Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set

by Lilian Monroe

  “That’s why we want to share it with the world,” she answers. She smiles at me again and I can’t help but feel like she’s smiling a bit too hard. It’s almost forced, or it’s like the smile doesn’t spread all the way to her eyes. She nods at me before shuffling some papers in front of her. The check-in process is quick, and I’m hit with a barrage of information on the area. She tells me what to do, where to go, what to avoid. I nod and try to absorb it all, taking the brochures and maps from her with a smile. She hands me a key and points towards the staircase.

  “Just up the stairs to the left. Room number 206.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McCoy,” I say.

  “Please,” she says with another forced smile. “Call me Karen. Ask me if you have any questions whatsoever.”

  I smile and nod before turning towards the stairs. They creak as I walk up, and I glance down the bright hallway towards the numbers on the doors. Number 206 is the third door down.

  It’s a clean room, with a cozy quilt and fresh flowers in the vase. I drop my suitcase and let all the air out of my lungs as I look around the room. This is my new home for the next few days. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. The way Barry was talking it sounded like it would be a few weeks.

  My phone buzzes and I glance down to see a picture message from my mother. I open it up to see the family smiling at a beach resort. My father looks tired and ill and my heart squeezes as I look at the photo. I know that my mother is trying to make me feel guilty for choosing work over this vacation, but I refuse to give in. I need to do this for myself, and I need to pursue my career the way that I want to do it.

  I send her a quick message back and tuck my phone away. It’s time to get some dinner at the restaurant downstairs, and then one final practice run through my presentation. Tomorrow morning I’m visiting the construction site and meeting with Cecilia and the site team. I glance around the room one more time and take a deep breath. Whether I like it or not, this is my new home.

  When I walk downstairs, I glance out the big bay windows at the front of the hotel. The mountain is lit up with the sunset and the sky is ablaze with colors. The tightness in my chest loosens slightly and a smile spreads across my lips.

  It might not be a beach vacation in Miami, but it doesn’t mean this place isn’t gorgeous. Maybe my new home isn’t so bad after all.

  6

  Aiden

  My father’s truck rumbles to life in the driveway. I smile as I run my hands over the steering wheel. I still remember being a young kid bouncing on the passenger’s seat as my father drove me through the winding mountain roads. Now it’s me in the driver’s seat, but it still feels like he’s here with me.

  I glance at my watch and nod to myself. If I leave now I should make it down to Lang Creek just as the town hall meeting starts. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of driving into town, but I put the truck in gear and start driving before I can change my mind.

  The long winding roads are comforting in their familiarity. I drive slowly, taking my time and enjoying the feel of the truck underneath me. I’ve always loved this vehicle, and it feels great to have it running again. I shift gears as I get to the main road into town and turn towards Lang Creek.

  The truck jerks and shudders underneath me. I frown, trying to accelerate. The truck shudders again and starts to slow. I shift gears again and try to get the vehicle moving, but it shakes one more time and completely shuts off. I coast for a few feet before slowing to a stop as I pull over onto the shoulder.

  Fuck.

  I take a deep breath and pop the hood. I can see some smoke starting to curl up from the motor and I already know I won’t be able to fix this without any tools. I lift the hood up anyway and cough as a cloud of black smoke billows out towards my face.

  I glance back up the road towards my cabin. It’s twelve miles away. Lang Creek is three miles down the road. As much as I hate the thought of walking to town and asking for help, it’s the only chance I have of getting this truck off the road tonight. And of course, just my luck, everyone will be at that town hall meeting to hear about it.

  The hood slams shut and I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with cool mountain air before heading off towards Lang Creek. Every step makes my heart beat a little bit harder. I’m not sure I’ll be able to speak up in front of everyone, in front of Karen McCoy, in front of all the people who know what happened between our families. Even though I know why I need to speak up, I still wish someone else would do it.

  By the time I walk onto Main Street, the sweat is beading on my forehead and I’ve opened my jacket up to let the air cool my body. I can feel a droplet of sweat running down my spine and I wipe my forehead with my sleeve. I check my watch and curse under my breath. Not only am I going to be late, I’m going to burst in dripping with sweat and asking for a lift back up to my cabin.

