Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Avery Jane
Fridays were easy.
At least lately they had been, but I hadn’t been sleeping well the last few weeks, and today I was so tired, I felt almost delirious. I’d already chugged one very large lavender London Fog from Coffee Shot and was planning to go back for another.
Usually, the end of the week was busy with bouquet creations for lovers to give one another over the weekend or center pieces to display at family dinners, but the last couple weeks had been slow, so instead I busied myself prepping recurring orders.
One large order would go to the Lee Family Inn, the new-ish and lavish B&B on the outskirts of town that Dixon’s family owned and operated.
During the holidays, I’d make bouquets for the inn with fall-colored chrysanthemums and Christmas poinsettias, but throughout the more mundane parts of the year, I made arrangements for them with dahlias and daisies, tulips, and roses, with native Wyoming plants as fillers.
I delivered the table topper to Cade Ranch for Everlea, and she was pleased as punch with the plum-colored Asiatic lilies I’d chosen.
But to rough them up a bit for the ranch setting, I’d used a rectangular, reclaimed wood box I’d picked up at a local farmers market, set low vases in the bottom, packed them in peat moss, and wove pincushion scabiosa pods and yellow billy buttons around the vases.
A few black dahlias and white anemones finished the masculine look, and feathery wisps of dried pampas grass were the perfect finishing touch.
By the time I finished deliveries in town, it was noon, so I repacked my van and headed out to Lee Valley. The day was gloomy, rain had been forecasted, and the clouds certainly agreed. They’d been rolling toward Wisper since the morning.
I pulled up in front of the large cedar inn that had been built into the side of a mountain, and with its beautiful shingle-and-shake eaves, it was the picture of an expensive, rustic getaway.
I was happy that I’d added the black dahlias to the bouquets for Lee Valley, too, because they would enhance the whole natural mountain vibe.
As I set about organizing the flowers by which floor of the inn they would go to, I slipped in my earbuds and jammed out to Madonna’s True Blue album. If “True Blue” was playing and I wasn’t happy, something was really wrong. And “Live to Tell” had been the song of my soul since I was twelve.
It was fitting that it popped up on my playlist now because the song had always reminded me of Dixon. All those stories he used to tell were his secret wishes and dreams wrapped up in dragons and queens and all their frocks and frills, and I used to be the keeper of those secrets.
Bopping along in my own little world, my whole body broke out in goosebumps when, without warning, someone plucked my right earbud out of my ear, and a deep voice cut through the music.
I yelped in surprise, and the arrangement I’d been holding slipped through my fingers, but before it splattered at my feet, big hands caught it and placed it back in the van with not a flower out of place.
“Sorry,” Dixon said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Jeez, Dixon.” Hand to my heart, I breathed, “You scared the crap out of me.” He passed me the earbud. I took the other one out, tucked them into their box, and stowed them back in my pocket. I looked behind him and saw his car idling. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I saw you drivin’ over here. I was headed to your shop to change the locks on your back door, but I figured that’d be pretty dumb if you weren’t there.”
“Thanks, but there’s nothin’ wrong with the back door. You don’t have to change the locks.”
“I know. I checked it the other day, but with the break-in at your house, I thought it’s probably a good idea to change it anyway.”
“I’ve never given anyone a key to the back door though.”
“Doesn’t mean someone couldn’t get ahold of your key and make a copy, especially if that someone has been snoopin’ around in your house.”
“Oh,” I said, a little taken aback at the thought. He was right, but the possibility had never even crossed my mind.
“It’s no problem,” he said. “Won’t take long.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Sure. So,” he said, waving his hand toward the rest of the flowers in the back of my van. “What else is on your agenda today?”
“Oh, um, this is it. After I’m done here, I’m gonna head over to Mountain Home. I promised someone a game of Go Fish.”
Kicking the toe of his boot into the gravel and staring at the scattering rocks, he looked very lost on his family’s land.
“What brings you out here?” I asked. It seemed today I would have to wring conversation out of him. “You said you had to work today.”
He nodded. “Already did. Went in at four thirty. The boss gave me a key, if you can imagine that. Anyway, I was done with everything by ten. I’ve gotta run back over there this afternoon to help with a big delivery, but he told me to enjoy the rest of the day till then.
“I met my sister-in-law this mornin’, Devo. Do you know her?”
“Yeah, she’s a lot of fun.”
“Yeah? I don’t know about that. She kinda scares the shit out of me. She told me if I break her wife’s heart again, she’ll beat me up.”
I laughed, trying to picture tiny Devo Mescal-Lee pulling Dixon’s hair and pummeling him with her itty-bitty fists. I didn’t doubt she’d get the job done though.
