In Too Deep

by Dani Collins

  You think? That’s what Sky wanted to say, but more because she wanted to hide that she was so uncomfortable. Auntie Wren was talking to her like she was a grown-up. It was scary. Life was way easier when Auntie Wren bossed her around and she could blame her for everything that was wrong in her life.

  Growing up sucked. That’s what she was learning. Part of her really wanted to go back to her old school in Utah and do math homework with Tasha while talking about their favorite cartoons from when they were little.

  “Did she really ask you to call her ‘Grandma’?”

  “Or Oma, which is German. But we’re both American, so I said ‘Grandma.’ And Marvin really wants me to call him ‘Grandpa.’ Glory was right. He’s dying to give me peppermints and teach me astronomy and show me how to fish.”

  Auntie Wren laughed, which made Sky feel good.

  “What about Rolf? Are you going to call him Uncle?”

  Sky remembered something and sat up to lean forward, keeping her voice down. “I heard him and Glory have a huge fight.”

  “When?” Auntie Wren leaned in, too.

  “Last night, when I was leaving Grandma’s.” She only said ‘grandma’ with a tiny bit of sarcasm. “I saw you guys down at the pond so I came out the balcony way. I heard them in the stairwell on the third floor when I got to the stairs. Glory was like, How dare you. And Rolf was like, It was only one question and don’t run away. You’re not a child. Glory said she didn’t even want to look at him right now because he was being a domineering jerk and why would she even want to marry that.”

  “Really?” Auntie Wren’s eyes went giant.

  Sky nodded. She hadn’t known if she should go into the stairwell because she didn’t want them to see her, but hadn’t been able to go the other way because it was cut off by construction stuff.

  “Glory said it was none of his business if she still worked for her dead mom and that if he thought they didn’t have enough time for each other, he should quit coaching Ilke. Rolf said he only asked Marvin if he had thought about hiring someone to look after her mom’s business because Glory was so stressed by the wedding. Then he said he would take her into town right now and marry her at the courthouse. They could tell everyone coming for the wedding to fuck off because he wouldn’t lose her over one stupid question.”

  Auntie Wren didn’t say anything about the swear, just bit back her smile. “So romantic.”

  “Right? Then Glory said she was only going to go to the coffee shop to finish her book because her deadline was what was really stressing her out and did he want to solve that for her, since he wanted to fix her problems so bad. Then he said he couldn’t fix anything if she walked away so come back inside. And she said only if he planned to evolve. Then he said she knew what she was marrying when she agreed to it and were they going to town or not. Then she said she was upset because her mom couldn’t be at the wedding and sounded like she was crying. Then I heard the door close so I guess they went inside.” For make-up sex, probably, but she’d been trying not to think about that.

  “Wow.” Auntie Wren dipped her chin. “Kind of bad that you eavesdropped and even worse that you repeated it.”

  “You listened.”

  “I know. Bad example. But that’s sad, isn’t it? I guess we would have heard this morning if they were calling off the wedding.”

  “I don’t think they are. I saw him going upstairs with a plate from the buffet this morning. I think it was for her.”

  “That man sure says what he means, doesn’t he? And Glory’s so nice. It can’t be easy to hold her own against him.”

  “I think she’s like Grandma.” Sky reached for the catsup. “Only mostly nice.”

  Auntie Wren sat up straighter. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh. Not like she’s mean. Just…like Rolf and Trigg say whatever they want, even if they disagree. Especially with each other. Trigg makes it a joke, but they say whatever they mean and don’t care. Grandma and Glory try to say things in a nice way, but if they disagree, they say so. Marvin never wants to say anything mean or wrong. He wants to be nice all the time and have everyone like him.”

  “Ah. What am I?” Auntie Wren looked like she already knew she was a Marvin.

  Sky decided it would be a good time to taste her fries.

  “What are you?” Auntie Wren asked.

  She’s one of us.