  It’s not exactly the image of a strong opposition. I can almost hear the townspeople sniggering under their breath as I walk in asking for their help. I haven’t asked for help in years.

  When I was a kid, my father was respected in the town. People looked to him for advice and guidance for everything from car maintenance to mountain safety. He built most of the houses in town himself, and was almost the unofficial mayor of the town. When he died, it’s like the whole town became fragmented. No one knew who to turn to for help, and the whole rhythm of life was disrupted.

  Maybe that was just my fourteen-year-old perspective of it. My father the superhero was taken before his time. My boots stomp on the ground as I make my way towards Lang Creek. If it were up to me, I’d be heading in the opposite direction, moving away from all the memories that assault me whenever I go into town. If it were up to me, my father would still be alive and my brothers and I would speak to each other more.

  If it were up to me, maybe I wouldn’t be alone on that mountain all the time.

  I shake my head to dispel the thought. I like being alone. I like working by myself, and hearing the noises of the forest as I fall asleep I like living on the mountain and seeing its beauty everywhere I turn. I like using my hands and feeling the cool air burn my lungs when I’m working hard outside. I like heading into my tiny cabin and sleeping in my single bed as if I were a hibernating bear.

  I know that I like all these things, but as my steps take my closer and closer to the Lang Creek town hall meeting, I can’t help but wonder how convincing I’ll be. I know what I could say to oppose the construction of this hotel. I’d talk about my father’s legacy, about protecting the mountains and worshipping their power over us. I’d talk about the thousands of birds and insects and animals that call these forests home. I’d talk about the plants that feed us and protect us from the harshness of the winters.

  I’d talk about all those things, but right now, all I can think about is speaking up and seeing all the eyes telling me that I’ve failed my father. Whenever I see the McCoys, all I can think of is how they betrayed my father. Every day when I go to work at their maintenance yard, it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.

  I’m not the man that my father was, or at least they don’t think I am.

  My heart squeezes just as I pass the huge wooden sign that says ‘Welcome to Lang Creek’. My father put up that sign. I used to feel pride every time we’d drive into town. Now all I feel is pain.

  I can already see the lights in Town Hall. The meeting must be underway already. I take a deep breath and force myself to speed up.

  It doesn’t matter what Karen McCoy says, or what her daughter Mara did to my family. It doesn’t matter that my father’s gone, or that my brothers and I hardly speak anymore. All that matters is that this hotel will destroy everything my family believed in for generations. It’ll destroy the sanctity of the mountains and make it impossible for life to go on as it has.

  Those words are on repeat, playing over and over in my head until my jaw is set and my chin dips downwards. I plant my palm against the door and push it open, letting the warmth o
f the indoors wash over me. Voices filter through to me from the main hall, and I square my shoulders before heading in that direction.

  Before I turn the last corner, I hear a voice I’ve never heard before. It’s sweet and melodic, and it makes my heart jump in my chest. My eyebrows knit together as I try to recognize it. With every step that takes me closer to the voice, my heart starts thumping a little bit harder. I can’t even make out the words. Something about conservation, or the environment.

  I turn the final corner and see the main hall – it takes all my self-control to stop my jaw from dropping. When I heard the project’s environmental engineer would come to speak at the meeting, I was expecting to see an old man with a big pot belly, or maybe a young man with a big ego.

  I wasn’t expecting a woman.

  I wasn’t expecting a woman like her.

  Her blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun, with wisps of it framing her face. She’s got high cheekbones and full pink lips. From the back of the room, I can’t tell what color her eyes are. She’s standing with her shoulders back and her head held high as she flicks through a couple slides of her presentation.

  The door slams behind me and I jump as the whole room turns towards the noise. The woman’s eyes lift up towards me and for a brief instant we look at each other. Time stops, and the room is empty except for her and I.

  I forget why I’m here, or what I’m supposed to say. I forget everything except the fact that she’s the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen.

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