17. Sydney
After signing off on an email to an associate, I tilt my laptop shut and lean back for an early morning break.
The window in my apartment kitchen nook offers a sweeping view of the Stone Arch Bridge with the sprawling Mississippi River flowing steadily underneath it, capturing my attention as it always does when I attempt to work from this spot.
The Minneapolis skyline stands tall just beyond it, and I know without a doubt that I could sit here forever and never get tired of it, especially when I can watch everyone walking the trail on the sidewalk next to my building. I love imagining a life story for each of them, trying to guess what the rest of their day will look like.
Being this close to the energy of a big city served as a fresh start for me when I came down here for college. The only memories it holds are positive ones for me—memories of a life far away from the heartbreak that home held. A place that aided in my tendency to deflect and avoid my piercing emotions.
Before jumping back into my emails to check on the delivery status of the furniture I ordered for Ruby Lodge’s dining room, I head to the kitchen to get rid of my empty tea cup.
As much as I’ve enjoyed watching the Ruby Lodge renovation begin to come to life—and seeing Graham and Blair on a daily basis—it feels really good to be back home in my own space.
With a smile, I look around the room, taking it all in. It’s not hard to note the vast difference compared to the environment at Ruby Lodge. Stark-white paint covers every square inch of wall space, offering a modern blank canvas as a background. Of course, I wouldn’t feel at home here without adding my signature pops of color.
There are several cascading plants hanging in almost every corner of this main living space. A mauve-and-cream vase adorns the middle of the kitchen island with a beautiful faux bouquet of flowers whose colors pop against the white cabinets.
Off to the right, my beloved thrifted sage-green couch frames the outline of the living room, with mustard-yellow accent pillows neatly settled on each side. A bundle of colorful tissue paper flowers adorn the wall—I made those myself—hanging above a muted orange-gingham bookshelf.
Bright and vibrant. Exactly how I like to keep my space.
An email pings from my laptop, and I head back to the table to check it. There, I find an email from my boss, inquiring about an update on a development project I’m slated to start working on after Ruby Lodge is complete.
While I type a reply email, a call from Graham comes in.
“Hey, Graham,” I say with a smile, realizing how much I’ve missed him in the span of only a day.
“Syd.” There’s enough of a panic in the way he says my name to instantly wipe the smile off my face.
Mom.
“What is it? What happened?” Fear grips my chest in a fierce chokehold. If something happened to her and I’ve wasted all this time not being there, I’ll never, ever forgive myself.
“Neal’s team was digging near the back of the lodge this morning, and a pipe burst,” he explains in a huff.
Both overwhelming relief and an entirely different kind of panic wash over me.
“How bad?” I demand.
“The entire main lodge is flooded.”
“Oh no,” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Are you serious?”
“Well, seeing as I’m currently standing in two inches of water, I’d say I’m pretty serious.”
I close my laptop with a thud and shove it into my carrying case as fast as I can.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
In my rushed haze, I almost forget to thank Sam as I jump out of the floatplane.
“Thank you,” I call into the wind, securing my backpack onto my shoulders while breaking into a run off the dock. The panic in my chest hasn’t let up since Graham called to tell me the news this morning. I rushed to gather my things and got here as fast as I possibly could.
When I hastily rip open the door of the lodge and step inside, my boot immediately slushes through at least an inch of standing water.
My stomach drops with a heavy thud that threatens to bowl me right over, and as much as I try to keep it at bay, emotion starts to prick at the corners of my eyes.
Not like this… It’s not supposed to happen like this.
“Hey,” Graham’s voice cuts me out of my spiraling thoughts as he comes out of the dining hall, carrying a bucket. “Here, give me your backpack. I’ll set it on the bench outside. Everyone is in the kitchen where the water is the worst.”
My mouth falls open to reply, but no words come through the fog in my brain. How can he be so calm about this?
He uses his free hand to slide my backpack off my back for me, and then he exits through the door behind me. I numbly follow voices toward the kitchen, stunned at the mess that surrounds me.
The water deepens with each step I take as I go behind the bar and through the swinging doors. The kitchen doors are propped open, and Shirley, Blair, and Neal are forming an assembly line, passing buckets between themselves. I barely register Cole in the very back, helping to scoop water.
“Hey,” Blair says when she spots me. She sounds as exhausted as she looks.
“This is…” My voice trails off.
“A disaster,” she finishes for me when I can’t.
“Sorry to throw a wrench in your plans, Sydney,” Neal says, regret obvious on his face.
