by Blesy, Marcy
Lawson looks at my hands. “I don’t see any present.”
“It’s…it’s not in a box. Geez…is this an interrogation?”
A loud sound, like something heavy hitting the floor, comes from down the hall. “What the hell was that?” he asks.
I just look at him like, Really? Do I look like a psychic?
Another thud sends Lawson running down the hallway with me close behind.
“Is that Ted’s bedroom?” I ask, stopping behind Lawson as he prepares to open a door at the end of the hall.
Lawson shakes his head yes. He turns the knob. Ted is sprawled on the floor, a bedside lamp lying next to him, still glowing. “Ted!” I rush to his side.
“Check his pulse!” yells Lawson.
I grab Ted’s wrist and try to remember my Girl Scout training as I feel for his pulse on his wrist. “He has a pulse, but it’s weak. Call 911.”
Lawson is already a step ahead of me. He’s describing the scene to the operator as I lean closer to Ted to make sure his chest is rising and falling. It startles me when Ted reaches out and grabs hold of my hand.
“Someone did it.”
It’s so faint I barely hear him. “What was that, Ted? It’s going to be alright. Help is on the way. Don’t try to speak.” I touch his arm in a show of comfort, but he tenses upon my touch and beckons me closer with his hand, his breathing now becoming labored.
“Someone…gave me something.”
“Who, Ted? Who gave you something?” I ask.
Lawson drops to the floor, grabbing hold of Ted’s other arm, both of us dropping our petty arguments in order to help this man we both care about. It dawns on me that this may be the first time I’ve realized how much losing Ted would affect me. “What’s he saying?” he asks.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense—something about someone giving him something, someone doing something for him. I don’t know. Is there a package on the bed or something?”
Lawson stands up and looks at the bed, brushing the sheets. “I don’t see any package. I need to open the elevator for the paramedics. Are you okay in here?” I shake my head yes, and I wipe away the stray tear that slides down my face. “It’s going to be okay, Reese. Ted is going to make it.” He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a faint smile. I think it’s the nicest thing Lawson has ever done for me.
A few minutes more, and the paramedics are entering the room. I stand up to get out of the way, but Ted grabs hold of my ankle, which startles me. He points to the nightstand, his arms flailing as if it takes every bit of effort for him to keep his arm in the air long enough for me to understand what he’s trying to tell me. I look toward where he points. On the nightstand are a couple of books, a self-help book about making amends—nice touch—a pair of reading glasses, and a nondescript brown coffee mug, like something a child might have made. I look inside to find that most of the contents are gone. The paramedics strap on an oxygen mask before Ted can say anything more. “You can join us at the hospital if you’d like to,” one of the paramedics says as they wheel Ted down the hall toward the elevator.
“Do you think you should get a few things for him—you know—for the hospital?” I say.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I just…I just feel like we should do something.” I sit on the edge of Ted’s bed. I don’t mean to cry, but that’s where my emotions lead me, and once I start, the ugly cry isn’t far behind, the kind of cry that feels primal with the chest heaving and the shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath.
Lawson just stares at me like I’ve lost my mind until he sits next to me on the bed. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. He just offers his arm by holding it out for me. And for the second time in a matter of months I am seeking comfort in the arms of Lawson…and it feels right, not because of any attraction, but because Lawson is flawed, too, and maybe flawed people get each other better than those that seem to have it all together. Plus, Lawson loves Ted. “Maybe I’ll grab a few books or magazines or something,” he says after a few minutes.
I point to the nightstand. “There’s a book there, and I saw some magazines on the coffee table.”
Lawson grabs the book and magazines, and I follow him onto the elevator. “Do you think we should tell anyone?” I say.
“Well, I think some people already figured it out when Ted was wheeled onto an ambulance at the front of the lodge. News travels fast.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I pull out my phone. Sure enough there are texts from Finn, Bree, Helen, and Luis. “I guess maybe you should go to the hospital, and I’ll do damage control?”
