No Place Like Here

by Christina June

  I followed her out of the kiosk, waited for her to lock up, and trudged slowly to the lodge. I wasn’t good with confrontation. I’d experienced enough harsh tones, firm lectures, and disappointed stares in my life that I did anything I could to avoid them. I hoped Hannah would take the lead. Especially given what happened last time Deb and I talked.

  The office was still dark when we arrived, and the coward in me, who had endured years of criticism, felt overwhelming relief. Hannah and I walked away from Deb’s office, past Amos’ classroom full of people—bariatric surgeons this time—past the entrance to the cafeteria, and out the back entrance. No Deb in sight. We checked the parking lot. Nothing. It was as if she’d gone up in a puff of smoke.

  “Well, we tried. Should we wait for her to come back, or should we go straight to Mr. Allen?” Hannah rocked back and forth on her heels.

  Think of your recommendation letter, Ashlyn.

  “Let’s wait,” I said, the guilt tightening my chest. “What else can happen between now and when she gets back anyway?”

  And then, in some kind of epic grand gesture, maybe in the universe’s evil way of proving me wrong, someone began to scream.

  Chapter 23

  I have never run so fast in my life. I ran like my feet were on fire while simultaneously being chased by a wicked witch. Tatum wouldn’t even recognize the Ashlyn who made it from the lodge to the pool in fifteen seconds flat. Hannah got there just a moment before me and flung open the gate. In the deep end of the pool was the little girl from this morning, Avery Chen, flailing and bobbing up and down in the water between screams. One of the other little girls from Avery’s scavenger hunt team stood on the side, screeching, but paralyzed by fear. I understood the feeling.

  Without a word, Hannah dove straight into the water, clothes and all. I watched, frozen in place, as my cousin drove her arms into the water in long, confident strokes. My hand covered my mouth when, still inches apart, Avery’s face dipped even lower as Hannah reached out for her. She grabbed Avery, just as it seemed she would sink and not resurface, and swam with her in long, strong, confident strokes to the edge of the pool.

  “Help me get her up,” Hannah called to me, and I sprang forward. She pushed and I pulled and we got Avery onto dry land. She had gone limp and silent. Hannah climbed out of the pool. “She isn’t breathing. I’m going to do CPR. You go call 911. There’s a phone in the pool office.”

  My feet seemed made of lead as I made my way to the office. I couldn’t get there fast enough. My brain knew there was only so much time Avery could go without oxygen before she would suffer permanent damage, but help seemed so very far away. My heart beat wildly in my chest, a bass drum booming an ominous rhythm. With shaking hands, I finally reached the door and flung it open.

  There was no more time to freak out or think about how small and scared I felt seeing Avery’s tiny frame come out of the water, not moving. I ran into the office and snatched the phone and dialed 911 for the second time this summer.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “There’s a child who almost drowned here. She’s not breathing.” Panic zipped through my lungs as I gave the dispatcher the address. Not breathing. He took some information on how long Avery was in the water and recorded that a certified lifeguard was performing CPR. I told him how to direct the ambulance to the pool and hung up. The tightness in my muscles released a tiny bit. They’ll be here soon.

  Before I left the office, it dawned on me—where was Mallory? She was the head lifeguard. Shouldn’t she have been the one to intervene? I left the office and headed back to the pool. I was elated to see Avery with her eyes open, talking to Hannah. I gave a thumbs-up and went to look for the missing lifeguard.

  I went into the women’s locker room. “Mallory,” I called, my words echoing on the concrete walls all around me. I checked every shower stall and found no one. I went back out and did the same in the men’s locker room. Again, nothing. Weird. I walked around the perimeter of the locker room building, and as I rounded the last corner, in a shaded area, I heard giggling. I inched closer, my stomach practically in my throat. If Mallory was out here on a contraband phone, or just chatting with another coworker, I couldn’t stop myself from getting angry. Somehow confrontation seemed easier when a child’s life was in danger.

  Another few feet and Mallory’s cloud of hair came into view. And just below that hair was a pair of hands, roaming up and down her back. It didn’t take a genius to figure out whose hands they were.

