Henry opens my door, and a gust of cold wind stings my cheeks. My skin pebbles under the thin sports coat. My jacket is in the suitcase. I didn’t even think to keep it out. I just packed what was in reach.
The snow crunches under my shoes, and a light dusting of snow starts to fall. It’s beautiful.
Henry opens the trunk, grabs my suitcase, and sits the wheels on the packed snow, which I assume is from all the cars driving over it. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Rowan. I hope you find your father and he is okay.” He holds out his age-spotted hand.
“Thanks, Henry. You’ve been great.” I get my wallet out and tip him two hundred dollars after shaking his hand.
“Best wishes, Mr. Rowan.” He tilts the brim of his hat at me, and then climbs into the car. The tires spin for a moment before finding traction on the driveway.
I sigh and turn to the Mountains Retreat. It’s breathtaking. The building is styled like a chalet home, with large windows in the front as it overlooks the mountains. Big trees are in the background, tall and looming behind the resort. I’m not sure what kind they are. I’m used to Douglas Firs, but these are even bigger.
I watch as people come in and out of the entrance, smiling and laughing. Women have their hands looped through their lovers’ arms. Everyone is dressed in warm clothes. Big, oversized jackets and wool hats to keep their ears warm.
My feet stay glued to the ground, as if the snow is cement, and I’m trapped. I can’t seem to get myself to move. If I move, if I walk, I don’t know what I’m going to be walking into. Maybe my dad is in his room now, and everything is fine.
But I know that isn’t the case, no matter how much I want it to be. Hope is a fickle thing. And the smallest amount always seems to stay in my body. I guess that’s better than nothing.
Thunder rolls in the sky. Thick, grey clouds come together, threatening thundersnow. It isn’t often it happens, but when thunder rumbles in snow clouds, that is a sign of how bad it is going to be. It usually means a state of emergency.
Which means the hope for finding my dad and Barbara are dwindling.
I’m not going to help find them from standing out here. I sigh and grab the handle of my suitcase. I don’t bother rolling it since there is so much snow on the ground. I pick it up like a briefcase and stride forward. I’m wearing the wrong shoes for this. I wobble a bit as the soles slide against the ice. My arms spread out to give myself balance, but it’s no use, and I slip. I probably look like a newborn baby giraffe trying to find his legs.
I don’t do well with embarrassment, so all I can do is hope I don’t fall. I slip and slide my way to the automatic doors. When they open, I sigh a big breath of relief as the heat slams against my face, thawing my frozen cheeks.
I shake off my coat, getting the freshly fallen snow off my shoulders and look around. Damn, this place is nice. High ceilings with gold trim. The red carpet is thick and giving, cushioning every step I take.
People are coming in the doors with their skis and snowboards, goggles on their foreheads and cheeks bright red from the cold. They must be just coming in because of the storm coming.
I rub my hands together and blow hot breath in them. I’m so cold. Fuck. I thought Washington got cold. Denver is a different ball game.
“No, I know. I just want you to put fifty on that card and one hundred on the other.”
I know that voice. It’s sweet, soft, and angelic, even when she is upset.
“What do you mean you can’t take two forms of payment? I’m only here because my mother and stepfather are missing,” she snaps, stuffing her cards back in her purse.
Everly’s hair has gotten long again. It isn’t as long as it was before she chopped it, taking ten years off my life. It’s so beautiful, shining against the bright fluorescent lights. I hope she never cuts it again. When she chopped it, she looked beautiful, but with it long, she is an ethereal goddess, a creature of a myth—the ones that entangle you in the binds of their beauty.
Yeah, that is what she is, and it seems she only gets more beautiful with age.
“So that just doesn’t matter? My mother and stepfather are missing from your resort, and you don’t care? I’ve spent every last dime I’ve had to get here you hoity-toity rich snob! Just try the card again.” She is crying, but it isn’t because she is sad. No, she is about to blow this fucker up until it is nothing but rubble and dust.
I know a lot of her financial issues are due to identity theft, and I can’t imagine how frustrating it is.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t go through. The payment is declined.” The front desk clerk seems unbothered, probably because she has to deal with this every day, but it wouldn’t hurt her to be more friendly.
The first tear falls down her porcelain cheek, and it breaks the trance I have from watching from afar. I stroll forward and reach into my inner coat pocket for my wallet.
“Here, put it on my card.” I hand over the black American Express that has no limit.
The clerk’s eyes widen when she sees who I am. “Of course, Mr. Michaels. Right away.”
Everly whips her head around, causing her hair to fan out. It reminds me of a flower, spinning the stem in my hand as I watch the petals spin in circles. It’s hypnotizing, and what’s even worse, Everly has no idea she still holds all that power. She has the kind of beauty that can change the