“Sure, Reese. That sounds good. Maybe make sure his office is locked down. We don’t need anyone snooping around. Plus, with Georgia gone and all…” he looks away sheepishly, “there’s no one manning the front desk.”
“Oh, Helen was there earlier. I’ll text her to lock up.”
“Helen?”
“I know. I thought it was weird, too, but she said Ted asked her to do some things for her.”
“Hmm…well, they do go way back.”
Before Lawson gets off the elevator, I have to ask him the question I’ve been dreading to ask. “Do you think I should tell Georgia?”
“Why would you want to do that?” His face is turning red.
“Well, they did have a relationship for quite a while. She might want to know that he’s in the hospital.”
“Do whatever you think is right.”
I touch his hand before he gets off the elevator, now back on the main floor. “You really cared about her, didn’t you?”
“It seems I have a knack for ending up sharing the women I love with other men.”
With that, the door opens, and Lawson walks through the lobby carrying Ted’s reading material. Maybe it was a silly idea, but I have to be positive. I can’t stand one more bad thing happening at the lodge.
Chapter 10:
Christmas hasn’t been this anticlimactic since my twelfth Christmas when I all I wanted was the new Nintendo gaming system that all my friends were receiving, and instead Blake and I received matching Shrek Etch a Sketches. Of course, Blake was thrilled. My grandparents actually made Shrek the theme for that Christmas. Blake wore that stupid ogre mask for months, even to bed. No wonder when he had his first sleepover, his best friend Abe woke us all up screaming in the middle of the night about a monster attacking him while he tried to sleep. I think Grandma had to throw out the sleeping bag Abe used because he’d wet the bed so badly. Poor kid was traumatized. It really never occurred to me how much my grandparents played favorite with Blake. Maybe I didn’t notice because I loved the kid so much, too. Who couldn’t love Blake? He never bothered anyone. He always did what he was told, and he made America’s Funniest Home Videos look tame.
I pick at my roll as I wait for my Christmas roast beef meal to arrive. Finn made these reservations days ago. I couldn’t disappoint him by telling him the truth of the matter is that I’d really like to order take-out pizza from the dormitory pizza parlor and fill up on pepperoni and mushrooms chased down with a couple of beers than have to dress up and pretend that nothing is going on at the lodge.
“What’s the matter, Reese? You haven’t said more than two words since you ate your salad,” says Finn.
I put down my roll. “Sorry, Finn. It’s just that there’s so much going on in head.”
“Ted?” he asks, grabbing hold of both of my hands from across the table.
“Well, yeah. Helen went to go see him, and she said he’s still in and out of consciousness. Do you know what that means, Finn?”
“Yeah, I can guess what you’re worried about, but don’t go jumping to conclusions. You don’t know. He might make a turn around.”
“But, Finn, what if…what if he doesn’t? What if he dies? Our relationship hasn’t exactly been spotless since I found out he’s my biological father. What if I never get the chance to ask him questions?”
“Like what, Re
ese? What do you want to know?”
“Everything! What was his childhood like? What did he think about being groomed to take over the lodge? What does he hope for the lodge in the future? What does…?” I look past Finn and stare at the snow falling outside the window.
“What does…?” Finn prompts.
“What does he think of me?”
“Oh, Reese. He loves you. How could he not? You’ve been nothing but willing to embrace the lodge from your first assignment cleaning rooms to running the lobby to working at the rec department—”
“But I failed at those jobs, Finn. And during the last conversation we had, he put me on administrative leave. That response doesn’t exactly scream, I’m so proud of you, Reese.”
“Is that what you need to hear?” he asks, stroking my hands with his thumb.
All I can do is shake my head yes.
After lunch Finn takes me to the library. Maybe the hope for a peaceful day awaits after all. “Why here?” I ask.
