The Haunting of Silver Creek Lodge Page 9

  Small bits of tea leaves had settled on the bottom of my mug. I whisked them around with a spoon. “To be honest, I don’t know what’s going to happen, either. I’ve had trouble deciding what the Queen should do.”

  “Be with her lover,” Bubbles said automatically. “First of all, it would divert expectations. Everyone expects the Queen to kill him, right? She’s never trusted anyone before, not even her previous partners. She’s always been betrayed, but this time it’s different. He loves her regardless of her secret, not in spite of it. It’s different, you see.”

  “What grade are you in?”

  “Ninth,” she said. “I skipped third and fifth.”

  “So, you’re a genius.”

  “I just read a lot,” Bubbles replied. “It’s easier to read then deal with real life, don’t you think?”

  “That’s why I started drawing comics in the first place,” I admitted. “But real life eventually catches up to you.”

  “Eventually,” Bubbles said. “But I’m going to enjoy fantasy life while I’m a kid. It won’t be long before I have to worry about money and jobs and all that.”

  “You are mature for your age.”

  “I try to appreciate the present,” she said. “The Queen is teaching me that. I guess you are, too.”

  I sat against the booth, looking over the girl. “I’m starting to think I need to take my own advice.”

  “Let’s talk,” said Bubbles. She held up two fingers to Cassie. A few minutes later, the barista brought over two steaming mugs of a frothy white substance, each garnished with peppermint splinters and chocolate-dipped tuiles.

  “Two Bubbles Specials,” Cassie announced. “With extra peppermint.”

  Bubbles let out a squeal of delight as she pulled the drink toward her and took a long sip. When she pulled away, the stuff coated her nose. She licked her lips. “Ahh. I invented this drink!”

  I sniffed mine. “Is this hot chocolate?”

  “White hot chocolate,” Bubbles corrected. “With peppermint! It makes me happy. That’s how you should do your work. Write what makes you happy!”

  “It’s not so simple.”

  “What are you scared of?” she asked bluntly.

  “Who said I was scared?”

  Bubbles shrugged. “If you can’t figure out to write, it’s for a reason. Maybe you’re afraid people won’t like it if the Queen makes the wrong decision. They might blame you.” She took a crunchy bite of a tuile. “Or maybe something’s happening in your real life that’s making you question the Queen’s decisions.”

  “Are you a therapist, too?”

  “I’m good at perceiving people,” she said. “That’s all. Drink your drink.”

  I took a sip of my Bubbles Special. It was the most delicious thing I’d tasted in a long time. Maybe Bubbles was right. Maybe I had to remind myself why I liked writing and drawing in the first place.

  By the time I returned to the Lodge, Simon and Keith had finished their work for the day, washed up, and were on their way out to their first official meeting with the Gentlemen’s Club of Silver Creek.

  Simon kept his head down as he brushed past me. “See you later,” he mumbled.

  “Simon—” I started, but he was already halfway across the front yard.

  I watched as he hopped into Keith’s truck, and they drove off.

  “Everything okay?”

  I turned to face Lily, who’d been lingering near the foot of the stairs without my noticing. “It will be. I was a jerk to him earlier.”

  “Why?”

  I gnawed on my lip, wondering that myself. “I guess I’m blaming him for things that aren’t his fault.”

  Lily came down the stairs. “Do you usually get along better?”

  “We never fight,” I said. “This is out of the box for us.”

  “Seems a little unrealistic,” she replied. “A couple that doesn’t fight.”

  Cold seeped under the door and into the entrance. I drew the blanket from the couch around my shoulders and sat down in the lobby. “We have miscommunications. We get upset with each other, but we don’t yell or scream or shout insults. We always come back together, but this feels different.”

  She sat next to me and rested her hand on my knee. “Did something happen last night? I heard you scream, and you’ve looked off all day.”

  My throat closed up. Did I want to talk about this with someone I barely knew? I thought of Bubbles. Maybe you’re scared. I was definitely scared. Maybe opening up to someone who wasn’t Simon could help.

