The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska)

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  Lana rolled her eyes. “One day, you will be less of a stick-in-the-mud. I will break you.”

  Taking a sip of her moose pee, Zoey shot her friend a sassy look. “You’re welcome to try.”

  Theirs was a strange friendship, but somehow it worked. They had next to nothing in common, but they complemented each other well. Zoey didn’t want to be the center of attention, and Lana had that covered. Lana needed someone she could trust, someone she could talk to with impunity, no matter what she’d gotten herself into this time. Zoey was good at listening without judging too much…or calling the cops.

  Another rattle of ice—this time in a glass—was equally hard to ignore.

  “Try not to let your eyes fall out of your head, love,” Lana murmured.

  “Shut up.” Hiking her book higher up, Zoey glanced guiltily over the top. Sexy T-shirt guy’s attention was locked right on them even as he worked.

  “How’s your water, Zoey?”

  “Don’t tease her, Graham.” Lana tsked, a tease-me-instead tsk if there ever was one. “Zoey won’t fall for your tricks.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Lana rolled her eyes. “Don’t trust him, Zoey. Graham might look like a sweet thing, but he’s a snob through and through. To him, we’re the enemy.”

  Instead of being offended, Graham just dribbled a splash of red-colored liquor over the brightest, bluest cocktail Zoey had ever seen. “Hey, Zoey. Have you ever read Where the Red Fern Grows?”

  Zoey blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “So, this kid wants to earn some money, and he decides to do it by catching raccoons for their pelts. He figures out the raccoons will stick their hands in a coffee can to grab a piece of shiny tin and get stuck. Mean, right?”

  She tilted her head, confused at the randomness of his comments, then squeaked in alarm as Graham abandoned his counter and headed for their table. “He’s coming over here, Lana,” she hissed.

  “I know.” Even her jet-setting friend seemed impressed. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever seen his feet before.”

  Setting down the drink and some unknown kind of bratwurst in front of her, Graham gave them a sexy smile. “My motto has always been not to grab the sparkly stuff. Lana’s sparkly, and I’m liable to lose my pelt when she’s done with me.”

  “If Lana lets you get a paw on her, just let go before you get bonked in the head.” Zoey returned his smile with a shy one of her own.

  “Hey!” Lana protested, but not with nearly enough vigor, her attention already straying across the room. In all their years of friendship, Zoey could count on her fingers how often Lana had managed to sit still for more than a couple of minutes.

  Sexy T-shirt guy must have known Lana well. “I’m too lazy to keep up with her anyway. Enjoy your Growly Bear. This one’s on me. Just drink it slow.”

  Mesmerized by how bright and blue it was, Zoey picked up her drink with a murmured thanks. Why were there blue gummy bears swimming in the liquid? Or were they drowning? Currently, Zoey was drowning in the cuteness of her dinner. It looked like a normal bratwurst, but he’d slipped a pair of paper antlers over one end and added two eyes and a toothy grin with ketchup.

  “This smells delicious, but it’s too freaking cute to eat.”

  Arching an eyebrow at his generosity, Lana waited until Graham was headed back to the grill before leaning in, her voice lowered conspiratorially. “He only gives kids the antlers. And he never gives anyone anything for free.” Lana’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “He likes you. I’ll ask what he’s doing later.”

  “No.” Her face flushing, Zoey gave her a warning look. “Lana, don’t you dare.”

  “I’m doing it.”

  Just as Lana started to open her mouth in Graham’s direction, Zoey squeaked out one of her best threats. “I know your natural hair color.”

  Lana paused, considering it. “Fine. But you’re no fun.”

  No one should look that good walking across a room or ignoring the customers vying for his attention. Zoey took a bite of the dog as she watched Graham, then immediately spat it out. It tasted awful, the meat filled with a heavy combination of spices that made Zoey gag. In a panic to get the taste out of her mouth, Zoey grabbed for the drink, taking a slug of the bright blue liquid. She was drinking fire. Sugary fire.

  Lana dissolved into laughter at the expression on her face.