“You’ll see. Close your eyes.” He takes my hands and leads me into the library. The smell of the wood fireplace hits me first, and it’s as if all of my stress the last 24 hours—heck, the last six months—melts away by the flames of the fire that is crackling at the front of the room. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
He removes his hand, and I blink open my eyes. “Finn!” I can hardly believe what I see. “You remembered! You did this for me?”
“Well, I’m not sure anyone else would get the references, but if you’d like me to go out in the lobby and ask, I can.” I slug him in the arm, but he can’t stop smiling, either.
A large television has been rolled into the room and sits to the right of the fireplace. On the bottom of the rolling cart is an old Nintendo, with wires connecting it to the back of the old television. A cooler with bottled beer sits on the other side of the fireplace with a big bowl of popcorn on the end table next to the couch. “You really did this all for me?” I ask again, too stunned to move any further into the room. Finn just smiles, his butterfly bobbing up and down as he shakes his head in a silent yes. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” I know my eyes are glistening because the fire looks hazy and smoky. “But…but…Finn!” I blink my eyes and point toward the front of the room where a pillow that’s been knocked to the floor is starting to burn, a single flame licking up toward the ceiling.
Finn beats the pillow against the fireplace hearth while I pull the beers out of the cooler and dump the ice onto the pillow. “Guess that was a close call,” I giggle. “What is wrong with me?” I ask. “Why on earth I am laughing?” But I can’t stop laughing, the kind of laughter that comes from the bottom of your soul and bubbles to the surface in side-splitting spasms of unbridled joy.
“Maybe because I almost burned the lodge down trying to recreate your twelfth Christmas,” he says, pulling me in close. “That would have been quite a news story coming out of the lodge. But it is nice seeing you smile again.”
Finn’s eyes ask for permission to kiss me, but I can’t wait for him to receive my answer, so I kiss him myself, falling deeper and deeper into his spell, into his world, and I never want to wake up. “I love you, Finn. I can’t believe you remembered that story.”
“I remember everything you say, Reese, whether you’re being sentimental or funny or a pain in the ass.”
“Hey!”
“And—I love all of you.” He lets go of me after another intoxicating kiss and walks toward the library door. “Did you know there’s a lock on the inside of this door?”
“I never knew that,” I laugh again.
He points to a large comforter thick blanket that is sitting on the couch. “Spread out the blanket. I’m going to tend to the fire so we don’t burn this lodge down for real this time.”
I pop open the top of two beers and pull the bowl of popcorn onto the blanket and hand a beer to Finn when he sprawls out on the blanket. “Merry Christmas, Finn,” I say, clinking my beer bottle against his.
“Merry Christmas, Reese.” The kissing starts soft and tender with his touches electrifying the few senses that haven’t yet activated. When I’m with Finn, there’s not much else that could cloud my world, even though the world’s pounding can be relentless.
When there is no more Finn to be had, I reach for the Nintendo remote and toss it in Finn’s direction. “I challenge you,” I say breathlessly, “A little old school Super Mario Kart.”
“And what’s at stake?” Finn asks, untucking his shirt from his jeans.
“Hmm…massage?”
“Are you sure we have to play the game? Can’t we just skip to that reward?”
“Sounding kind of sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Honey, I am sure of many things—one of which is beating your pants off in Super Mario Kart.”
“You’re on.” No matter who crosses that finish line first, I’ve already won. Finn is the best Christmas present ever—even better than a twelve-year-old girl’s dream for a Nintendo.
Chapter 11:
A knock on the door to my room sends me shooting up in bed. Who knocks on the door at 8:00 AM the day after Christmas? Finn rolls over, oblivious to the sound at the door. Such a typical guy. I think women are just wired to respond to sleep interruptions better than guys. After all, who’s the one taking care of the kids in the middle of the night? I’d venture to guess the survey says Mom.
I throw on my robe, step into my slippers, and open the door. Two police officers in full uniform, hat and all, are standing outside my door. “Reese Prentice?” one of them, the shorter man with a perfectly manicured goatee, asks.