  “Hey,” I said, as sharply as I could muster.

  Mallory and Marcus broke apart. Marcus’ face went from stunned to annoyed to ice. Mallory at least had the grace to blush.

  “Hey, Ash,” Marcus said, completely unfazed. He looked at me and licked his lips. Gross. The face I’d once thought handsome and confident just looked entitled and creepy now.

  “Hi.” Mallory’s voice was barely audible. She took a step away from Marcus and looked at her bare feet. I felt a little sorry for her.

  “Yeah, so while you two were sucking face, a little girl almost drowned.” Mallory gasped. Marcus remained a statue. “I’m not sure how you missed the screaming, but Hannah jumped in and saved her.” I stared at them. “You’re welcome. An ambulance is on its way. I would suggest you get back to your chairs. We wouldn’t want any other kids to go unsupervised.” There was bite in my words. I wanted to make them feel bad. I may have spent a fair amount of time this summer kissing Marcus too, but at least I was professional enough to not do it while I was on the clock.

  Mallory smoothed her hair behind her ears and rushed off around the building. Marcus and I just stared at each other, waiting for the other to back down. It was clear that any affection I had for him was gone. And if I had to guess, I would say by the lock of his jaw and squint in his eyes, the feeling was mutual.

  He broke the chilly silence first. “Look, Ash—”

  I put up a hand to silence him. “No, Marcus. Whatever you’re going to say is not necessary. If you want to be with Mallory, you don’t owe me any apologies or excuses or lines. I don’t need them. I just wish you had waited until your shift was over. That little girl could’ve died.”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t,” he countered, so incredibly sure of himself and his safe place in the world. I wanted to punch him. It was the same feeling I got when my dad did things like ordering for the whole table at a restaurant, signing me up for classes or tutoring without asking my interests, or making plans without consulting my schedule. They were small things individually, perhaps, but each one was like a tiny stone that built the pedestal he put himself on. I was nauseous just thinking about it and comparing the two of them.

  “But she could’ve. And that would’ve been your fault.”

  “Au contraire. I am not on the clock right now.” Marcus was almost smiling.

  “But Mallory is. And you distracted her. Which makes you just as culpable as she is.”

  “Fine,” he said taking a step closer. “I didn’t hear you complaining about my distracting you last time we were alone.”

  “Emphasis on the words last and time.”

  “That’s okay. I typically don’t spend time with felons anyway. But you’re cute, so I made an exception.” Marcus’ voice dripped with cruelty as he threw the secret I’d trusted him with in my face. My jaw dropped. Maybe I’d known this was who he really was all along. Surface-level conversations only, even the ones that appeared deeper. Rude, judgy comments. Acting like the world was his for the taking. Just like my dad. I knew better than to stick around this time.

  I turned on my heel, physically unable to look at his smug face another second. I raced to the pool deck where a group of paramedics were hovering over Avery. I joined Hannah who was standing by, cool and composed, while Mallory bawled and wrung her hands.

  “I’m going to go find out if Avery’s parents are here. I’m not sure if they came with the group or not,” I said to Hannah. There was an incident report to fill out
as well and, knowing Deb, I was better off getting it started myself.

  “Good call. I’ll find you, okay?” Hannah’s eyes were dark with worry. “We should probably make another phone call tonight too, yeah?”

  I didn’t have to ask to whom she meant. We needed to call Mr. Allen. It was past time to tell him what had been going on. “Definitely.”

  I sprinted back to the lodge and Deb’s office. The lights were on, but our manager was nowhere to be seen.

  “Shocking,” I muttered to myself. I opened the filing cabinet next to the desk and flipped through the folders until I found one labeled “Incident Reports.” I pulled out one form and laid it on the desk. As I was shutting the drawer, I saw another folder labeled “Résumés.” I pulled it out and opened it, not feeling even a little bit guilty. I knew Hannah had been furious when Mallory had been given the head lifeguard position, and here was my chance to see if she really had more experience. I flipped to the G section and found Mallory Gress—printed in some ridiculous font, triple-spaced, with huge margins. Does she turn in essays like that too? My dad, who always insisted on proofreading my work, would’ve handed it back to me and said, Make it longer.