  “What’s in this?” Choking and sputtering, Zoey took refuge in her pee water.

  “It’s better not to ask,” Graham replied at the same time as Lana patted her hand and said, “Don’t worry. Reindeer is an acquired taste. By the time we leave, you’ll love them.”

  “I’m eating a reindeer?” A sweet, cuddly, pulls Santa’s sleigh at Christmastime reindeer? Zoey stared at them in horror. She was eating Rudolph. She had just swallowed Rudolph by-product.

  Graham said to her from behind his grill, “Welcome to Alaska, Zoey.”

  Well, there was no going back now. Grabbing the Growly Bear, Zoey took another drink.

  Chapter 2

  Lana’s generosity had led to…shenanigans.

  Disturbing beer-inspired shenanigans that would have horrified the younger, more impressionable version of Graham. Someone tried to summit Frank the Mounted Moose’s impressive antlers and almost succeeded. Another failed in such dramatic fashion, Graham was forced to water down everyone’s drinks. Finally, when they were dangerously close to becoming a fun place to hang out, Graham declared it closing time.

  It was barely ten.

  Sometimes he closed as late as midnight in the summer, knowing his town stayed up and wanted somewhere to eat during the sunlight-filled evening, but that changed depending on his mood. He was less reliable in the winter, and when the Seawolves were playing, he’d been known to not bother opening at all.

  Boy, did the tourists online review the snot out of him for that.

  “Out!” Graham called cheerfully to the remaining stragglers. “Sorry, ladies. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  “But, Graham—”

  “Nope. Back to whence you came. Shoo, tourists, you are no longer trapped today.”

  Locking the door, Graham turned to the mess he’d have to clean up and blinked.

  There was a drunk bookworm in his diner.

  Somehow during all the craziness of the evening, Graham failed to notice Lana had left, but her friend had not. Zoey had abandoned her table and was now curled up on a seat against the wall, wedged next to a pay phone that hadn’t worked since Graham bought the place.

  She was still trying to read her book, but she was half-asleep, and her book was upside down.

  Huh. He’d only given her the one drink, and that had been hours ago. Joining her by the pay phone, Graham hunkered down so they were eye level, voice softened to sound unthreatening.

  “Hey there, Zoey Bear. Where did Lana go? You need a ride home. We’re all closed up here.”

  Zoey peered at him suspiciously, then shook her head. “I need my glasses,” she slurred. “I can’t see. Danger, danger, Will Robinson.”

  Graham grinned, because for a tourist, she was kind of growing on him. Trying to adjust her glasses on her nose, Zoey failed to realize that she’d been using them as a bookmark. Taking her very delicate frames, Graham carefully opened them and set them on her nose.

  “Imma call a cab.” When she started to stand, she ended up staggering. “Whoops.”

  Graham caught her arm to steady her. “Hey, Zoey? Did anyone else but me give you a drink tonight?”

  “Nope. But Lana had some aspirin.”

  “Are you sure you took aspirin?”

  Sticking her nose in his face, Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure I took aspirin?”

  Well. This was a first on his watch. “Give me your phone, Zoey. I want to
call your friend.”

  It took her a minute to find her phone in her hand, but with Graham’s help, Zoey got there eventually. She proudly presented it to him. Without asking permission, he squished her thumb on the phone to unlock it, then found Lana’s name on the recent calls list.

  “Yes?” A familiar purr answered on the fourth ring. “I’m rather busy, love.”

  “Lana, it’s Graham. Tell me you didn’t give Zoey drugs when she was drinking. Do I need to call an ambulance right now?”

  “Oh, no. She’s a lightweight. She never drinks.”

  Graham growled. “And you convinced her to start with a Growly Bear? Come on, L. I trusted you.”

  “Hmm, I’m sure she’ll be fine. You always take such good care of us.”

  “What did you give her?” Speaking slowly and making sure to enunciate through his gritted teeth, Graham tried to keep his temper. “Lana, this isn’t funny. She’s looped.”

  “Zoey only took a couple baby aspirin for her headache. I’ll come back for her. In my defense, I thought she’d already gone back to the resort. She never stays out this late.”