“Yes,” I say, nervously, taking a step back inside my room. I can see Finn sitting up now in my peripheral vision.
“Hello. Sorry to bother you at this time of day.” He nods in the direction of Finn. “I am Officer Kanicki. This is Officer Folet.” The wiry officer smiles.
“Hi. What can I do for you?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”
“What’s this about, Officers?” asks Finn who is now standing next to me in sweatpants, a t-shirt, and with a good case of bedhead.
“Are you Finn, by chance?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says. I think Finn needs to drop the protective boyfriend act fast or Officer Kanicki is likely to get defensive. I can tell by his posture as he crosses his arms across his chest in a, Question me once more, and you’re going down posture.
It’s up to me to restart this interrogation. “Officers, please come in. We’d be happy to answer any questions you may have. If you’d excuse me for one moment, I’d like to throw on some more appropriate clothes. Have a seat. I’ll only be a second.”
When I come out of the bathroom wearing my yoga pants and a Michigan State sweatshirt, Finn is back to his animated self, discussing the chances of the Detroit Lions making the playoffs. Apparently, Officer Kanicki is a Bears fan. Of course he is. I sit on the desk across from the officers who sit on the new small couch I’d purchased for my room. Finn is sitting in my desk chair.
“So, Reese and Finn, I am sure you are wondering why we are here,” says Officer Folet. He smiles again, which has a way of putting me at ease. He must be the good cop when they act out the good cop/bad cop scenario. “We’ve spent the morning with Ted Oakley—”
“Oh no! What’s wrong with Ted? Helen told me he was doing better!”
“Yes, he does seem to be showing signs of improvement.”
“Thank God,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“The doctors are convinced that Mr. Oakley has been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” Finn and I ask at the same time.
“Ted has Parkinson’s,” I say. “I assumed he had complications from that and collapsed.”
“The doctors believe that the poison in Mr. Oakley’s body has exacerbated the condition,” says Officer Kanicki.
“You mean he’s not dying?” I ask.
“Not than I am awar
e of,” says Officer Folet.
“Did he ingest something funny?” I ask.
Officer Kanicki looks at me oddly. “Miss, I don’t think you understand. Someone poisoned, Ted Oakley. Someone was trying to kill him.”
“What?” I can’t wrap my head around what the officer is saying. Finn puts his hand on my back. “Who?” It comes out as barely a whisper.
“Well, you see, that’s why we’re here,” says Officer Folet. “We were hoping you could tell us about your relationship with Mr. Oakley.”
I feel my cheeks get warm. It’s one thing to tell someone I know about my complicated connection to Ted Oakley but to tell a complete stranger is a whole different matter. “I only met Ted this summer. I saw an ad at the university, Michigan State University, in the student center. It looked like fun to work at a lodge with a bunch of people my age.”
“Yes, that’s what Ted told us, too—but, you see, what I don’t understand,” says Mr. Bad Cop Kanicki, “is this—how does a girl who starts her summer cleaning hotel rooms get promoted to special events coordinator? And from what I gather having talked to a few other people, you’ve dabbled with supervisory responsibilities in the recreation department and the lobby. Can you explain that, Ms. Prentice, because Ted couldn’t—or wouldn’t.”
“He had some tests scheduled, Officer Kanicki,” says Officer Good Cop Folet. “He may have given us more information should he have been able to.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would have,” says Officer Kanicki, “but we’d love to piece this puzzle together sooner than later, Ms. Prentice. I’m sure you understand the seriousness of someone trying to murder Mr. Oakley?”
“Murder?”
“Ms. Prentice, we’ve gone over this before.”
Finn squeezes my shoulder. “I know, but it seems so surreal.”
“Just tell them, Reese. You have nothing to hide.” I glance quickly at Finn. He just doesn’t get it. Sure, I can tell them about the circumstances of my birth, but what about my mom? What about John? And the accident with her death at the lodge? How do I get around that?