by Blesy, Marcy
“You look cute with a ponytail, so young and innocent,” says Finn, kissing me and smacking me on the butt in one quick movement.
“Hey! Play nice. I am young and innocent. Just because you’ve been used to seeing me in a boring navy blue suit for the last few months doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to loosen up.”
“Maybe we should skip lunch and see how loose you’re really feeling.”
I slug Finn in the arm and toss him an egg salad sandwich while I sink into a couch in the library with a chicken salad sandwich from the café deli. “So, what’s been keeping you busy today?” I ask, realizing that I really don’t know a whole lot about what kind of work Finn has been doing lately.
“Always snow removal—shoveling, salting, shoveling some more. One of the chair lifts is acting up. I oiled it up, and it’s working—for now—but I’m not sure how long that will last.”
“So, it gets pretty busy over the holiday?” I ask.
“Busy is an understatement. Tremont Lodge will be overrun soon. Remember all those little kids you admired running around the lawn during the summer?” I shake my head yes. “Well, they’ll be running around inside. Your precious library will be littered with toys and wrappers and half-filled pop cans and gloves and hats and stray game pieces. Just be glad you’re not back on the cleaning crew. Of course, the slopes will be super tight, too. In fact—” He stops to twirl a strand of my hair in his fingers, and I wonder what Finn is thinking. “If you were serious about learning how to ski, now is the perfect time to practice before it gets crazy next week.”
I can feel my chest tighten, and I take a deep breath. “I don’t know, Finn. There’s just not enough hours in the day, and you’re already so busy.”
“Uh, no offense, but I know for a fact that you have a lot of free time on your hands, and I’ve seen the forecast. We’re getting a bit of a break the next couple of days from a heavy snow front. Tonight—we’ll go tonight.” He says it so definitively while backpedaling out of the room before I have time to formulate a more acceptable excuse. “Be ready at 7:00. We’ll eat a late dinner after! Love you!” And he’s out the door without not so much as a goodbye kiss. Damn, the guy is good.
Chapter 7:
After my mani-pedi—pink for my fingernails and purple for my toes because why not?—I decide to bite the bullet and visit Ted to see when my administrative leave will end. I take the back stairs because there’s no time like the present to kick up my exercise regimen. I hear yelling the minute I get to the landing of the third floor. I slowly push open the door and peek my head out. I don’t see anyone, but I let the door close softly behind me before I proceed in the direction of Ted’s office and also in the direction of the screaming match.
I consider just opening the door, but this isn’t your typical, You gave me the wrong file kind of argument, so I put my ear to the door instead. Ted is the first one I hear yelling. “I don’t owe you anything! You betrayed me. You betrayed me in the most painful way possible. It was over a long time ago. You made that decision the moment you spread your legs.” Then there is crying, high-pitched and dramatic. Georgia. It has to be. Who else could it be?
“Ted, please! All those years together…how can you forget how good I’ve been for you—how good I’ve been to you. I bathed you, dammit! I bathed you when you couldn’t even take off your own damn clothes! You gave me a ring, Ted!”
“A lot of good that did. Get out of my office.” Ted is surprisingly calm. Something drops to the ground, more like lots of somethings—maybe the contents of Ted’s desk. The door knob turns. I duck into the bathroom next door, just as footsteps stomp down the hallway. I wait until I hear the elevator ding before coming out of the bathroom. I walk toward Ted’s closed door.
“What are you doing here?”
I jump and turn around in one fluid motion. “Lawson! You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?”
“I was about to talk to Ted about getting my job back.”
“That’s why I was here! But, I have to tell you Ted’s going to be in a crazy pissed off mood—no thanks to you, so maybe you’d better come back another time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lawson’s breath reeks of alcohol. I guess the rehab has worn off already.
“He and Georgia had a huge fight, and she just tore out of here. Didn’t you see her when you got off the elevator?”
“I didn’t see anyone,” says Lawson.
“Are you sure?”
“Georgia left the lodge after the Christmas ball, Reese. I threw her out of my room that night when she begged for my forgiveness. Lying cheat. That’s the last time I get played the fool. I’m so damn tired of getting played!” He slams his fist against the wall in the hallway, and I’m convinced that Ted had to hear him and convinced that I should revisit my meeting with Ted another time.
“Look, I’ve got to go, Lawson. Just consider yourself warned about Ted’s mood. I’ll see you around.” He just glares at me as I walk away, no doubt wishing again that I’d never stepped foot on the property at Tremont Lodge—because, undoubtedly, in Lawson’s mind, Georgia’s leaving him was all my fault.
Chapter 8:
“Aren’t you the cutest snow bunny ever?” asks Finn when he finds me standing at the bottom of the chair lift, getting jostled by pre-teens brushing by with their snowboards and ski poles, all acting oblivious to the girl in the bright white snow suit I’d borrowed from Jeremy at the rec office. He probably thought it was hilarious when he told me white was the only color left in my size, no doubt so it’d be near impossible to find me when I got buried in a hole in the middle of the mountain.
“Don’t try being nice. You know I’m only doing this for you. I hope that tells you something, Finn. I’m willing to die for you just to make you happy!”