  And he was sure Lana looked her hardest too.

  Graham cursed under his breath. “No thanks, I’ll handle it. You’re a terrible friend, you know that, right?”

  Not bothering to listen to her answer, Graham hung up, focusing on the woman in front of him. He didn’t take a lot of things seriously, but Graham had a singular distaste for people bailing on each other.

  “Your eyebrow is twitching. Up down up down.” Zoey tried to waggle her own eyebrows, glasses slipping.

  “Yeah, well, Lana makes me twitchy.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, Graham helped her to her feet.

  “Don’t be mad,” she slurred. “It’s not her fault. Money makes people crazy.”

  Graham caught a hand in the jaw as she gestured exuberantly in demonstration. “Like, crazy. And she’s got so much. So. Much. Where’s my cab? Imma call another one.”

  “Sorry, Zoey, I’m going to take you home. I’m not calling you a ride at this time of night, because the good drivers are already taken. Trust me, you don’t want the B-team of Moose Springs rideshare drivers.”

  “What’s the mileage on your meter?” One drunken eyeball narrowed suspiciously. “Overcharging is wrong. Is wrong.” When she poked him in the chest with her finger, Graham’s grin widened. “I’m watching you, mister.”

  This sloshy little bit was quickly in the running for his favorite customer ever. And since Lana had taken a dive off the ladder of Graham’s good opinion tonight, the position was currently open.

  Juggling Zoey while closing would have been easier with an extra hand, but Graham was dexterous with his feet when needed, and she was determined to help. By the time they killed all the lights and locked the front door, Graham’s truck was the only vehicle left by the building. With some effort, Graham pried open the passenger side door, freshly bent from Ulysses’s wooing.

  “In you go. Seat belts aren’t optional.”

  “Nope. Nope nope nope. Stranger danger.”

  “I’m not a stranger,” Graham promised. “We’ve already met.”

  Again with the narrowed eyes. She was a suspicious one. Chuckling, Graham took her phone, snapped a picture of the two of them together, then messaged it to Lana. “See? Now there’s proof I was with you tonight. The cops will come looking for me first if you never arrive safely. Lana will tell them.”

  “What if she doesn’t arrive safely either? S’not a good plan.” Even as she argued with him, Zoey crawled into the front seat with all the grace and dignity of a newborn baby goat. He clipped her seat belt and closed her door. Graham sighed as he went to the driver’s side and climbed in.

  There was a burrito at home. He’d planned on eating it by now. But apparently, he was going to the big house instead. This was definitely a Tuesday.

  “Where’s your mirror?”

  “Ulysses got it in the divorce.”

  Zoey tilted her head sideways in confusion and kept on tilting. She tilted all the way over to rest her head on the bench seat back between them, then beamed at him.

  “I’m in Alaska.”

  It had been a long time since he’d seen someone so filled with joy. Even if it was Growly Bear driven, Graham couldn’t help but enjoy her happiness.

  “You’re in Alaska. And you’re going to love it here.”

  If she loved it even a tenth as much as Graham did, she’d never want to leave.

  The short night and the angle of the sun below the horizon left the winding mountain road toward Moose Springs Resort blanketed in a soft gray hue. Thick evergreens closed in as they passed a sign for the resort, darkening the blacktop enough Graham finally flipped on his lights.

  If he hadn’t spent his entire life in Moose Springs, Graham might have waxed poetic about the idyllic setting, a small town nestled in the loving embrace of the towering Chugach Mountain Range. But to Graham, his home was a bowl of cereal. The best of everything was in the bottom of the bowl, with the mountains keeping everything else out. And the resort was a big, crusty piece of cheese that survived the dishwasher and was still stuck to the side of the bowl, currently ruining his breakfast.

  The Tourist Trap was near the clustered housing most of the residents lived in, safely in the bowl. Just outside town, higher up in the foothills to give an incredible view of the mountains and access to the best skiing, sat Moose Springs Resort. A huge, sprawling cedar lodge blending high-class luxury and rustic log cabin mountain charm.

