Return to Us

by Corinne Michaels

  “Dad failed, I won’t.”

  “Anyway,” she draws the word out, “I heard you ran into Jessica.”

  This town is insane. I’m sure Winnie told her, since she’s Jessica’s sister.

  “I actually stopped by and saw her on my way home.”

  “Oh. Oh! Wow. Okay. And? How did it go?”

  I love that I caught her off guard. One thing she loves more than anything is being in the know, and her not being the first to know I’d run into Jessica probably grated on her.

  “Fine.” I pick Amelia up, kiss her cheek, and head into the kitchen.

  My sister groans, and I fight back the urge to laugh.

  “Daddy, I am so hungry.”

  “I’m sure you are. Aunt Stella’s idea of a meal is M&M’s and Twizzlers.”

  “The peanut ones!” she says as she follows me. “They have protein.”

  “How is it that you’re as skinny as you are when you eat like a thirteen-year-old boy? Seriously, have you consumed a vegetable in the last ten years?”

  Stella makes a face. “No thanks. And the reason I’m so slim is because I work out and have great genes.”

  Amelia takes my face in her hands. “I don’t like vegetables neither.”

  “Auntie Stella loves them, she was kidding. She is going to eat some with you now.”

  “Auntie Stella has to go to work since your daddy stuck me on the night shift while our manager called out.”

  “How convenient that you have to leave so soon,” I say with a grin.

  “Isn’t it? I love how that works out. But, anyway, was everything good at the Park Inn?”

  The Park Inn is our flagship bed and breakfast as well as one of the top destinations. The way my father designed the building was smart. Instead of making the land curve to the structure, it seems as though the inn was formed from the mountain. It sits perfectly, giving the guests unobstructed views of the trees, sky, and nature.

  “It was fine. The couple in room five was moved to eight because they didn’t want the view of the right side of the mountain. Other than that, it was a quiet day.”

  Stella nods and then reaches for her purse. “Have you talked to Mom?”

  “No, you do that so I don’t have to.”

  “Yeah right. I’m sure you’ll have no choice when she picks up Melia this week. She said that Dad is visiting Oliver this week and then will check on Joshua in New Orleans after that.”

  “And I care because?”

  “Because that means we have two weeks where she’s going to be up our asses and we’ll have to entertain her. I dealt with it the last time he traveled, so you’re it this time.”

  My mother is a brilliant, strong, and fierce women—as long as my father is by her side. When he’s gone, she wilts.

  She also pretends that his trips aren’t to visit his mistresses that he has all around the properties he owns. It’s too bad his kids don’t have the same ability. Even if we don’t discuss it around her, my father is well aware that we know and how we feel about it.

  “When does Josh come back home for a visit?”

  Stella shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

  “Hell is a bad word,” Amelia cuts in.

  “Yes, it is. We’re going to have to wash Aunt Stella’s mouth out with soap.”

  Amelia nods. “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m sorry, Melia, I won’t say it again.”

  “Okay.” Amelia forgives her without pause.

  “Now, I have to go to work, you need to feed your child something that has nutritional value, and I’ll see you tomorrow . . . at Mom’s.”

  I walk her out, not commenting on that last part because if I have to see my mother this weekend, I’m not going tomorrow—no matter what threats my sister hangs over my head.

  “Thanks again, Stell.”

  “Anything for my favorite brother.” She kisses my cheek and then playfully slaps it. “Well, Alex really was, but you were a close second. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you evading my questions about how it went with Jessica.”

  “I’m sure Winnie will tell you everything.”

  Stella’s face brightens. “She most definitely will, but I was hoping you’d share.”

  “There’s not much to say. It was awkward at the diner, so I went there to let her know there were no hard feelings.”

  Stella laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re serious?”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, but Jessica was that girl for you. The one who haunts your dreams, and even when you were with Yvonne, we all knew it was Jessica who had your heart.”

  Arguing with her about this will get me nowhere. “And on that note, you have to go.”

  “You have lost a rung on my favorite brother ladder.”

  I clutch my chest. “I’m crushed. As much as I’d like to continue our conversation, I have Daddy duty to ensure my kid doesn’t survive on your version of food groups.”

  “All right. Love you, Gray.”

  “Love you too.”

  Once she’s off, I head inside to find Amelia sitting on the floor with her dolls and an open container of cookies.

  “Hey,” I say and she looks up, “who gave you those?”

  She ducks her head. “I found them.”

  “Are you allowed to have cookies before dinner?”

  “No, but I was hungry, Daddy.”

  Her big blue eyes widen, proving that Stella was right—I’m totally screwed. I scoop her up, and we begin our normal routine. I get Amelia something healthy to eat, then it’s bath time, and now it’s time for bed. She’s all tucked in her bed, the spinning cloud light that Stella bought her is on, and it’s story time. We read the same book she loves every night, and I can recite it without even looking.

  “Can you read with the silly voices, Daddy?”

  “Do you promise to stay in bed if I do?”

  “I promise!”

  She lies, but I have a hard time denying her anything. “Okay.”