  Mallory had graduated from high school two years ago with a middle of the road grade point average and was currently attending a nearby university. She’d spent her summers in high school working at a popular clothing retailer that was in every mall I’d ever been to and served as secretary of the German Club. She’d listed typing and social media as relevant skills. That was it. No mention of swim team. No lifeguard training. Not even first aid. I blinked a few times, just in case I’d missed something, but no. Mallory had absolutely zero qualifications for the position she held. Had she wanted it just so she could look cute in a swimsuit all summer?

  I shook my head and put the file back. I pulled my quote journal out and quickly updated the list:

  1.Disappears for hours at a time without notifying staff of her location

  2.Improper food allergy communication with kitchen staff

  3.Not enough lifejackets for boats or helmets for bikes

  4.Slow to repair boats

  5.Improper staff-to-kid ratios

  6.Allows minor to do things only permissible for a legal adult

  7.Competition kitchen safety concerns

  8.Parking lot signage concerns

  9.Hired head lifeguard with no qualifications or certifications

  10.Unavailable during crises

  Hannah barreled through the door a moment later. “Where’s Deb?” she asked.

  “Who knows? Where is Deb ever?”

  “Ugh.”

  I sighed loudly. “How’s Avery?”

  “She’ll be okay. The other girl, Jasmine, said she and Avery were playing tag and Avery slipped and fell into the pool. Neither of them could swim, which I find odd for girls their age, but at any rate, it was the perfect storm. Non-swimmers plus no lifeguards. Where the heck was Mallory anyway?”

  “Kissing Marcus behind the building. Apparently, they were so focused on each other, they didn’t hear Jasmine yelling. Which is just ludicrous. We heard her a mile away.”

  “Are you serious? Whoa. No wonder Mallory wouldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t even talk she was so upset.”

  “Wouldn’t you be upset if you’d almost let a kid drown and you didn’t actually have any lifeguard experience?” I raised one eyebrow at Hannah.

  “Shut the front door. For real?”

  “For real. I just found her résumé. Mommy hired her daughter who probably hadn’t been in a pool since swimming lessons fifteen years ago.”

  Hannah slowly shook her head. “Deb is in so much trouble.” She leaned over to get a better look at my open notebook on the desk. “Wow. This just gets better and better.”

  “Or worse and worse,” I said wryly.

  Hannah looked over her shoulder to the door and then back to me. “Do you think there’s a file on Deb too?”

  My eyes flew open. I locked gazes with Hannah and reached for the drawer where I’d found the résumés. With a shaky hand, I pulled it open and sifted through the files. No “Deborah Gress,” but there was one titled “Manager Candidates.” I pulled it out and held it up.

  “Here it is,” I whispered, holding it up.

  Hannah hovered over my shoulder as I opened the folder and flicked through the contents until I saw Deb’s name.

  Hannah ran a finger down the three most recent positions listed. They were all brand name hotels with references provided. She flipped the page over to find a very complimentary letter from Deb’s previous supervisor.

  “It all looks fine,” I said.

  “Maybe.” Hannah grabbed the papers, picked up the phone, and dialed. She waited for a moment and then hung up. “Out of service.”

  Why would a major hotel’s number be down? A horrible thought crept over me. “What if she faked this letter?” If she had, what would have made Deb do such a thing? Was she desperate for a job? Did she have something to prove? Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding.

  Hannah shrugged. “I think anything is possible at this point. Either way, we have to stick with the facts. Snooping doesn’t help our case.”

  “True. Do you know how to get a hold of Mr. Allen?”

  “I’m sure it’s in that giant rolodex thing,” Hannah said, plucking it off the desk. She flipped through the awkward little cards until she found Fred Allen. She picked up the phone again and held it out to me. “Do you want to call or should I?”

  “You go ahead. He knows you. But tell him we need him to come here. This is probably a conversation better had in person.”