  If Graham could have scraped the crusty thing off the side of his mountain and flicked it away, he would have in a heartbeat.

  When the grass on either side of the road shifted from wild to perfectly mown, Graham slowed down. The entrance sign was impossible to miss, as was the guardhouse everyone had to pass to get inside. Graham knew the bored-looking gate guard, so he didn’t bother signing in. Instead, he raised two fingers in greeting as he rolled past, keeping one eye on the artfully patterned concrete driveway and one on the woman next to him as he drove through the resort grounds. At some point during the drive, she’d leaned the other way, her forehead pressed to the window. The moose goo on the outside of the window didn’t seem to bother Zoey as she stared at the approaching hotel, lights twinkling in the soft dimness of the mountain’s shadow.

  “You still good over there?” he asked her.

  “S’like Christmas.”

  “Yeah. You should actually see it at Christmas. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Hmm.” A soft sigh escaped her lips.

  Graham never—never—went up to Moose Springs Resort if he could avoid it. The place was one big playground for the rich, and they all seemed to find him down at the diner, no matter how hard Graham tried to avoid them. But he’d been there enough over the years, Graham could have driven to the resort with his eyes closed. He parked his truck by the hotel’s valet station and motioned the valets away when they hurried over.

  Graham was more than capable of opening his own doors and collecting the drunk woman staring blearily at his dashboard. When she swayed on her feet, Graham called it a loss and simply scooped her into his arms. She squeaked at the change of elevation, leaving Graham to wave awkwardly at the staff as he strode through the hand-carved entry doors the valets held open for him.

  “Nothing to see here,” Graham declared cheerfully to the startled desk attendant as he went past. “Continue your lives as normal.”

  Halfway to the elevator, it occurred to him that he didn’t know where he was going. And the bookworm draped romantically in his arms was a solid little thing. That or maybe he needed to start going to the gym more often. Either way, he was going to drop her. So he turned around and headed back to the desk and to the stranger manning check-in, a curly-haired youth named…Grass? Seriously? Who named their kid Grass?

 
; Grass must have been seasonal, because Graham knew all the locals. And none of them would have borne that name on a name tag.

  When they reached the counter, Graham set Zoey down on her feet, keeping one arm around her waist to steady her. Upon seeing Zoey’s confused expression, Graham tilted his head to catch her dazed eyes. “Hey, Zo, you still in there?”

  “Violent delights have violent ends.” She dissolved into drunken giggles, poking at Graham’s white T-shirt. “A sail! A sail!”

  Shakespeare. She was quoting Shakespeare while trashed. “Good to know.” Glancing at Grass, Graham jutted his chin toward the woman he currently held upright. “This is Zoey. I think she’s staying with Lana Montgomery. How do I find her room?”

  “Umm, we’re not allowed to give out a guest’s room location, sir.” The clerk typed rapidly at the computer in front of him, but Grass quickly twisted the monitor away when Graham leaned over to sneak a peek.

  “Yes, but she’s not really all that mobile right now.”

  “We can take care of Miss…” Grass hesitated, as if unwilling to even share her name. While Graham appreciated the safety in their protocol, it was late, he was tired, and there was a microwavable burrito at home whimpering his name.

  “Just call Jackson. Or the Shaws. They know me, and they’ll give you the go-ahead. Oh, give me a key to her room too.”

  Grass looked at Graham in horror. “I can’t call the owners or their son this late. It’s two in the morning in New York. I’ll get fired.”

  Why was it always him who had to put out the fires? Didn’t the world understand Graham was much better left to his own devices? Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dialed a number. It rang three times before a tired voice answered.

  “This better be worth it.”

  “Women always are,” Graham joked. “Hey, man. I’m at the big house. Tell them to call your folks. I need an authorization to drop off someone in her room. One of my customers decided to mix headache medicine and liquor.”

  “Just let the hotel staff do it.”

  “I don’t know the staff.” At the offended look from Grass, Graham shrugged. “What? I don’t know you, and you’re named Grass. It’s weird, man. Jackson says to let me through.”