  “When I was a kid,” I began, “my house caught fire—gas leak. The whole place went up in flames in a few minutes flat. My best friend was sleeping over. She died that night, along with both of my parents. I was the only one who got out.”

  Lily didn’t speak. She gently rested her forehead against mine. Somehow, that was all I needed. Throughout my life, I’d heard every sentiment in the book. Sorry for your loss. God, that’s terrible. You’re so strong. I didn’t need sentiments anymore. I needed a single person to be there for me. Usually, it was Simon, but Lily was doing a decent job in his stead.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” she said softly, cupping the back of my neck. “That’s all you need to know.”

  Sometimes, I believed that.

  8

  November passed in a haze of construction. Slowly but surely, we made progress on the Lodge. We emptied the dumpster twice more until there was no more debris inside. The Lodge was completely gutted. No carpets, no walls, no bathtubs or sinks. Even the presidential suite was stripped to its bones. The place looked more depressing than it had when we first bought it, but at least it was a blank slate now.

  Living in the Lodge when it had next to no amenities was a huge challenge. We’d been showering in the locker rooms of the local gym in town, mostly eating out, and sleeping in one of the rooms on the ground floor while we replaced the flooring upstairs. Without a real place to call home, I couldn’t kick my cold. It lived in my chest like it paid rent. At night, a hacking cough kept me up, no matter how much syrup I chugged. Black circles grew beneath my eyes, getting bigger as my insomnia got worse. Half the time, the world seemed foggy around me.

  Simon and I didn’t talk. We were polite, cordial, but things were different between us. He and Keith disappeared two or three times a week to meet with the Gentlemen’s Club. Neither one of them bothered to share the contents of the meetings. Keith’s cheerful whistling always increased the day after a meeting, but Simon didn’t seem affected. Sometimes, he came home smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey, but I dared not question if he had partaken in such vices.

  When I felt well enough, I helped work on the Lodge. When I didn’t, I either tried to get some more sleep or mentally mapped out volume three of Rebel Queen. On the upside of things, Bubbles’s advice somewhat worked. After we had talked, I found myself sketching the Queen on random bits of material, like old two-by-fours or foam takeout containers. The quick sketches came naturally, and other than transferring them to an actual drawing book, I didn’t push myself to do much more.

  For Thanksgiving, Keith invited us to dinner at his mother’s house. Lily politely declined, but Simon and I had no reason not to accept. We weren’t accustomed to celebrating holidays with other people. Christian and Sienna usually traveled to see their families, leaving us on our own.

  The house was in the neighborhood we’d driven through upon our arrival in Silver Creek, where I wished we’d been able to purchase a place to live. It was the smallest one on the block with pale pink shutters and a matching door. The windowsill flowers were dead for the year, but the mounds of pure white snow made up for the lack of decoration. Simon parked on the curb but didn’t get out of the car.

  “Do you have extra medicine?” he asked me. “Extra tissues in case you get sniffly in there?”

  A slight warmth spread through me. Was he worried?

  “It’s rude to sniffle all through a meal,” he added, rifling th
rough the glove box. “I’ll shove some extras into my pockets. We don’t want Keith’s mother to think we’re animals. Are you ready?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Keith’s mother opened the front door before we made it all the way up the sidewalk. She was an older woman for having a son in his early twenties, with tightly curled gray hair and a pink apron around her waist.

  “Welcome!” she said, beaming as we stepped over the threshold. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet Keith’s friends finally! He’s been talking nonstop about the two of you for a month. I’m Loretta—Keith, get down here!” she hollered up the stairs.

  The house smelled like fresh herbs and roasted potatoes, wafting out from the kitchen toward the back. The living and dining areas were cramped into one room. The table was set for four with embroidered cloth napkins, pretty ceramic plates, and tall white candles. Pictures of Keith from every school year lined the wall up the steps. He had not always been such a gangly kid. In second and third grade particularly, he resembled a round meatball.