  “I don’t know,” she lied, channeling her new grandmother. “When I was at the base, I started to feel like I could say any opinion and Trigg wouldn’t get mad. He told me not to swear in front of other grown-ups, especially his mom, but even when I was sarcastic, he wasn’t mad. He was sarcastic back, saying things like, ‘Get it all out.’”

  It had been kind of funny, actually.

  “But I felt like… I don’t know. Like I could be totally myself and not worry about it. When he was being critical, he wasn’t putting me down. He just wants me to know what he expects. When I talk to you, I feel like I have to think about what I’m going to say. Like, if I say it wrong, I’ll hurt your feelings.” Lately, she hadn’t bothered to think anything through, saying the meanest things for no reason. Why had she been so awful?

  Sky bit her lip, sure that she was hurting Auntie Wren’s feelings right now when she really didn’t mean to.

  Auntie Wren nodded, but her face was blanky-blank again. Definitely pretending she was totally fine when she wasn’t. Sky wanted to groan.

  “Sometimes I feel like you don’t say what you’re really thinking or feeling and that means I shouldn’t,” Sky said, trying to make her understand. She swirled the tip of her fry in the catsup. “But now I know that you weren’t allowed to talk back or be honest when you were little. It’s still hard for me to be that—” she didn’t know what the word was: something like claustrophobic “—careful,” she decided.

  Auntie Wren still didn’t say anything, just spooned up her soup.

  “Are you mad?”

  “No. You’re right. I don’t like making waves. Disagreeing with or criticizing my parents wasn’t an option. But I want you to have a voice.” She sounded extra serious. Like this was sex ed or the drug lecture. “I didn’t see that I was holding you back. I thought I was teaching you how to keep yourself out of trouble.” One side of her mouth smiled while the other side stayed down. “I’m glad you’re confident in who you are.”

  Sky felt funny inside. Sad for her aunt, but good, too. Like they were making up from their fight, properly. She wanted to say she loved her, but she hadn’t said it in a long time. Why had she been so awful? She wanted to take it all back.

  “You should be trying to give me away. I’ve been a brat for, like, ever.”

  “Tell me about it,” Auntie Wren said. Then widened her eyes. “Oh, sorry, am I being too honest?”

  They both cracked up.

  *

  Wren found it enormously ironic that she spent the week transferring calls to Vivien’s PR specialist that were inquiries about how to reach her. She even stared down a reporter from Billings who came right up to the desk and asked if Wren knew how to contact Sky’s family.

  “All inquiries are being directed to this email. I’m not allowed to comment.” She handed over a copy of the memo that all staff had received, stating exactly that. “Help yourself to our information brochures if you’re interested in the lodge.” She waved toward the rack by the fireplace.

  She didn’t know what she would say about all of this anyway. She had heard through Vivien that the board was livid they hadn’t been told about Sky before the press release went out. Vivien was unabashed and so, according to Sky, was Trigg. Wren didn’t fully understand how the board could take it so personally, but supposed it had to do with the company image—which wasn’t tarnished, in her opinion. He was stepping up to his role. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?

  Did she want to defend him, though? Since their dinner, they had kept conversation light between them and mostly about Sky. It felt more like armed tru
ce than understanding. Fortunately, they were all so busy, they barely saw one another.

  When Wren wasn’t on the phone, she had a million tasks to organize, including filling the flower boxes on the balconies with geraniums, finding places to store yet more goods arriving for the wedding, and assigning the rooms in the staff house.

  Of course, the minute she went to publish the room list, she was informed that Lina was no longer sleeping with Joey and preferred to share a bunk bed room with Corinna from the kitchen. Joey didn’t want to pay extra for a double bed if he wasn’t sharing it, leaving Wren with the delightful task of asking whether anyone wanted to change their status to ‘in a relationship’ and use one of the couples rooms.

  Foreseeing even more bed hopping than shift-switching, she spoke to Marvin, then pulled Paula into the office. Paula was friendly and smart, ran housekeeping like a first mate ran a ship, and could pinch-hit in almost every position when necessary.

  “How do you feel about supervising the staff house?” Wren had asked her.