I shake my head, offering a wave of my hand that I hope makes it clear I don’t blame him. Accidents happen, especially in construction zones.
My breathing quickens into deep erratic pants as my eyes fall to the floor. The wooden planks my grandfather once laid by hand are barely visible, submerged under water. The floor that my family—the people who mean the most to me—has walked on tirelessly and countless times over many years…now completely ruined. Not salvageable to be repurposed like I had originally planned.
A sharper grip of panic seizes me as my mind replays the memories built between these walls. The love that was woven into the very fabric of my family’s name. All of it tarnished.
“Hey.” Graham’s warm hand on my shoulder gives me something else to focus on, and I swing my panicked gaze to him.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, his brows furrowing as he takes my current panicked state in.
“But…” Once again, my words trail off as I struggle to work through this visceral reaction.
He places a hand on my back. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but…we’re re-doing all of this anyway, right? Renovating it?”
“Yeah,” I say weakly. “But not like this.”
I planned to have time to say goodbye to each area before it was torn down. I wanted to salvage original pieces and mementos to help gradually smooth the process of change and repurpose what we can. Rebuild and restore the lodge. Not have a big part of it taken so abruptly like this. I didn’t even have time to take some pictures.
I wasn’t ready.
Blinking back tears, I try to rein in my emotions while I run my fingers through my hair. I’m overwhelmed, and my mind is racing a million miles a minute as I span the kitchen once more. My eyes lock on Cole in the back. His hands are moving the bucket to scoop water, but his dark eyes are pinned on me, studying me with concern in his brows.
“How about we take a break and figure out a plan now that Syd’s here?” Graham suggests.
“Good idea,” Blair replies.
The water sloshes as we all move out of the kitchen. Graham puts an arm around my shoulder, providing a steady frame for me to slump against as he leads me out.
When we get out to the porch, we circle around a table. The fresh air helps to quell some of the overwhelming emotion I have, leaving a lingering heaviness as I try to switch my brain to crisis-management mode.
“Alright, give it to us straight, Neal,” Graham says.
Neal heaves a heavy sigh. “Well, we’ll get the water remediated, but there’ll likely be water damage to the floors. I wish I could say there’s a quick fix to make the space operational, but truthfully, there’s no point in putting resources into fixing it up until we’re ready for the official renovations we had planned. That won’t be for another couple weeks.”
“So, the main lodge is officially out of commission,” Graham says.
“I hate to say it.” Neal cringes. “But yes, it’s not operational, unfortunately.”
“Okay.” Graham nods, his brain clearly doing a better job of processing this than mine is. “That means the kitchen is down. And the cabins are full of guests we need to feed.”
“Thankfully, my latest group of campers left two days ago, so we don’t have any children on-site,” Blair points out. “But we had a big group of people come in for a fishing retreat yesterday. What do we do with them?”
“My guys have double-checked—all cabins are still fully operational,” Neal confirms.
“But how do we feed them without a kitchen?” Blair asks.
“Can Shirley prepare food from a different location? What about my cabin? Could we set up a makeshift kitchen?” I ask. My brain finally seems to be working.
“Too small.” Shirley cringes.
“Any chance Gilbert would let us use his place?” I already know the answer, but I throw it out there anyway.
That earns me several chuckles.
“Not a chance,” Graham murmurs.
“Use mine,” Cole offers from where he’s standing off to the side against the railing.
Silence falls as we all turn toward him.
“Say that again?” Graham asks as if he didn’t hear him correctly.
“I’m serious. It’s not much, but it’s bigger than these cabins. And it’s got a fully functioning kitchen. It’s all yours if you want it.”
“That might actually work… We could shuttle guests back and forth from here with the ATV? Have them eat in shifts?” Graham asks no one in particular. “Are you sure, Cole?”
“Absolutely.” Not a hint of doubt or regret is found in his tone, and I study him, too emotionally spent to hold any animosity toward him at this moment. All I can do is appreciate his selflessness.
“We’ll probably need Shirley to stay onsite, then, if that’s okay? She can set up a home base there so her schedule is disrupted as little as possible.” Graham looks at Cole, who nods his approval.
“Okay, this could work,” Blair chimes in. “Maybe Graham and I can take Shirley’s cabin, then, since we can’t stay in the apartment anymore?”
“Of course,” Shirley agrees.
“But wait, where will Cole stay?” Graham asks the question that popped into my head a few moments ago but haven’t spoken aloud.
A sudden mix of anticipation and dread fills my stomach all at once when several heads slowly turn toward me.