  I drop my voice deep as I get into the role of the elephant. “Do you have big dreams, little mouse?” I ask.

  “I do, I do,” I say, going much higher than is actually comfortable.

  “And tell me what do you dream of?”

  Amelia’s eyes light up as she answers in her best mouse voice. “To be a singer.”

  I grin. “And what do you want to sing?”

  “Opera, like my mom does in Paris.”

  My heart plummets. That’s not the words to the book. Every now and then Amelia will ask about Yvonne, and I made a promise to tell her the truth. While it’s hard for me, I can’t imagine it’s easy for her either. Still, if she always knows the truth, then there will never be a time I have to tell her that I wasn’t honest.

  “Melia, that’s not the line.”

  She snuggles deeper under her covers. “I know.”

  I brush her cheek. “I love you more than the stars in the sky.”

  “I love you more than the clouds.”

  “I love you more than the books in the library.”

  She smiles. “I love you more than anyone in the world.”

  “You’re the person I love the most, Amelia. Never doubt that.”

  Her long lashes rise and fall, and she launches herself into my arms. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you more. I love you most.”

  I hug her, holding her tight because, while I can’t fix the fact that her mother chose to leave her, I can love her harder and hope it’s enough.

  Today is one of those days I should’ve just stayed in bed. It’s been a rough few days, but today, everything went to shit. I got to work to find out we had a pipe burst that flooded a guest room, my plumber can’t get here until tomorrow, which means the repair people can’t get the room fixed.

  And then my front desk manager quit because her husband got a job in Charlotte and they’re moving next week, which is why she called out.

  Willow Creek Valley is great to visi
t, but not many people move here, which means finding a suitable replacement is going to be absolute torture.

  Stella waltzes in late with bags in her hands. “Sorry, it was a crazy day. I got your voice mail. Seems we have a mess?”

  “Yes. It is a mess. I could’ve used some help.”

  “I’m allowed a day off, Gray.”

  “When is the last time I had one?”

  She scoffs. “That’s your choice, brother. You’re the one who works here constantly, and when you’re not here, you’re at the firehouse—of your own free will.”

  “Some of us have to be responsible.”

  I’m being a dick, I know it, and yet, I need to get this out.

  Stella sets the bags down, her eyes narrow, and her lips purse. “Well, I can see you’re going to be the asshole today. Fine. Go ahead. Tell me how spoiled, ridiculous, and childish I am. Because I work just as hard as you do, but neither you or them ever acknowledge it. Who handled almost the entire renovation? Me. Who did it without any issues? Me. Who has grown our occupancy to full month in and month out? Oh, that’s right . . . me!”

  “No one calls you childish,” I throw back.

  She huffs. “Out of all that, you want to lead on that point?”

  I run my hands through my hair and sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.”

  “I am.”

  Stella sits in the chair across from me. “All right. Let’s take it all one step at a time, and we’ll divide and conquer. I know you hate the hiring process, so I’ll handle it. Can you manage getting that room fixed as soon as possible?”

  “That’s a solid plan. What if we use the cottage as our spill over? I can get Mateo in there to work on fixing anything so we can move guests there.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll go look at it now too. Last I remember, it wasn’t terrible and shouldn’t need much work. It’ll be great as a complimentary upgrade to the guests who booked for the other room.”

  The cottage has been on our shortlist forever. It’s a bit away and most guests want privacy, but it also has that feeling of being in a home.

  “Yeah, and we have a vacant room for the next two days, so right now we’re okay. I’ll get Mateo going right away. What are you going to do about hiring someone?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t worry, Gray. We endure.”

  I laugh as I get to my feet. “That should’ve been our family motto.”

  “Yeah, and don’t ever fall in love, you’ll end up shattered. And don’t fuck the help should be another one.”

  “I’ve never fucked the help,” I counter.

  “Me either.”

  “No, Dad is far too busy doing that.” I wink as I head out to find Mateo. On my way, I talk to a few guests, who tell me how much they love staying here, and then answer a few staff questions.

  Then I see her.

  Jessica is standing with her sister out by the overlook. Her dark brown hair moves in the wind, and her smile is wide as she laughs. I forgot how much I used to love making her laugh. She didn’t do it with reserve. It was as if nothing could stop her from being happy, and I lived for it. I want to experience it again.

  Our eyes meet, she lifts her hand in a wave, and I do the same. Winnie touches her arm and she turns away and I feel this ache in my chest.

  Jesus. I’m not sixteen anymore. Stop it.

  I came out here to handle the inn, not think about how to make her laugh so I can hear it again. Jessica wasn’t made to stay in this town. She had bigger dreams that couldn’t be contained.

  She’ll heal, and when she does, she’ll leave.

  Besides, I don’t care about her like that anyway.

  I find Mateo, who is all clear on his instructions. The cottage isn’t great, but it’s fixable. With Stella at the helm of decorating, she’ll find a way to make the cracks part of the charm.