  A small raise, a handshake and twenty minutes later, they had sorted out the room assignments, the chore list, and a draft of house rules on noise, alcohol and guests.

  Along with all the other activity this week, the staff had been moving out of the last unfinished rooms in the lodge so those could be made guest-ready by the wedding. Tonight—Friday night, no less—they were having a housewarming barbecue. They had invited Roadside Renovations since Devon’s crew had built the bunkhouse, but also because they wanted to borrow their grill. Marvin sanctioned the event, providing frozen burgers, buns and a “You kids have fun, but be careful” speech.

  Wren offered to cover the coffee bar in the morning, to save Lina the trouble of calling in hung over. Like the rest of them, Lina had been talking about this party all week. Wren didn’t begrudge them having fun. There were a lot of demands on everyone right now. The staff needed a morale booster to get them through the wedding.

  She wasn’t the type to let loose with heavy drinking and dancing herself, though. Her idea of stress-busting involved leaving Sky with Vivien and slipping behind the lodge to the spot Nate had staked out to build a raft. She wanted to paint the rails that would be decorated with silk flowers and ivy, but would also keep riders from falling into the water.

  Aiden had made her laugh when Nate had asked him last weekend if he wanted to visit the lumberyard to make Rolf and Glory a present. The little guy had fist-bumped his dad, saying, “The lumberyard. Yes.”

  Wren had picked up the motor and controls that would power the ferry while she and Sky were in Kalispell. Posts had been installed at the shoreline, the cable was on order, the pontoons had arrived and a carpet had been cut to cover the floor of the raft on special occasions.

  Vivien had been over the moon when Trigg had told her what they were planning. She had grabbed Wren by the arm and said, “I love how innovative you are!”

  Wren hadn’t let it go to her head. She’d grown up looking at her father’s cheap fixes for badly needed repairs and didn’t consider herself so much an innovator as a rip-off artist.

  With her nonstop days, she was relieved Sky was tied up with Trigg, but she was starting to worry about Sky’s school assignments. When she had broached the topic, however, Sky had said a blistering, “I’m working.”

  ‘Work’ seemed to consist of driving the little green ute back and forth from the base. Wren needed to have a chat with Trigg about that. Which was another reason she had come out here. Trigg had been working late every night, but she figured if she was out here when he got back from the base, she might catch him.

  Meanwhile, she tried to let all of the stress and phone calls and second-guessing dissipate as she sank into the whisper of the paintbrush methodically stroking across boards. Sweep, sweep, sweep. Dip. Sweep, sweep, sweep—

  A wet nose goosed the back of her thigh where her shorts stopped.

  “Murphy!” She flipped the paintbrush into the air, tried to catch it, felt the swipe of wet paint hit her arm, then the brush landed on her shoe and bounced into the dirt.

  Murphy immediately went to it, but Trigg was there, tugging him away before the dog got paint on his nose. He was laughing.

  “You’re not even wearing earbuds. How did you not hear us coming?”

  “I was thinking.” She picked up a rag and rubbed at the paint on her arm. Her shoe was a lost cause, but they were begging to be replaced anyway.

  “About what? The Middle East crisis? String theory?”

  “Okay, you got me. I was trying not to think. It’s been a busy week and it’ll get worse before it gets better.”

  “I hear that.” Trigg took the rag and tipped the can of solvent, wetting the corner. He handed the rag to her then he poured a small measure into a jar. Wren set the brush in it then used the damp rag to rub the paint from her arm.

  While she hosed the solvent off her skin, Trigg used the rag to get the last of the dirt off the brush, then dipped it into the can and took over painting.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “It’s just this board. I got it.”

  “Um, thanks.” She held the hose for Murphy to lap at the stream then turned it off and stood there feeling awkward. Not sure how to broach a conversation that might turn into a confrontation. She wasn’t trying to start anything.

  Gosh, he moved beautifully. Like a dancer with those long, easy stretches of his arm, efficient, yet thorough.

  Snap out of it.

