by Shayne Ford
“Let me guess...Your assistant found it,” Layla says as she registers my grin.
Her voice is lined with jealousy and sarcasm, a combination I can’t stand.
I hurl her a glassy stare. Swiftly, her blood draws out of her face, her expression shifting.
“I’m sorry... What’s her name?” she asks, meekly.
“Thalia,” I say, cold.
We take a right, and roll onto a side road, the silence staying with us for the next few minutes. It’s dark and windy when we pull in front of a picturesque lodge tucked between tall pine trees and chalets.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, gaping at the scenery.
Her voice is smooth and gentle, conciliatory in a way.
“Yeah, it looks good,” I offer, cold.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her gaze following me as I climb out of the car. I stride to the Lodge, check us in, and get the keys before I walk back to the car.
The air is crisp, the snow coming down steadily. The scent of pine trees reminds me once again that I’m close to my home.
I’ve already forgotten about the little incident, when I spot her in the corner, curled up into a ball of grief. I steer the car out of the main parking, and moments later, we pull in front of a log chalet.
I hold the cabin door open for her and let her walk in first, my eyes scanning the place over her shoulder. The place is cozy and warm, smoke drifting from the burning logs. More childhood memories come to me.
A king bed stocked with fluffy pillows and soft blankets sprawls near the wall. Not far sits a fireplace and a big hot tub. That’s really all we need. I wish we could stay more than only one night.
I place the keys on the table.
“I’ll be in the dining room... I need to make some calls,” I say, and without further explanations, I walk out and shut the door behind me.
My boots sink into the snow as I walk the footpath back to the lodge. I stomp them against the ground, shaking the snow off before I climb the stairs and enter the lobby.
It’s warm and nice inside.
A kid plays nearby, his back rolling onto a thick rug, a fluffy black dog sitting by his side. The young woman who checked us in shows me to the dining room.
“Rose, this is River,” she says, introducing me to an older woman.
Rose glances at me over the brim of her glasses.
“River and Layla, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to order now, or you want to wait for her?
“I’ll order the food later. Have a hot chocolate ready for her when she comes in.”
“Sure. Anything to drink for you?”
I still ponder when a man’s voice rings out behind me. I glance over my shoulder. A frail, silver-haired man seats alone at a table.
“Where are you heading?” he asks.
“Idaho.”
“Where from?”
“LA.”
“Going home?”
“Yeah.”
He takes a sip of his drink, his glass almost empty.
“That’s good,” he says and nods approvingly.
“Married?” he throws at me, out of nowhere.
“Not yet.”
I freeze. What the fuck? The words just slipped out, the nervousness in my voice making Rose and the old man to glance in my direction.
Rose gives me an affectionate smile, the man’s face lighting up with a knowing grin.
“The heart always knows, doesn’t it?” she says, noticing my brief moment of panic.
I smile.
“I guess so. I’ll have what he has and another round for him if it’s okay with him.”
“John?”
He smiles, and Rose shrugs.
“He never minds,” she says.
I leave cash on the counter, grab the drinks and stroll to the man. He motions to me to sit. I set the glasses on the table and shake his hand before I take a seat.
As he starts to speak, the memory of my grandfather flashes in front of my eyes. My mom’s father. A wise man. Also a man of a few words. Strong and loyal.
He helped my mom to raise me and stood against my father, who knew nothing better than to abandon us when I was little.
He’s the main reason I want Love, my half sister, out of her abusive marriage. I was lucky enough not to live with my father, but she wasn’t, and it’s hard to have a normal life when you grow up with a man like him.
As John and I chat over drinks my phone lights up with a message.
Love: We need to talk.
I guzzle down my drink, excuse myself, and rush outside.
“So, any good news?” I ask, impatient.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” she says.
“Tell me it’s something good.”
“It’s good and bad at the same time.” She pauses.“I might be pregnant,” she says, sadness threading through her voice.
“But that’s good. Right?” I ask, a bad feeling rolling over me. “Tell me you’re keeping the baby, Love...”
“Yes,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced at all. “It’s nothing sure...”
“What’s not sure?”
“I don’t know for sure if I am pregnant.”
“Okay?”
“But if I am, I don’t think I can leave Donnie right now.”
“Love?”
“I know... I’m sorry. I can’t do that to him.”
Anger sweeps through me.
I know where she’s coming from, and I understand her fears and indecision, and yet, it’s so hard to suppress my reaction. To me, things are really simple, but for some reason, I can’t make her see them the same way I do.
“You’re not doing anything to him, Love,” I say as calm as I can. “You have to think about your baby.”
The sound of a soft crying rolls in my ears, and it feels as if I hit a wall. Fuck. I’m not getting anywhere.
“It’s not that easy. River. I can’t just be on my own with a small child.”
“You’re not going to be on your own. I’ll help you.”
“It’s not fair,” she bursts out, and it dawns on me she’s trying to talk herself out of leaving him.