“Well, it does make me happy. So, thanks.”
He kisses me on the nose, and it tickles. “Cut it out!”
“Come on. Let’s go.” He grabs hold of one of my ski poles and pulls me onto the next chair lift, ahead of a little girl and her dad who are none too happy.
“Wait. What? Don’t I get a lesson first? You really are trying to kill me!”
“I’m not going to kill you. The best way to learn is to get right in the trenches, as they say. Plus, this is the easiest hill at Tremont Lodge, except for the bunny hill, but you’d intimidate all those kids and senior citizens. No, trust me, Reese, this hill is perfect for you.”
I never feared riding up the chair lift once during all my time at the lodge this past summer when we’d go up for parties at the old restaurant that is now open, at least partially, serving hot chocolate and carb-loaded desserts to hungry skiers for a high price. But right now I’m terrified as I watch the snow-covered evergreens shrinking in size the higher we get. “What do I do first?” I ask as the top of the mountain draws near.
“Hang your feet down and lean forward a little bit. There’s going to be a little hill you’ll ski down first before we get to the bigger hill.”
“You mean I don’t walk to the hill first?”
“Are you sure you’ve been at Tremont Lodge since its first snowfall in November?” teases Finn. “No wonder Ted put you on administrative leave. You’re pretty dense when it comes to the biggest money maker for the lodge.”
His dopey grin infuriates me. “That is not funny!” But I don’t have time to stay angry because Finn is nudging me off the chair lift and onto the powdery snow below. I have no choice but to put my skis on the ground and let them take me down—to the bottom of the mountain or to my butt…whichever comes first.
At first it’s not so bad. I keep Finn’s red ski jacket in view and try to copy him—shoulders hunched over, slightly bent forward body. My skis keep separating, and I’m trying desperately to not break a leg. I am so spitting mad that I didn’t even get a stupid lesson. I can see the lodge again, so I am feeling confident that this will be over soon. A spray of snow in my face from a snowboarder crisscros
sing between people sends me off-course and heading in a horizontal path that can’t be right.
“What the hell!”
I hear the curses before I feel the pain in my hip where some guy has just nailed me with his ski, landing on his butt and obviously blaming me for his own injury. “It wasn’t my fault, man. Some guy on a snowboard cut me off. Are you okay?”
“You have to learn how to react to other people on the hill and adjust your own path. You could have broken my leg, you idiot!”
He doesn’t even help me up as he stands up, brushes off the snow, readjusts his skis, and continues down the hill. Just great. I feel like I’m stuck in the snow forever. It’s like every law of physics is working against me as I try to stand up. Using my pole like a cane, I stumble to my feet and wave off the ski patrol who are headed my way. The only thing really hurt is my pride, and I’m not making it any worse by needing medical attention. Those calls always get radioed into the rec office. That’s what I need—Jeremy getting a good laugh at my expense. I check over my shoulder to make sure no one else is coming, push off with my ski pole, and continue my trek down the mountain. As I near the bottom, the slope of the hill is much more manageable, and I even come to a stop on my own before running into the plastic fence that lines the run. Finn is waiting for me as I stomp over to the chair lifts. “Are you seriously thinking that I am getting back on that chair lift?” I yell at Finn, though I doubt he can even hear me over the screaming kids that are scrambling past us to get back up the mountain.
“Of course you’re getting back on the chair lift,” he smiles.
“Didn’t you see that guy on the snowboard knock me on my butt?” I ask.
“I saw it, but it won’t happen again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it was Lawson messing with you.”
“Ski patrol kicked him off the mountain for the rest of the day—no matter what his former credentials entitle him to. They were pretty pissed.”
“But…I…Oh…”
“So, you see, you’ll be fine. I promise, Reese. Do you really think I’d put you in harm’s way?” He puts his arm around me, though through our layers I don’t feel anything but frustration. “Have you ever heard the expression, when you fall off a horse, you have to get back on?”
“I don’t see any horses.”
“That’s my girl.” Finn kisses the top of my freezing cold nose, grabs my hand, and coaxes me onto the next chair.
When we’re soaking in the hot tub outside the lodge, a steamy 105 degrees softening the stiffness in my hips, I close my eyes and sink a little further into the water. Finn’s arm drapes lazily over my shoulder, both of us near exhaustion. Strangely, though, I’ve never been more relaxed in my entire life as I feel right now. The lodge continues to surprise me.
“Can you believe tomorrow is Christmas Eve?” asks Finn.
“Hmm…”
“What would you say if I told you that I got you your own set of skis for Christmas?” he asks.
“Hmm…well, I’d say that was kind of cool.” I lay my head on his shoulder, nuzzling against his butterfly.
“Seriously?”
“I’m still mad at you for forcing me to try something I wasn’t ready for. It’s the classic case of giving into peer pressure. I’ll have to remember this story for our kids.”
“Kids?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“You said our kids.”
“Oh, I mean, my kids—you know, when I have kids.”