  “Don’t look at those!” Keith joked from the top of the stairs. He wore a green sweater that clashed with his blue plaid pants. Were it not for the red-and-white fuzzy socks, he’d looked like he was trying to emulate Boyce’s style and failing. As he came down, he covered as many school pictures with his arms as possible. “Mom won’t take them down.”

  “Of course not!” Loretta said, offended. “You’re my best boy.”

  “I’m your only boy.” He kissed his mother on the cheek before shaking Simon’s hand and giving me a quick hug. “Come in, you guys! We’ve got the football game on, and Mom’s making enough food to serve a hundred.”

  “Is it just the four of us?” I asked as I unwound my scarf.

  Loretta took our coats and hung them in the closet. “Yes, I’m afraid Keith’s father is no longer with us. It’s been the two of us for a while now. Sorry, it’s probably not the big party you were expecting.”

  “This is great,” Simon said with the soft smile he hadn’t shown to me in weeks. “I prefer smaller gatherings. It smells delicious. You must know what you’re doing.”

  Loretta’s face turned pink. “You are a charmer, aren’t you? And so handsome. Look at these beautiful cheeks.”

  She cupped Simon’s jaw with her hand. He looked startled. Unlike Loretta, who subtly pulled away when she saw Simon’s reaction, I knew why. Simon wasn’t used to familial affection. He had never had it before.

  “You, too, darling,” Loretta added, turning her attention to me. “No wonder Keith has a little crush on you. You are a thing of beauty.”

  “Mom!” Keith hissed. “Really? I don’t know what she’s talking about, Max. She’s going a bit nuts in her old age.’

  Loretta smacked Keith’s shoulder with an oven mitt. “Hush, you. Why don’t you make yourself useful and check the turkey?”

  “As long as you don’t tell more lies about me,” he called over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen.

  Loretta checked to make sure Keith was out of earshot before saying, “I can’t thank you two enough. I’ve been worried about Keith since he graduated from high school. He’s been a bit aimless for the past few years, and I thought he might be getting depressed, but ever since he started working on that old lodge, my boy’s been happy as a clam.”

  “He’s a hard worker,” Simon said. “If it weren’t for him, we would be way behind our schedule. He’s good at what he does, too. I wish I could pay him more.”

  “He’s making more than he usually does in town,” Loretta said. “He even mentioned getting an apartment. I don’t want him to go, but I do think he should exercise more independence—”

  “Stop talking about me,” Keith ordered, emerging from the kitchen.

  His mother tugged his earlobe. “We were just saying what a good boy you are.”

  Keith puffed out his chest. “I’m a man, Ma!” We all laughed, and Keith returned to his usual posture. “The turkey isn’t quite up to temperature. I’d give it another half hour or so. Does anyone want some cheese and crackers? A glass of wine?”

  “Water for me, please,” Simon said.

  Before I could answer, a coughing fit overcame me. I turned away and hid my mouth in the crook of my elbow. Moisture streamed from my eyes as I fought to control my breath.

  “You poor thing!” Loretta patted my back with the right amount of force to coax whatever clogged my lungs up and out. “I know exactly what you need to get rid of that cough.”

  A few minutes later, I was wrapped in a handmade quilt and propped up on the comfy pink sofa with a hot toddy in hand. I had been instructed not to move until dinner was ready.

  Loretta sat near my feet, nursing straight whiskey. She squeezed my toes beneath the blanket as if she’d known me for my entire life. “Feeling a little better? I have vapor rub upstairs if you need it. That was the only thing that stopped Keith’s coughing when he was little.”

  “I’m all right,” I said truthfully. The warmth of whiskey, lemon, and honey on my throat and the blanket around my neck eased the soreness in my chest. “Thank you so much. I haven’t been so well taken care of in years.”

  It was, in no way, a slight against Simon. Even so, I saw him cast a furtive look in my direction.

  “My mom passed away,” I explained to Loretta hurriedly, more for Simon’s benefit than anything else. I didn’t want another argument when we got home. “Keith’s lucky to have you.”

