3. Trey
3
TREY
Once I recovered from my embarrassment of soaking myself in the restaurant, I turned back to my laptop and stared uselessly at the blank screen. Frannie called, but I sent her to voicemail. Of course, she called back, and I sent her to voicemail again. Then I felt guilty about avoiding her, so I picked up my phone and called her.
"You're alive." Her voice was flat and unamused, as usual.
I sighed loudly into the phone. “Yeah.”
She sighed too, but for a different reason. "Trey…"
"Frannie…"
"What do you need? Sex? Caviar? Shopping? Do you need another trip to Italy?"
Silence.
"Just say the word, Trey. Just tell me what you need to get. This. Book. Done." She hammered the words at me as if I’d forgotten how behind I was.
"Well, I don't need this , Fran."
"What do you mean ‘this’? Me calling you to make sure you’re okay? Me doing my job as your agent? Do you know how many people I'm fending off daily on your behalf so you can find your muse or whatever you’re doing out there?"
I rolled my eyes and tried not to sound so annoyed when I finally responded. "See, this is why I don't pick up when you call."
She was silent for a long moment. "I know. Sorry."
"It's okay." It wasn't okay, but she wasn’t wrong. As one of my only true friends, I was putting her in a bad position. “It’s my fault. I get it.”
"Just help me understand what’s going on, Trey. We're six months past due at this point. I can’t keep rescheduling tours and canceling readings. It's not a good look."
"I know, I knoooow . It's just…" My voice fell to a whisper. "Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me." I flopped down on the bed and covered my eyes with my forearm. There were people digging ditches for eight hours every day, and I couldn't muster the strength to press buttons on a laptop.
"Are you sick?" Her tone changed to that of a concerned parent, which was nice but not warranted.
I paused. "Not really." I couldn't tell Frannie that the real reason for my career-ending writer's block was an infatuation with a resort manager. I could barely admit that to myself.
"Okay, now I'm actually worried about you. I’ll book a ticket and be there tomorrow."
"No, no.” That was the last thing I needed. “I'm fine . The book is almost done. I'm sorry it’s taken so long, but it’s coming. I promise."
Frannie sighed, and I could sense she was relieved. "Are you sure you don’t need some company? I can start reading it while you button it up."
"No! I mean, no, thank you. I need to be alone for a bit longer."
It took some more acting, but by the time we hung up, I was fairly certain she’d back off for a few more days, a week if I was lucky.
After the call, I didn’t have motivation to do anything but pull a blanket over myself and fall asleep on the bed.
I slept for a long time, and when I woke up, the light outside my window had dipped into the amber yellows of deep afternoon. I was annoyed that I'd slept the day away, so I changed into my workout clothes and headed down to the pool. Swimming was a great outlet for releasing tension and clearing my head, so I swam hard for an hour before climbing out of the heated pool.
When I got back to my room, I ordered room service for dinner and hopped into the shower. Normally, I liked eating in the restaurant so I wasn’t alone, but I was still too embarrassed to risk seeing Walt after the scene I’d made at breakfast.
While I ate by myself, I decided to throw Frannie a bone and choose a cover. They all looked pretty good, but the one with Romero sitting on a fence with his shirt unbuttoned, gazing off into the sunset, kept grabbing my attention. His pistol lay in the grass at his feet, and behind him, blue mountains rose up with storm clouds in the distance. They looked a little like the mountains around Gilded Lake.
Yep, that was the one.
I hit send and closed my laptop, knowing Frannie would be thrilled that I had given her something to work with.
Something about the combination of taking a nap, exercising, and inhaling a good meal made me feel better than I had in days. So good that I needed some air. I put on a sweater and my sneakers for a nighttime walk around the lake.
At least I wouldn’t run into Walt out there.
The resort sat right on the shimmering Gilded Lake, and the paved path that went all the way around was gorgeous. During my stay, I’d gotten in the habit of walking it every night. It was usually when I got my best ideas, but I was still waiting for that to happen.
It was a little chilly, so I slipped my hands into my pockets as I passed some other guests heading back toward the resort. I heard my name whispered behind me, but since they didn’t stop to chat, I didn’t either.
Being recognized in public usually made me feel both embarrassed and a little proud, but lately, I just wanted to fade into the background.
As I got farther along the path, my mind began to wander, but my thoughts didn’t get far before settling on Walt.
While I'd had my share of crushes in my life, nobody ever had this kind of effect on me. It was unsettling. I liked to be in control. I liked my routines. I hated that Walt had such a tight grip on my mind that I couldn't focus on my work.
After I first saw Walt all those months ago, I returned home and became ill. My doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I couldn't eat, had trouble sleeping, and became lethargic and depressed. It was way beyond a simple crush or infatuation. It was like my body didn't want to exist without him.
I even went to Italy, to where Walt's family came from, in the hopes I might somehow understand what was happening to me. It was nonsensical, but I didn't know what else to do. Coming back to see Walt didn't seem like the right thing. The man was a detriment to my writing career. Finally, I'd had no choice but to return to Gilded Lake and face this thing head-on.
I'd reached the far end of the lake and stopped at the spot under a tree I liked. Watching the moonlight on the water was so peaceful despite the loneliness. That was something else I hadn't felt before I met Walt. I was a bit of a loner by nature, but now I was constantly aware of an empty space beside me. Almost instinctively, I reached over into the empty space and groped for the hand I knew wasn't there.
I heard a car approaching, which seemed odd considering the late hour. Sinking deeper into the shadows beneath my tree, I watched as a van came rumbling through the woods and backed up to the lake. Two men got out of the cab, walked around to the back, and began pulling garbage bags out.
Horrified, I couldn't look away as they lugged the heavy bags to the lake and threw them in.
Even if I wasn't so worried about the environment, what they were doing would piss me off because this was Walt's lake. I mean, it felt like his lake to me. Suddenly angry on his behalf, I stood up and stormed from the shadows, trying to look as imposing as possible.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing? You can't dump trash here!"
As soon as I got near the van, I regretted my decision. Caught off guard by my presence, one of the men dropped his bag and a human foot spilled out. My jaw dropped to the ground as my heart started to race.
"That's…that's…" I wanted to point out the obvious, but my own perilous situation became crystal clear. “Nothing. I didn’t see anything. I was never here.”
My legs kicked into gear, and I took off at a sprint, heading back toward the resort where I could get help.
But I wasn’t fast enough. I heard the movement behind me before I felt something pierce my skin and take me down. My feet were suddenly a thousand pounds and nothing else on my body worked either. Without a single sound leaving my body, I dropped to the ground, and the world went black.