky’s gaze dropping behind the dark lenses to the kid hugging his leg, he felt like he was the one who was behaving in a way that needed correcting.
Trigg found himself looking to Wren. He’d barely seen her since that day when she’d made the crack about what kind of man he was online. When he came by for Sky in the evenings, he sometimes caught a glimpse of her and saw them dish up at the buffet for breakfast and dinner, but they ate in their room.
“Good morning,” Wren said with a benign smile that encompassed both men. Her smile warmed as she directed it at Aiden. “Hi.”
“Aiden, this is Miss Wren,” Nate said. “She works here now. Skylar is her niece and she lives here with her. This is my son, Aiden. I usually have him on the weekends.”
Aiden let go of Trigg’s leg and sidled up against Nate, looping his arm around his father’s thigh, smiling shyly, curious gaze fixed on Sky.
“Hi, Aiden.” Wren bent to offer her hand. The neckline of her shirt gaped.
Trigg shouldn’t have looked, but it happened before he realized who the pale, upper swells of those breasts belonged to. Why were they trapped in a utilitarian white bra? He was offended. Something that pretty shouldn’t be in something that plain.
Wren seemed to enjoy dressing like a line-worker in a sandwich shop, though, wearing boot-cut jeans and shapeless shirts when she wasn’t in black polyester pants and uninspired white shirts, which was the basic uniform for lodge staff.
Trigg was surprised his mother hadn’t stepped in with something tailored, but she did have her hands full with the wedding and complaining about Sky.
“Nice to meet you.” Aiden tentatively shook Wren’s hand.
Trigg wanted to point at the kid and say to Sky, See? That’s how it’s done.
“I was going to ask if we could have Murphy,” Wren said to Aiden. “I haven’t walked around the pond yet. Will you let us know when you’re done playing with him?”
Aiden looked up at his dad. “Can we walk around the pond?”
“We could all go if that works?” Nate flicked a glance toward Trigg.
“Sure.” Great idea. He could lose his breakfast in front of an audience.
They agreed to meet outside and Wren and Sky took their food to their room.
Nate and Aiden ate with gusto. Trigg wondered why he had bothered and thought about taking his plate up to his dog.
“Thanks, man,” he finally made himself say. He and Sky barely exchanged three sentences when they walked in the evenings. He was desperate for a wingman.
He was desperate for a role model. He had a lot of friends, some of them even had kids, but none had a kid Sky’s age. No one understood what he was going through. Who could?
Nate was one of the few people outside his family who knew Sky was his, though. Trigg wasn’t sure why he’d confided in him. He’d only known Nate since Rolf had hired him for this project eighteen months ago, but they spent a lot of time together and made each other laugh. Nate listened, knew when to be sarcastic and when to be serious. When Trigg had told Nate about Sky, Nate had been genuinely happy for him, even though ‘happy’ wasn’t what Trigg was.
He was terrified, which was highly uncomfortable. Who knew a twelve-year-old girl could strike such fear in a grown man?
“No problem,” Nate replied, picking up his coffee and casually threw out, “Understand you need a chaperone anyway.”
Now he truly did feel sick. A clammy sweat broke on his chest and his mouth filled with sour saliva. “People are talking?”
“Number one pastime around here. You know that.”
Fuck. My. Life.
*
Yoga. That was supposed to bring inner peace, right? Wren needed it as she tried to get through another rough week. One more day, one more day.
Then what? At least tomorrow she would have the distraction of work. Weekends were one long toothache with that kid.
She blew out a slow exhalation into the empty gym. A pair of housekeepers had been in here when she arrived, but they had finished up and left for dinner.
She liked to wait until Trigg took Sky out walking with Murphy before she came in here. She had no idea if their walks were accomplishing anything except an increase in resentment from both of them. Wren kept telling her niece, and herself, that they all had to give this time and an honest effort, but it was really freaking hard. For her and Sky and probably everyone else.
Don’t think. Empty your mind. Warrior one. Ohm.
Thanks, Glory, for the sunglasses. Sky wore them everywhere. Wren would have argued harder for her to leave them off, but Sky had also started laying on the makeup. Was that defiance? Or genuine exploration on Sky’s part? Either way, Wren knew that saying something would only make it worse. She had to pick her battles.
Did it matter which battles she picked? She lost all of them. That’s why she’d come here. To quit having battles over every little thing.