“There’s not much fairness in this life. What happened to you because of my father was not fair. Your life with your husband is not fair either, but you have to draw a line somewhere. You have to do it for your kid, if nothing else,” I say, exasperated.
“But it’s his child too.”
“He doesn’t care about you, Love. What makes you think he’d give a damn about your kid? Our father couldn’t care less about us.”
She pauses again.
“I’ll think about it...” she says, and my heart drops. “First I need to know for sure. We’ll see after that.”
“Love, listen to me. I grew up with a single mom, and it wasn’t the end of the world. Please don’t do something stupid. All I want is to help you, and you know I can do that.”
“I know, but this is my life and my responsibility, not yours...” she says, and she starts sobbing again.
I bite my lip, stopping myself from saying something that could make things worse.
“Okay. Call me when you decide what you want to do,” I say, and we end the call.
The phone’s screen lights up again.
As I pick up Ron’s call, I spot Layla trailing my footprints, heading to the lodge.
She doesn’t notice me.
“Hey. Are you home?” Ron asks.
“No,” I say, cryptic.
“Listen...” He takes his time, and something inside me twists. “What exactly happened between you and Jay?” he asks.
“Nothing more than the usual,” I say dryly. “Why?” I shoot back at him, too fast not to clue him in that something has happened.
“Well, as it turns out he wants to come back, but he doesn’t want to do it unless he has a green light from you.”
“Why would he need my approval?” I ask, hyp
ocritical. “I didn’t hire him.”
He pauses again, and my gut screams at me.
“What happened that Friday?”
“What Friday?” I ask, tense.
“River, I’m not an idiot. The night you and Steve rushed back to the hotel. Something happened that night. Steve texted me the next day saying that Jay quit the band and was on his way home. This band was his life. Why would he do something like that?”
“I don’t know. Ask him.”
“I did, and he can’t come up with a good reason. He doesn’t sound like someone who wanted to quit, and the thing is, I want him back. I don’t want to hire someone else for the tour. Why the fuck would I bring someone new when he was so damn good?”
“Then bring him back,” I say, pissed.
“I can’t fucking bring him back if you’re going to kill each other,” he shouts, brimming with frustration, and that’s not like him.
“Do whatever you want to do. I gotta go.”
“River?”
“We’ll talk when I get back.”
I turn the phone off and shove it into my pocket, and then I take a few long breaths, the cold air rolling into my lungs.
Calmer, I hold my palms turned up, and for a few moments, I watch the snowflakes melting on my skin.
My mind wanders away. Things will be okay. They always are, in the end.
Running my fingers through my hair, I draw another long breath, and gaze at the lodge. White smoke rolls out of the chimneys.
Next to a window, Layla sits at a table, her face buried in her hands. Right behind her, the Christmas tree tosses a rainbow of sparkling lights. The old man sits not far from her.
I hold my breath and listen. The wind blows and whistles, groaning between the frozen branches. The howling rips into the eerie silence.
I walk back to the building, enter the lobby and take a turn for the dining room. As I near Layla’s table, John shifts in his seat and looks at me.
“You have a beautiful girl there... Never lose sight of her. They don’t come by that often. “
Smiling, he raises his glass, and I nod to him, then shift my eyes to her.
“I know,” I say, savoring the blush spreading over her face.
He turns to her.
“And River is a good man, young lady... Never cross him. Men like him are rare these days.”
His comment comes unexpectedly, yet she doesn’t flinch.
“I know,” she says in one breath, locking my eyes.
John rises to his feet.
“If you nice people would excuse me. Rose...”
He exchanges a few words with Rose and strolls to the door.
I pull the chair out and sit at the table. Layla’s eyes fill with a soft smile. The Christmas lights cast a river of colors in her hair.
She glances at me, shifting through colors like the tree.
My hand slides over hers.
“Relax.”
“Here’s your hot chocolate, sweetie,” Rose says, setting the cup on the table.
Her eyes brighten with a smile.
“How did you know?”
“Kids and chocolate... It’s not that hard,” I say, grinning.
We order dinner, and moments later we start chatting, the beautiful scenery outside prompting a conversation about our childhood. It turns out the places we grew up in weren’t much different.
Through her stories, I get a glimpse of her early life and the kid she used to be. Enchanted, she talks about growing up upstate New York, the charm of the seasons, the farm where she used to live, the dogs, horses and the cats.
After all this time, these are the things still dear to her heart. I listen to her, trying to envision her as a little girl.
As she speaks and relives those moments, her eyes filter the nostalgic light of a distant past.
She doesn’t say much about her family, and I don’t press her. I don’t want to step on something that might be painful to her. I’m sure she’ll tell me on her own when the time is right.
An hour or so later, the room fills with people. We finish up, and I toss cash on the table before I grab her hand and exit the lodge.
Following the trail of our footprints, we walk back to the cabin. Once in a while we skid onto the ice covered with snow.