  If I’d learned anything from my father over the years, and that was a short list to say the least, when it came to business, he told me, “You should look someone in the eye when you’re giving them bad news. It makes them trust you because it appears like you care, even when you are destroying them.” The master of all things fake. Except in this case, I did care. Hannah and I both did. I wasn’t sure if revealing this news to Mr. Allen would destroy Deb, but it was the truth. And that was one thing my father never taught me.

  Chapter 24

  Hannah dialed the number and waited while it rang.

  “May I speak to Mr. Allen, please?” Pause. “Yes, this is Hannah Zanotti over at Sweet—I’m fine, thanks for asking. Well, that’s actually why I was calling. I’m so sorry to drop this on you, but we’re having some trouble with Ms. Gress and I was hoping you’d be able to stop by and chat about it. My cousin and I have some information to share with you.” Hannah nodded a few times at whatever Mr. Allen was saying. “Great, see you soon. Thank you so much.” She dropped the receiver into the cradle.

  “Well?”

  “Well, he’s on his way. Said he’d be here in about thirty minutes.” She checked her watch. “We haven’t had lunch yet. We should get something now, before he comes.”

  I wasn’t really hungry after what just happened, or what might be yet to come when Mr. Allen got here, but Hannah was right. We hadn’t eaten anything since early this morning. We walked to the cafeteria, grabbed two of the few remaining sandwiches, and took a seat at a corner table. I took a reluctant bite of my turkey and cheddar. I wasn’t looking forward to throwing Deb under the bus. While she hadn’t been the ideal boss by anyone’s standards, she’d given me autonomy, and that counted for something, didn’t it? She hadn’t shot me down when I wanted to add a whole new service to the retreat center. And yet, somehow those small kindnesses for me, which probably weren’t intentional, didn’t take away the mountain of carelessness she’d shown for everyone else, her own daughter included. I could barely swallow the one bite I’d taken.

  “You look like you’re going to throw up,” Hannah observed.

  “I’ll eat after we talk, I guess. I don’t like confrontation.” Understatement of my lifetime.

  “Well, good. Because I have no problem with it.” Why was I not surprised? “Besides, we’re not confront
ing Mr. Allen. We’re just delivering a set of facts. He’s the boss, he’ll be the one doing the confronting.”

  “What do you think he’ll do?” My voice had shrunk, like it always did when I was scared.

  Hannah swallowed a huge bite of her ham sandwich. “I’d like to think he’ll fire her. I would.” She took another bite, washing it down with a sip of her water. “The thing about Mr. Allen is, he thinks we should provide excellent service to the clients. They pay to come here and, except for when they’re with Amos doing some personality test, they shouldn’t have to think about anything. We should have it at the ready, he likes to say. The way I see it, Deb’s made that harder for a lot of people. Also,” she said, pointing a finger in the air, “some of the stuff she’s done is illegal.”

  I snorted. “True.”

  “So, I guess we’ll see what he does. This place is his baby. I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t make some kind of move to protect it.”

  I nibbled the edges of my sandwich, admiring how factual and unemotional Hannah was, while my heart was beating like a rabbit racing from the jaws of a fox. I hoped Mr. Allen wouldn’t ask me to talk much. Maybe I could just slide him the list and let Hannah do the rest.

  I ended up dumping my sandwich in the trash as Hannah polished off the last crumb of hers. We walked to Deb’s office, me like I was on my way to the guillotine, Hannah like she was the superstar attorney about to deliver the evidence that would make the courtroom gasp. Thankfully, the lights were off and Deb was still absent. Hannah took a seat behind Deb’s desk, spinning back and forth in the big chair. I slumped in my chair in the corner of the room, trying to make myself so small no one would notice me.

  A few minutes later, there was a loud knock at the door. Mr. Allen, looking tanned and summery in a T-shirt and sandals, stood in the doorway, filling most of it with his tall frame.

  “Hi, kids. Is this a good place to talk?”

  Please, Hannah, take the lead, was my first thought. And then, immediately after, What if Deb shows up?