Ugh. She tried to empty her mind again. Closed her eyes as she moved into warrior two. Breathe.
Someone came in. She kept her eyes closed.
“We’re back,” Trigg said.
Awesome.
She opened her eyes. He had changed into loose, boxer-type shorts and a wife beater with armholes that revealed tattoos on his rib cage. He was lean and muscly with smooth, tanned shoulders and an unshaved chest. She would have pegged him as a manscaper, for sure. Either way, her stomach tightened in response.
She made herself hold her pose, pretending she wasn’t self-conscious as hell and warming from the pit of her stomach. Her yoga-wear was loose, capri-length pants and a halter bra beneath a loose T-shirt. Nothing particularly revealing, but she felt his eyes travel over her. Was he judging? Did he find her lacking?
Every time she came face to face with him, she felt like this. Scolded and scalded, even though she was doing everything she could to make this work.
Meanwhile, he was putting in an hour a day, life barely dented by their arrival. Like on Sunday. He’d obviously been partying the night before. He’d been moving slow and smelled like stale alcohol. He had carried a cup of coffee around the pond like he was pumping a unit of badly needed plasma into his blood. He and Nate had mostly talked to each other about work. Thank God Aiden had been there, cute little bug. Why couldn’t Sky be that age again?
Wren pivoted her feet to point at the other end of her mat. Reach. Hold. Breathe.
“Is it safe to leave her unattended?”
Probably not. “Why? Did something happen while you were walking?”
“No. But it still seems like she doesn’t want to be here.”
Wow, Sherlock. Apparently, their time together wasn’t wasted after all, if he was picking up clues like that.
“I keep reminding her this is going to take time.” He could consider himself reminded, too.
He grunted in response. There were some clanks. She peeked and saw him loading up the bar over the bench press.
“If you’re planning to stick around, maybe start laying down the law,” he said.
What now?
She stepped her feet together and faced him. He had no idea how hard she was trying. “Are you speaking in general or about something specific?”
“Both. You know she’s been smoking?”
“You caught her? What did you say?”
“I could smell it on her. She said she wasn’t, but…” He shrugged.
“How did she get cigarettes?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Well, you know who lives here. You must have an idea who smokes. Who do you think would give a twelve-year-old cigarettes?”
“How about any of the ten guys
she’s flirting with over at the staff house? I notice you’re not sounding particularly shocked. She’s been smoking already?”
Wren ignored the remark about flirting. She was so not ready for that. She split her ponytail and gave it a yank to tighten it. Bit back a groan of suffering. She hated confrontation. Hated even more when she fell short and right now, she was falling very short on raising a contributing member of society.
“Look, I told Marvin when I came here for the interview that one of the reasons I wanted to make a change was because she had been acting out.”
“That’s what you meant? She was smoking?”
“And skipping school.” Which they already knew.
“You know my mom is losing her shit because she keeps finding gum everywhere? I’m also supposed to mention that you should review how Sky dresses.”
You think it’s that easy, hot shot?
His words shouldn’t have the power to cut so deep. She had pretty much devoted her life to preventing criticism. When it did happen, she knew to weigh it against things like people having a bad day, or they were the type who couldn’t be pleased, like her father. They were small-minded high school girls. They were government types doing their due diligence and covering their own ass.
Trigg was stabbing into her Achilles’ heel, though. Sky mattered to her more than anything in this world and she already knew she was failing her, but she was plumb out of ideas on how to fix this.
Maybe if she was honest? Maybe if he saw this from her side, he’d lighten up?
“I thought the smoking and the skipping was the start of a very natural desire for independence at this age. Experimentation. Pushing boundaries. She’s always been frustrated at not knowing who her father was. I hoped getting some answers would settle her down.”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” He threw up a hand in frustration. “Every question I ask gets a one-word response. How was your day? Fine. Do you want to go to a movie? Maybe. What did you do when you lived in Utah? Shop. What am I supposed to do with that?”
Wren lifted her own hands, shook her empty, helpless palms at him. “Do you think I get anything better out of her?” Actually, she got abuse. He should be so lucky. “If you have some great ideas on how to yank her into line, I’m all ears. Right now, the only thing she seems to care about is your dog. Since that’s the only way she’s willing to spend time with you, I don’t want to take that away.”