Holding onto each other we somehow make it to the door. We’re both terribly amused as we fight to keep our balance and not fall on our asses.
Right in front of the cabin, her arms shoot up, and her foot slides onto a patch of ice, a scream lifting off her lips. I catch her in my arms and laughing, we crash into the door.
The Christmas lights blink above us, a magical glow veiling her face. Her eyes sparkle, full of life, her hair shimmering, sprinkled with snowflakes. Some get caught in the cradle of her lashes.
Bracing my hand against the door, I drink her in.
She tips her face up, and we both look up at the sky, the snow swirling, dancing in the wind.
Mesmerized, I watch the white specks landing on her cheeks and lips, melting into small, sparkling beads, then trickling down her face.
Her smile fades away, a dash of melancholy glinting in her eyes as I cup her face and softly kiss the little tears of snow off her lashes, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. My kisses trail her face unhurriedly, filled with emotion.
Smoothly, I pull away. Mist rolls over her eyes.
“I wish this would never go away...” she says quietly, and my chest tightens.
“Me too, baby.”
“I wish you’d be there for me... to catch me if I’m ever gonna fall...” she murmurs, a sad smile brushing her lips.
“I will be there, baby. I will,” I say and give her another tender kiss.
Full of love and surrender.
4
Resting the back of my head against the tub, I stretch my body and relax.
The fire crackles quietly, throwing light and shadows on the wall. Once in a while, the logs collapse in a mound of ash. Gusts of wind sweep the windows, crying behind the frosted glass.
Candlelight glows over the room, and Christmas carols echo in the background. I can’t think of other place I’d rather be.
She’s humming a tune in the bathroom, her voice fading in and out, swallowed by the sound of the running water. It’s the kind of song you drag along when you’re happy.
I close my eyes and listen.
The water stops. So does her singing. She cracks the door open and walks into the room. Pretending I’m asleep, I keep my eyes almost shut, peering at her through my lashes. Her towel hits the ground as she smoothly steps into the tub.
She lies next to me, her lips pressing on my chest.
“River?”
I don’t move.
Intrigued she props herself up, her breath tickling my lips.
“You’re not sleeping, are you?”
Without warning, I lock her in my arms. She laughs and screams and squirms, the water sloshing out.
“Do you really expect me to be asleep with you naked on me? Only if I’m dead, baby.”
“Don’t say that...” she mutters, her eyes darkening. “I’d die if anything would happen to you,” she says, serious.
I search her eyes.
Fuck me. She really means it.
She straddles me and looks at me while I’m trying to think of something that could shift her mood for better.
“I think we can blow off the candles, and go to bed. The mood is officially grim.”
A soft laughter rolls off her lips.
“No, no. I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yes, there is. I have to apologize for earlier.”
“Yes?”
“That was a bitchy comment... About Thalia...” she says.
A small smile rolls to my lips.
“You were jealous,” I say.
“I was jealous, but for a good reason... I think.”
“Which is?”
“She�
��s smitten with you.”
I barely stifle a big tell-all grin.
“Really?”
Her eyes dip to my lips as I curve them into a slow smile.
“And you care for her. I bet, she’s good looking too.”
“All is true, except it’s not what you imagine. We know each other since we were children. We grew up together, and yes, now we know each other in more than one way, but there’s nothing else between us,” I say, gauging her reaction.
She studies me, curious.
“So, how is she?” she asks, her smile pushing a wave of heat through my blood.
“She likes women. She has a girlfriend. What else do you want to know?”
“Girlfriend? Really?”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble, discreetly shifting beneath her, trying to ease the tension between my legs.
“So how come, you two...”
“Spur of a moment. She was on a break, and I was... interested.”
She clearly feeds on my reaction, and what a reaction it is, twitching hard between her legs.
“Have you ever...? Thalia, her girlfriend and... you?”
I’ll be damn. She’s nervous but definitely taken with the topic.
“No. Why are you asking? Are you interested?”
Cocking my head to the side, I grin like a jerk.
Smiling, she drags a slow, blood boiling gaze down on me, that hardens my cock even more. Before I can whip up a couple of thoughts that make sense, she sinks her hand to my groin and tenderly strokes me.
Her lips brush mine as she softly breathes into me.
“I try to imagine... You and two women...” she says as she runs her tongue across her bottom lip and takes me in with hungry eyes.
“You, me, and who knows... Thalia if she’s ever single again?”
The image fills my head, making my shaft throb between her legs. At least I make an effort to smile intelligently.
Too bad nothing else works in my favor. I’m hard as a hammer, and there’s no way I can deny it.
My eyes dip to her mouth as she teasingly runs the edge of her teeth over her lip.
She breathes into me again.
“Hmm... I thought so,” she says, smiling amused.
“Fucking smart cookie,” I mutter.
“Mmm-hmm...” she murmurs, her lips tracing my jawline, planting soft kisses.
Smoothly, she rolls her hips and grinds against me.
