Page 6 of Making New Plans

Harold the lawyer and Sal the grandmother left, taking only half the tension with them. I didn’t move an inch. Neither did Chloe. We sat staring at each other. I could hear her shallow breaths, watched them fill her chest as her throat bobbed. I snatched my gaze away from her creamy skin when she spoke.

“So…”

“So…looks like I’ll be needing that room for a bit longer than I thought.”

She expertly quirked an eyebrow no doubt designed to put people like me in their place. “And what if it was promised after your original stay?”

“Then it looks like you’ll have to make a call.”

“Why don’t you stay in your family’s old house?”

My smugness shriveled. “No.”

“I didn’t ask if you would. I asked why.”

I stood, loosening my tie a bit. “You can ask for a lot of things, but you’re not going to get everything you want. And to be clear, that goes for my ‘training’ as well.”

She rose slowly from her chair. “You’re here to learn a job, Mr. Erickson. My job. Whether or not you’re up to the task has nothing to do with what I want.”

Matching step for step, we skirted around the desk to get in each other’s faces again. Couldn’t say I’d be disappointed if this were a regular occurrence. She smelled delicious, like coffee and vanilla.

In a much softer tone, I asked, “What do you want, Miss Higgins?” The question just kind of came out, but now I was curious. What had she been hoping to gain from this?

Her lips parted in surprise as her guilty eyes flicked from my mouth to meet my gaze. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with wandering eyes.

For a moment, I thought she might tell me, but then her mouth pursed shut, and she backed up a step. Disappointment left me cold in her wake.

“It doesn’t matter. Like you said, I’m not going to get everything I want.” Swiftly, she turned and swiped a key from the front desk. She dangled it between us then dropped it in my outstretched palm without touching me. “Your room should be ready now. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

For once, I couldn’t tell if that was sarcasm or not. I clenched the key in my fist, the metal biting into my skin. “Thank you. Have a good evening, Miss Higgins.”

I grabbed my suitcase, which was, of course, right where I’d left it, and was headed for the stairs when I heard her call out.

“Oh, and Hunter? Meet me here at 7 a.m. for your first lesson.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see a slightly wicked smile on her face, and I couldn’t help the responding twitch in the corners of my mouth. “Wouldn’t miss it…Chloe.”

* * *

I marched to the Evergreen Room, purposely ignoring the familiar trappings of the halls I’d run through as a boy. After letting myself in, I remembered why I’d asked for this particular room. Situated in a corner of the lodge with a view of the river, not the town.

I laid my suitcase on the luggage rack and surveyed the furnishings. Everything looked clean enough—the plaid bedspread unwrinkled and the wooden nightstand and small desk wiped shiny. Even so…

I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out my travel pillowcase. Not that I traveled much, but when I did, I brought my own pillowcase. An incident at the all-boys boarding school my family had shipped me off to left me with zero trust when putting my face on someone else’s pillow.

Stripping the plump pillow, I slipped on my own. I wasn’t as finnicky about bedsheets, but I sniffed them anyway. Lavender mixed with cotton. My mother’s forlorn face suddenly popped into my thoughts, and I stumbled backward. I loosened the tie that was suddenly strangling me and tossed it on the bed. But it wasn’t enough.

Rushing to the window, I threw it open to let the cold breeze in. I inhaled deeply, but still, memories leaked to the surface. My mom crying behind closed doors, my dad’s beer breath as he shouted at the TV, and this damn lodge imprisoning us all.

Whipping the window shut, I grabbed my jacket and bolted. I took the side exit so I wouldn’t have to go through the lobby. Ignoring my rented black Camry, I rushed down the drive as fast as I could in my suit and dress shoes. Downtown Tangled River waited ahead, but anywhere was better than here at the moment. Apparently, common sense took a backseat to sheer panic.

I hit River Street under a full head of steam, warm from exertion in the weak March sunshine. Old demons rose up everywhere I looked. The clean, charming storefronts were mostly the same, but I saw Cheryl’s Pantry where I had to do all the grocery shopping because neither of my parents could make it out of the house. I saw Tall Tales, the burger joint slash bar where my dad had done most of his drinking. I saw the big park in the center of town with its lumberjack founder statue where I’d waited for hours for someone to pick me up after a play date.

A thorny vise wrapped around my chest, and I struggled to breathe. Needed to get out. Needed to hide.

My eyes caught on warm, golden light spilling from large windows across the street. A carved tree trunk adorned the storefront and draped branches over the door. In whimsical gold lettering, the door window read: Twisted Oak Bookstore.

My cold feet carried me to the store before I could tell them to. Something about that beautifully carved tree, the reassuring light from recessed lighting and decorative lamps, and the glimpse of stocked bookshelves called to me. That and it was a place that I’d never seen before.

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