  “I, um, wanted to talk to you about Sky’s schoolwork.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to ask you how you think we should tag-team that one. I’ve been trying to get her invested in the resort so she has some incentive to get a business degree. What have you got? Where is she, by the way?”

  Wren faltered with surprise, not having expected that he had given it thought, taken action, or wanted her opinion. She quickly recovered.

  “With your mom. The dress arrived. She’s trying it on, then dinner, then Vivien asked Sky to show her how to load family photos into a slide show.”

  “Mom doesn’t need help with that.” He crouched to tickle into a corner with the brush, sending a sly grin up at her.

  Her heart tripped. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t make herself. Her breasts grew sensitive, as though her nipples were tightening. She folded her arms to hide the reaction.

  “I was surprised myself. Your mom doesn’t hesitate when she’s showing me something on a spreadsheet or in the payroll program—which is a total bear.”

  “She’s keeping Sky out of trouble.” He nodded toward the music and laughter filtering through the trees from the staff house.

  “Shrewd. I’ll thank her later. As for school…” She skipped past all the conversation points she had prepared, still taken by that phrase ‘tag-team.’ Vivien had said something similar and it still disconcerted her. Aside from her sister, she’d never had an ally. “I think Sky’s nervous about being the kid with the famous dad.”

  “Nothing I can do about that.” He finished up with a last few sweeps of the brush.

  “I know.” Wren toed at the gravel, thinking she kept forgetting that Trigg was famous. He made her tongue-tied because he was hot. “The night I was at Eden’s, she mentioned a day camp for kids her age. It won’t start until mid-July. I’m hoping once she makes some friends, she’ll want to go to school to be with them, but that could go either way.”

  “Worth a try, I guess.” He stirred the brush in the jar of solvent then used the rag to dry it. “Turns out parenting is a lot of hard decisions. I didn’t know that before. Did you?”

  “Why do you think I’m out here getting high on paint fumes?”

  His mouth twitched. “You’re funny sometimes.”

  Only sometimes? If she didn’t make jokes on a regular basis, she’d be on a bridge somewhere thinking about a swim.

  “Smell those burgers. I’m starving. That traitor dog of mine is already there. Come on.” He washed his hands w
ith the hose.

  “Oh, I’m not going.” She looked around for something to tidy, but aside from closing the can of paint, there was nothing left to do.

  “What do you mean you’re not going?”

  “They don’t want their supervisor there. Talk about a killjoy.”

  “Some of them work for me and I’m going. Rolf and Glory are making an appearance. Marvin would go, but he’s watching the desk so the night manager can attend.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize. I’ll go tell him—”

  “Wren. No. You have to go.”

  “Why? No, I’m just this weird person who showed up a few weeks ago and got a job through nepotism. They won’t even notice if I’m there or not.”

  He looked like he couldn’t tell if she was joking. “They don’t think of you like that. Everyone says you’re a great manager. What’s really going on? Social anxiety?”

  She didn’t want to admit that, yes, it felt too much like the high school cafeteria at lunch where she had always sat alone. Unless she was picked on. She squinted one eye at him.

  “Don’t you feel like you’re a chaperone or one of their parents?” she asked.

  “Ouch. No. How do you feel like that when you’re the same age as most of them? Ohhh.” His face blanked with sudden realization. “You’ve had a kid since you were fourteen. You never got to be one, did you?” He searched her face like he saw right through to the alien she was under her plain-Jane, earthling skin. “You never partied? Went to the bar on Friday night with the girls?”

  “Year-end staff parties at work sometimes. Church socials,” she added with a shrug. “It was tricky with Sky. I don’t miss it.” That was one hundred percent true.

  “Because you don’t know what you’re missing. Come on.” He grabbed her hand with his damp one and started tugging her across the lot. “Like everyone else around here, you need to relax for a couple of hours. You said yourself things are going to get worse before they get better.”

  She wanted to point out that things were especially uncomfortable now that everyone knew about Sky, which was his fault. Him holding her hand didn’t help at all, but she stumbled along behind him while the music grew louder. A cheer went up as a group sitting on the stoop spotted Trigg.