Page 10 of Story Of My Heart

Piper

After that awkward but necessary conversation, Tate spends most of the drive ignoring me. I understand the impulse even though I’m afraid I might have broken him. It must be strange for him, sensing the encroaching familiarity of all of the landmarks as we get closer to Sunset Lake, and by extension, all of the people, places, and things he’s been avoiding since he went halfway across the country for his undergrad program.

I don’t know a lot about his former life outside of his big family, but he’s told me enough that I can fill some of the blanks in for myself. He cares about them, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t want to be a part of the lives they’ve built for themselves all the way out here. I think he got lost within the chaos, and for a man like Tate who values being seen, that made him feel less than. It’s probably why he’s thrown himself into his work, building a life where he controls every variable, away from the unpredictable tides of family dynamics.

Thankfully, I don’t need his help finding the place. The GPS directs me just fine while he’s busy pretending to draft a response to an important email from Oscar. From the few glances I’ve stolen over his shoulder, he’s obviously aimlessly scrolling through pictures of cats and starting petty fights in the comment sections of r/ProgrammerHumor. This is a man with a net worth greater than most cities. Unbelievable.

The signs from the main street direct me to a smaller gravel road that winds through a smattering of trees around the lake, giving me a delightful view over the water. There are families out on boats, fishing, waterskiing, or simply lounging around enjoying the weather. Everything seems so peaceful. It looks like something outside of a fairytale. This is the sort of place that people enjoy while trying to escape the stress and unpleasantness of their daily lives. Now that I’m seeing it with my own eyes, I don’t understand how anyone with the privilege to live here could want to leave. Out from the trees emerges the main lodge of the resort, a building that looks like something my kid brother would’ve built out of Lincoln Logs, with the characteristic wooden exterior walls and green roofing.

Scattered around the lodge are rustic cabins varying in size, each one nestled into its own little nook among the trees, providing privacy and a sense of seclusion despite being part of a bustling resort. The cabins are painted a soft, earthy color that blends seamlessly with the natural surroundings, each fronted by a small porch with rocking chairs that invite guests to sit back and enjoy the tranquil lake view.

Near the center of the resort, there’s a vibrant game area where laughter and friendly competition are in full swing. A well-maintained firepit surrounded by benches forms the heart of this communal space, perfect for evening gatherings. Adjacent to this, several cornhole boards are set up on a neatly trimmed lawn, where guests of all ages challenge each other under the watchful eyes of towering pines.

The lodge itself, grand and inviting, houses not just the main reception and dining facilities but also a private floor where the family resides. According to Tate, this exclusive area is their personal retreat within the resort, a private sanctuary with its own amenities and comforts, separate from the guest accommodations but still at the heart of the resort’s lively atmosphere.

Glancing around once again, I let out a sigh. I didn’t know that things like this existed in real life.

I slow the car to a stop, not sure if I should park directly in front of the building. There certainly isn’t a valet set up here. Wherever I park, I’m doing it myself. I’m about to shake Tate by the shoulder to try and garner his assistance when I notice a woman talking to a group of guests just outside the entrance, excitedly pointing things out on a map. She looks to be about my age, with blonde hair in a loose French braid and an athletic and outdoorsy tan, while the polo shirt and name tag tucked into her khaki shorts seem to indicate that she works here. I’ve just barely unbuckled my seatbelt when she turns, looking through the car window into the passenger side, and beams.

Yanking open the heavy front door to the lodge, she peers into the entrance and shouts to seemingly no one in particular.

“Tate’s here!” She turns our way again, squinting as we climb out of the car and head to the trunk for our bags. “And he’s with… a girl!”

I turn to Tate as his hand finds his suitcase, and offer him a long, pointed blink. “Were they expecting a guy?”

“What? No. I don’t think so.” He pauses to think, totally lost in thought and displaying none of the urgency that he needs to as Fallon bounds down the front steps toward their car. “Well, maybe. Not that I dated guys. I just…”

“They weren’t expecting a girl. They weren’t expecting a guy. They weren’t expecting anyone at all, were they?” I point out with a tight smile. It won’t be a very good first impression with Tate’s sister if she interrupts me trying to beat her sweet older brother to death with my messenger bag. I can’t tell them I’m his assistant, because he’s not supposed to be rich, and he’s done absolutely nothing to provide me with a cover story, or pave the way in advance. I never should’ve saved him from that tree branch. Mavis had the right idea.