  “He sure is,” she said, loudly enough for Keith to hear her. She chuckled to herself and patted my knee. “No one can replace your mother, but I’m happy to fill in. You can drop by any time you like. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

  My chin trembled. “That’s so nice of you.”

  She looked over her shoulder. Keith and Simon had wandered into the next room, absorbed in a private conversation. “Like I said, Keith’s been a different man since the two of you came to town. I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe us anything,” I assured her.

  “Believe me, I do,” she insisted in a low whisper. “Keith had no drive after his father left us. He was sixteen, and he felt abandoned. His grades tanked, he acted out, and he lost his chance at an athletic scholarship. I wanted him to get out of Silver Creek, at least for a little while, but he wouldn’t go. He claims he doesn’t want to leave me alone. Then the stalking situation happened—”

  I sat up a little straighter. “Stalking situation. What do you mean?”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” Loretta said hurriedly. “Keith took a liking to a man in town. Boyce Driscoll. Everyone knows him. Have you met him?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, my tone darkening as I thought about Simon and the Gentlemen’s Club. “I know Boyce.”

  “After Keith’s father left, Boyce caught wind of it,” Loretta explained. “He came by and offered to take Keith to a ball game in the big city. Keith was ecstatic. He had a great time. Boyce bought him a hat and Dippin’ Dots, the whole shebang.”

  “But?” I pressed.

  “It was a one-time thing,” she answered. “Boyce did it to cheer up Keith, but then Keith started following him around like a puppy dog. I didn’t think it was a problem at first. Then the school called to tell me Keith had been skipping classes. I confronted Boyce, thinking it was his fault for luring Keith out of class, but he told me my son was a nuisance. Interrupting meetings, butting in where he wasn’t invited, et cetera.”

  She checked once more to make sure Keith wasn’t listening in, but the boys weren’t even inside anymore. I caught a glimpse of them walking around the front of the house, pointing to something on the roof.

  “I read Keith the riot act,” Loretta went on. “Told him I wouldn’t accept this kind of behavior. I grounded him for the rest of the school year, but it didn’t make a difference. I couldn’t force him to go to class. I had a job of my own to do. He didn’t stop chasing Boyce around, either. Rather, he did it in secret. It all came to a head when Boyce had Keith ar
rested for stalking and trespassing.”

  I watched Keith through the window, chatting happily with Simon. I had a hard time believing this was the same kid who gave his mother hell. “Trespassing where?”

  “First, at Boyce’s house,” Loretta said, sighing. “Then, up at your lodge. This was four years ago,” she added quickly. “He’s learned his lesson since then.”

  My brow furrowed. “He followed Boyce up to the Lodge?”

  “That’s what the police report said.”

  “But someone else owned the Lodge then,” I said. “A man named Earl. How could Keith have been arrested for trespassing at a public space?”

  Loretta took another long sip of whiskey. “By that time, Earl had long since closed the Lodge to public access. It was private property, with a sign and everything. Keith wasn’t supposed to be there.”

  “But Boyce had permission?”

  “That has puzzled me to this day,” she replied. “The feud between Earl and Boyce was infamous in Silver Creek. Those two men hated each other, and no one in town could figure out why. It’s one of the reasons Earl stopped showing up in town. He didn’t want to face Boyce, so he stayed at home in the woods. I don’t understand why Earl would have had Keith arrested that night but not Boyce.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll never find out. Ooh, hush. The boys are coming back inside.”

  The back door slammed at the same time the oven alarm went off. Simon and Keith’s voices floated into the front room.

  “You can fix that yourself,” Simon was saying. “All you need are some new shingles and a nail gun. You won’t have to replace the whole roof.”

  “That is music to my ears!” Loretta sang, leaping off the couch. “I don’t have the money to replace that old roof. Let’s see if that turkey’s ready to be carved, shall we?”

  As Simon went into the kitchen, Keith helped me up from the couch.

  “Did Mom tell you any horror stories about me?” he asked with a smile.

  I smiled back. “Of course not.”