  I head back to the office and look over to where Jessica was, but she’s gone, and I force myself to be relieved by that. We don’t need to see each other again. We got all that out of the way a few days ago.

  “Grayson?” I hear her call out as I’m rounding the corner.

  “Hey, Jess.”

  She smiles. “You’re the only person who still calls me that.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know where along the way I stopped being Jess and became Jessica. Maybe it was when I got to Massachusetts or maybe when I . . .”

  “When you?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

  I’m not sure if this is another memory issue or she just doesn’t want to say. Either way, I decide not to push.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I was here because I was abducted by Stella and Winnie to go shopping today. Then Stella said she had to get here right away.”

  I bob my head. “Ahh, I see.”

  “But, I . . . well, I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Her lower lip goes between her teeth and then slowly is released. “For hiring me. I know I’m still not at one hundred percent, but I think this is going to really help push me. I promise, I’ll work hard before I start. My doctor said I needed to return to living and . . .”

  Awareness hits like a freight train.

  My sister.

  She hired Jessica. Without talking to me.

  The air becomes hard to draw into my lungs, but I manage to keep a smile on my face. If I tell her that Stella can’t hire her because I’m going to kill my sister, then I look like there’s a problem with Jessica working here, which there’s not.

  It’s fine because I don’t feel anything or care.

  It’s fine because, like I told my sister, Jessica and I are nothing and have left the past in the past.

  It’s fine because—well, I’m running out of reasons.

  Mostly, though, the way she looks right now makes me want to give her the entire inn. She’s nervous, excited, and there’s a look of triumph that I don’t want to diminish.

  But fuck me, this is going to be torture.

  Jessica stares at me, and I know I need to say something. “Yeah, of course. I’m glad this is going to work out for all of us.”

  The apprehension on her face disappears and she steps closer, her hand coming to my arm and squeezing slightly. “Thanks, Gray.”

  “I guess I’ll see you on Monday?”

  “First thing.”

  She walks away, leaving me standing here, staring at the horizon and wondering how I’m going to make my sister pay for this. And if this still means I’ve never fucked the help.

  Chapter 5

  Jessica

  The dream book is sitting on my lap, my hands resting over it as my leg bounces. Dr. Warvel is sitting in her chair, legs crossed as she waits.

  I’m not sure if I have the strength to do this. I run my sweaty palms on my legs. “It’s like opening Pandora’s box,” I finally say.

  “The dreams aren’t locked up, Jessica. You’re living them every day.”

  “Maybe that’s why I don’t want to read it.”

  I thought that I would hand the book over and she would read it. Not that I was going to have to pour over every word. After I wrote in the book each morning, I didn’t go back. I didn’t want to see it in black and white. It’s a damn movie in my brain.

  She sits forward. “Part of healing is to face the trauma you’ve endured.”

  “How am I not? I’m here and trying.”

  “Yes, you are. The point of reading it is to acknowledge it, but it’s also to see if the dream is truly the same as the event or if you’re experiencing things that you don’t even realize are different. The point of journaling it is to give you a record of the dream to be able to compare it to the actual events.”

  My leg bounces faster. “I’m not ready.”

  “Okay then.” She sits back in her chair and writes a note. “Tell
me if anything new has happened this week.”

  I can do that. “I got a job.”

  Her eyes widen and a smile crosses her face. “Well, that’s big news. Where, and doing what?”

  “I’m going to run the front desk at the Park Inn.”

  “The Park Inn? The one that the Parkerson family owns?”

  “The one and only.”

  I never imagined working for the Park Inn. The truth is, I sort of vowed I never would, but I was there and Stella offered it. It’s been a month since the crash, and I need something. This is my first real taste of being my former self.

  Dr. Warvel bobs her head slowly. “That’s great, Jessica. You have spent the last month unsure of what the future held, and this will bring you one step closer to your goal of returning to normal.”

  I’m slightly impressed she didn’t bring up Grayson or ask how I feel about working with him. I sure as hell am not going to be the one to mention it.

  He didn’t seem uneasy about being around me, we had that nice talk on my porch, and well, I don’t plan to stick around here once I’m healed anyway.

  “That’s my hope.”

  “All of this is exciting. Do you have any concerns that you want to discuss?”

  There’s really just one. “I’m worried that my head and might . . . go . . . this!” I yell, frustrated because I couldn’t speak again.

  “And that’s valid, but you can’t control how your brain is healing. All you can do is be patient and work through the situations as they arise. Like you’re doing right now.”

  I can’t control my own mouth. “Why won’t this stop?”

  “Because, while you feel a month is a long time, it’s not. Thirty days is a short blip, and you are not only working through new physical limitations but also an emotional trauma.” Her eyes drop to the notebook on my lap.

  I rub my fingers against the paper, feeling the anxiety coursing through me. A part of me wants to read it, to remember it in a different way. But this was all feeling. This isn’t me just telling my story about the crash in a detached way—this is me at my rawest and most vulnerable.

  “I’m scared.”

  “You’re not alone. You’re not in that plane. You’re on the ground, safe, and alive,” she tells me. “One step at a time.”