Page 32 of The Heartbreak Hotel
“Hi,” I say, much too loudly. “I’m so sorry, you don’t have to—”
“Louisa.” My mouth snaps shut. “Are you turning me away?” The corners of Henry’s lips lift, just long enough for me to clock the smile before it’s gone. He holds my gaze, traps me, over the length of the hallway. “Be professional.”
Rashad hisses. “Oh, girl, he’s got you there.” My cheeks burn as Rashad reaches forward to bat Henry on the arm. “Thanks for coming.”
Henry smiles at Rashad before looking back at me and repeating, “Sure.”
“Who’s this?” Bea asks, looking from Henry to me as she slides ChapStick over her lips. “Amanin our midst?”
“Hello?” Rashad says, gesturing at himself. “He’s the landlord, I invited him.”
“Your landlord?” Bea asks me, eyebrows rising. “Don’t you own this place?”
“No,” I say, tugging my sleeves down just for something to do with my hands. I’m so flustered I feel like I have a fever. “I runthe Comeback Inn, but Henry owns it, and really we shouldn’t be bothering him with what we’re—”
“He already said he’s not bothered,” Nan chimes in. She’s in her seventies, wearing a sun hat and a bugproof button-down. When she looks at Henry, he’s watching me carefully.
Like we’re the only two people in the room, Henry says, “Do you want me to leave, Louisa?”
I feel Mei shift beside me. I feel six pairs of eyes on my face. I feel something humming under my skin.
No, is the truth. I can’t believe he’s going to make me say it.
You should stay, I told him that night the power went out. Henry’s still holding my eyes across the length of the kitchen, his gaze blue and blistering and guarded—waiting on me. I think of his laugh, the shock of it in the dark under the house. His gentle fingers in Custard’s fur. The way he held out his hand for Nate’s car keys.
I say, “You should stay.”
Fifteen
In spite of Rashad’s stakedclaim over Henry, it’s Nan who winds up glued to his narrow hip. We split into two cars to get to the trailhead—Bea, Kim, and Mei with me; Henry and Rashad in Nan’s Cadillac. When they pile out of its powder-blue doors in the parking lot, Nan hooks one carefully manicured hand through his elbow. Rashad trails behind them like a forgotten puppy.
“She was a Cavalier King Charles,” Nan is saying as our groups converge next to the pit toilets. It’s in the high fifties, the breeze soft as an exhale. “Lived to sixteen! My late husband said it was good genetics, but between you and me, I think it’s the whipped cream I slipped her on weekends.” Henry smiles at Nan, a real one, showing a white flash of teeth. “Those little treats keep us young!”
“She was lucky to have you,” he says, and Nan squeezes his arm.
She glances at me through pink-framed sunglasses. “You helped Lou put together the Comeback Inn?”
“No, Lou was the brains,” Mei supplies before either Henryor I can correct her. “Henry’s just the landlord. And the hiking guide, apparently.”
“Oh,” Henry says, raising his eyebrows at me. “Am I leading this?”
“No,” I say quickly. We haven’t taken a single step into the wilderness and this whole excursion is headed swiftly off the rails. “First of all, I’m so glad you all signed up for this.” I look around the group, avoiding eye contact with Henry since he didnotsign up for this. “I find nature to be really helpful for processing grief, especially in the early days when it feels so consuming and it’s hard to see a world beyond it.” In my peripheral vision, Bea reaches for Kim’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “The woods remind us there’s still good out there, and entire ecosystems that’ll keep living and creating oxygen no matter what happens to us.” I draw a breath as Henry shifts his weight. “That the world is much bigger than our grief, even when that grief feels enormous. So.” I wave an arm toward the trailhead. The path is gobbled up by aspens, their teardrop leaves October-yellow and shivering in the breeze. In a week they’ll be engulfed by deep fall—red and orange as flames—but in the lowered shoulder of a warm autumn they’re still glistening gold. “This hike is three miles—there’s an alternate route that doubles the distance if anyone’s feeling like a longer trek. Since we took two cars, we can always split up when we get there.”
“Three seems like plenty,” Rashad says, and Kim nods in agreement.
“Great,” I say. And then a hot swell of insecurity forces me to add: “And if anyone isn’t enjoying this, and wants to leave”—my eyes flicker over Henry, who’s watching me with an expression I can’t even begin to read—“just say the word.”
“We’re here, honey,” Nan says. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Right,” I say, as Mei snorts. “I’ll, um, lead the way, then.”
I weave through the group and force myself to straighten my shoulders. Doing this work—stepping into my role as a Heartbreak Hotel Proprietor—feels about seven hundred times more stressful with Henry here to watch. I believe every word I said: nature is the greatest force of calm I’ve ever known. There’s nothing better for my own enormous feelings than to be made to feel small. But saying it all in front of Henry turns it into something that feels like a performance I’m being graded on.Let’s try it for six months, he told me that first day, back in his office. If he hates what he sees—if there’s too much aboutgetting over your ex—will he cut it all off early?
“So what’s your deal?” I hear Rashad say from behind me. Our boots stamp a discordant beat on the trail, snapping twigs and shuffling gravel.
“Probably the same as yours,” Mei replies. “I’m a miserable sack of heartbroken bones.”
Rashad laughs. “How long ago?”