“Hi! I’m Fallon. The annoying little sister. I’m sure you’ve heard so much about me.” Fallon is so overwhelmingly cheerful that I can’t imagine she and Tate are from the same gene pool, let alone siblings. She looks at me pointedly, waiting for me to introduce myself. I look from Tate to Fallon and back again. Tate just stands in a blind panic, hands gripping his suitcase handle like it’s a life raft in the storm of social anxiety swirling around him.

“Hey, Fallon,” Tate finally manages, his voice tinged with a hesitant affection that seems to battle through his usual reserve. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long? Try practically forever!” Fallon’s tone is teasing but softens as she steps forward. “You’ve missed so many Christmases, we almost replaced you with a cardboard cutout.”

Seeing her brother frozen, Fallon steps forward, her arms outstretched in an attempt to bridge the distance with a hug. Tate stiffens, clearly out of his comfort zone, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he pats her awkwardly on the back, his face a mask of forced smiles.

I panic, reaching for the first lie that comes to mind. The words fall out of my mouth so quickly that I don’t have time to think about the repercussions. “I’m Piper. Tate’s girlfriend.”

The second the last syllable hits the air, time stops all around me. Tate stares at me in abject horror and confusion, his full lips parting into an oval. My lungs stop working, my mind grinds to a halt, and I think my heart might explode. Fallon enters a state of excitement I didn’t know was possible.

“Holy smokes!” she squeals, bringing her hands to her face and pushing her round cheeks way up into her eyes. “Tate has a girlfriend. A girlfriend! Tate! This is the best thing ever! Oh my God, we had all but lost hope! And you brought her home with you?”

My eyes widen into moons. But I can’t shove the words back in now. “I… uh…”

She turns over her shoulder, her braid whipping through the air. “Daisy! Hank! Tate is here and he has a girlfriend! Like a human one!”

“Um…” Tate stammers, his mouth opening and closing in a truly uncanny impression of a largemouth bass or a malfunctioning android. I think I’ve accidentally broken him again.

“Since you didn’t tell them I was coming along,” taking his hand in mine, I squeeze it hard, leaning over to whisper in his ear, “it made the most sense. We’re not here that long. Just go with it.”

“I’m so excited,” Fallon looks at me one last time, before booking it toward the entrance, presumably to shout over the PA system that Tate does in fact have a girlfriend, and she’s here right now. “Tate’s first girlfriend.”

“And that’s why they were expecting a guy.” His first girlfriend? That can’t be right. Tate sees women all the time. He’s not a shut-in virgin. He created an algorithm for a dating app. Obviously, he has dated before. Had relationships over the years? Right? This felt like an easy lie at the time, but now I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t just get back in the car and leave him here to deal with the consequences. The only thing stopping me is that it’s probably a breach of my contract. That and the absolutely helpless look on his face. I can’t just throw him to the polo shirt wearing wolves like this.

We follow Fallon into the main lodge with our bags, making our way through the heavy double door and into what serves as a lobby. My eyes dart around, taking everything in from the large fireplace to the six foot tall taxidermized bear in the corner. I can tell from a glance at Tate that he’s already forgone shock over his fake girlfriend to calculating the number of guests in the lobby, and evaluating all that needs to be repaired or replaced. He’s making plans in his head already. There’s going to be some furious notebook scribbling when we get settled in.

There’s a split second where I start to edge my way in front of Tate to the front desk. As his assistant, it’s always been my job to do the talking, to process payments and handle logistics. But it wouldn’t make much sense here for Tate to let his girlfriend check us into the family’s resort. I awkwardly take a half-step behind him, gently nudging him toward his sister. He’s slow to realize that it’s his responsibility to handle things now, but he eventually catches on, and makes small talk with Fallon as she looks up his reservation and finds us a key and a couple of brochures. She offers to walk us out to the cabins, but Tate declines, reminding her that he’s spent just as many years here as she has, and could walk the dimensions of the resort in his sleep.

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