I know he’s smiling, but I don’t look at him. I’ve slipped up already. He doesn’t need to know that whenever I think about my future, there isn’t a picture that doesn’t include him in it. “But skiing was okay, I guess. I mean, I’ll use my stupid gift and all.”
Finn slips in front of me. The last of the hot tub crowd gets out—probably a wise choice. He pulls me off the wall where I’d been resting my head so that our bodies now slide as close together as possible with our clothes on—if you’d call the new bikini Tinley sent me for an early Christmas present clothes. I’ve never worn a string bikini and swore I never would when I pulled the metallic silver slivers of material out of the box, but Finn has a knack for changing my mind.
I open my mouth to speak, but Finn smothers me with his mouth with an intensity I wasn’t expecting, but I don’t resist. I’m done resisting for the day. In fact, my mind is so foggy from the time in this hot tub that I don’t think I could resist if I wanted to…but I don’t want to. Finn finds the sweet spot on my neck, and I wrap my legs around his strong body. Every response from his body screams how badly he wants me. His hands fumble behind my back until he finds the strings to my top. “Finn, there are still a few people here,” I whisper into his ear.
“Who? I don’t care. I can’t wait.”
“You have to, baby,” I whisper, reaching around my back and retying the strings. I splash water in his face, and while he’s distracted, step out of the hot tub and let him watch me walk slowly to my towel, but it’s so ridiculously cold that as soon as I have my shoes on, I wrap the towel around my body and run into the warm hallway of the lodge. Finn isn’t far behind me. We don’t make it very far, though. Thankfully the supply closet on the tenth floor doesn’t have a security camera. It’s still a little chilly, but it is the hottest night of my life.
Chapter 9:
Thanks for a great night. I’ll call you later.
I smile as I tuck Finn’s note under my pillow so I can read it again later. I can’t believe he has to work on Christmas Eve, but I guess Mother Nature doesn’t wait for anyone, not even Santa Claus or Baby Jesus. Plus, it will give me a chance to try to see Ted again. He needs to know how much I miss working at Tremont Lodge and how much I’m going to miss it when I leave in the spring because although I told him once that I was going with Finn to his cruise ship gig in March, we hadn’t discussed the details of my leaving and whether anything would be waiting for me upon my return, if I returned. And, honestly, the thought of not returning makes me kind of sad.
When I walk onto the landing of the third floor of the lodge, it is Helen I see down the hall sitting at Georgia’s desk which is a bit of a surprise. “Helen?” I ask.
“Oh, Reese, hello, dear! So good to see you. What can I do for you today, honey?”
“Well, first you can tell me why you’re here. I know that came out a little bitchy. Sorry.”
‘No, no. It’s quite all right. It’s my day off. You see, Mr. Ted always gives me Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to spend with my family.”
“That’s great and all—but you’re not with your family. You’re here.”
“Can’t get anything past you, can I?” She laughs.
“My family is here, too, so technically we’re together. Ha! The kids are in the pool with their dad. I’ll be joining them soon, another Christmas tradition…swimming in the hands-off pool. Oh, how I love the feeling of being immersed in hot water with your face exposed to the freezing air. The dichotomy is quite an interesting effect, no?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. Finn and I took a dip last night after skiing.”
“How romantic!” She practically gushes joy from her pores.
“It was. I think I need to have more conversations with you, Helen. You’re a great reminder to see the positives in my life.”
“Glad I could be of service. Now, what is it that you need today?”
“I…I need to see Ted.”
“He’s not here.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m just monitoring the phone and things for him since Georgia left.”
“She didn’t leave, Helen. Ted fired her. She’s been screwing Lawson.”
“Keep me out of the gossip. The less I know the better. All I know is that he asked me to monitor things for a few hours.”
“Hmm…well, you have a great Christmas, Helen. Enjoy your family.”
“I will, sweetie. Family’s everything after all.”
&nb
sp; I ponder Helen’s words as I take the elevator up to the penthouse suite. Family is everything, and more than anyone, I should understand what that means. Ted is family whether or not I knew that when I came to Tremont Lodge. I wish I had a Christmas present for Ted, my father, and I rack my brain trying to think what a man who has everything at his fingertips would want. I enter the access code and let myself into the suite. It is eerily quiet, as it has been on each of my few visits.
“Ted?”
Nothing.
“Ted?”
I walk toward the large windows. Skiers float down the slopes in every direction I look. Hills of varying size send skiers of different skill levels drifting back to the bottom—or as in my case, some clunk down with stops and starts along the way, but, nonetheless, they all make it down, and the sea of colored winter gear makes the mountain look like a large, animated Christmas card. Merry Christmas, Reese. The dinging of the elevator snaps me back to reality. Ted is going to be so pissed to see me standing, uninvited, in his living room.
“What are you doing here?”
Lawson. “Are you following me?” I ask.
“I’m not following you. How the hell was I supposed to know that you were in Ted’s living room?”
“Well, then what are you doing here then?”
“I’d like to ask you the same thing.”
“I think we’ve had this conversation before,” I say, recalling our discussion outside Ted’s office the day he threw Georgia out. At least this time I don’t smell alcohol. “Anyway, I’m here to give Ted a Christmas present.”