“Other than that, she seems cool.”
“She is,” I said. “I’ve met her at several Wisper events. You won’t find anybody more dedicated to her community.”
He nodded again and tucked his hands in his front pockets, then lifted his chin toward the inn. “It’s crazy that’s here now.”
“It hadn’t been built last time you were home?”
“No. That was almost five years ago. I came up once or twice to check on Stu, but I didn’t talk to my family or look around much.”
That had to have been hard, but I didn’t say so, and neither did he.
I wasn’t sure if he was uncomfortable around me today for some reason or if he just felt out of place here at Lee Valley, but I knew I could help.
“Have you seen inside? It really is lovely in there. People come from all over to stay at the inn. Your brothers and Bea are the bosses, but they have a few really great employees. And the rooms are downright luxurious.”
“No,” he said. “Haven’t seen it.”
Had he not been invited to? But maybe with him coming home unexpectedly, his family just hadn’t thought to give him the tour yet. I could rectify that.
“C’mon. If you’re not busy till later this afternoon, I could use your help with the flowers, and then you could come with me to Mountain Home for a few hours. I’d love the company.”
He must’ve recognized the olive branch, because something in his aura eased, and his whole body relaxed right before my eyes. He smiled, and even though the dark clouds still loomed above us, it felt like the sun had come out just to shine down on me.
“Sure,” he said. “Love to.” He looked behind him at his still idling car. “Let me just park real quick.”
With the El Camino locked in the little parking area on the north side of the inn, Dixon followed me to the entrance.
His footsteps behind me sounded a bit tentative.
There was that hint again, a hint of the angst I’d noticed inside him when he felt like he didn’t belong somewhere.
It was just a hush, but I heard it, just like I had the first night he came to my house.
Didn’t he know? He had always belonged wherever I was, and he always would.
He rushed in front of me to open the heavy wooden door, and as we stepped inside, his eyes widened. “Wow.”
“I know, right? It’s really nice.”
Following his line of sight, I tried to see the inn the same way he was seeing it for the first time.
The whole place had been built and lit expertly to seem open and bright during the day, and you couldn’t help but notice how the outside world snuck in through big windows and doors.
Nature whispered in an old language, its voice the rhythm of the sounds of our steps on the real, knotty wood floors.
The coolness of colors and textures and the warmth and life force of live plants argued playfully, creating the feeling of home.
Elk antlers were the focus of the front room.
Collected after their shed and hung above an overlarge fireplace, they were a reminder of how dangerous and untouchable the wild surrounding the inn could be.
But my flowers and other décor lent beauty and familiarity to the danger and made the reception room, which also functioned as something like an old-fashioned parlor, feel rich and warm.
And in the evenings, the lights darkened, shading corners and hushing conversations, and it transformed the whole place into a sexy, secluded hideaway.
A staircase curved behind the reception desk and opened up to the second floor, and it flowed perfectly, the polished brass banister earthy in a way but fancy at the same time.
Dark, plush couches and chairs filled the first floor, and a local artist’s paintings of the Tetons in each season highlighted the lushness of the inn and juxtaposed the ruggedness of the locale.
Big, wide front windows framed Dixon’s family’s wooded property.
I’d heard locals saying recently that moose had been seen near the inn, and it was common knowledge that elk and deer played in the fields frequently.
I tried to crane my neck and spot some through the windows but didn’t see anything.
They had probably already hunkered down before the storm.
Everything had been perfectly decorated and seemed a bit fancy for the area, if I was honest, but God knew we got enough big-spender tourists out this way.
Dixon’s brothers had figured out how to cater to every kind of vacationer.
If you were looking for a more down-to-earth experience, you could rent a cabin and help at Abey’s and Devo’s veggie farm or take guided horseback tours of the land, but if you wanted the poshness of an all-inclusive inn and catered, five-star meals, you could pay the big bucks and stay at The Inn at Lee Valley.
Dixon looked a little like his head might be spinning, so I ushered him up the stairs to deliver the flowers and watched his hand slowly slide up the smooth banister as we climbed.
And when I unlocked a room with the master keycard the desk clerk had handed me, like she did every week, Dixon’s head snapped back.
“This is… I’ve never seen a nicer hotel room in my life. Who the hell stays here? Royalty?”
I laughed. “All kinds of people, I’d imagine. I don’t usually see or talk to the guests, but I’ve caught a few here and there. And one time, a woman staying in this very room liked my flowers so much, she stopped by the shop and ordered more.”
He smiled. “Of course she did. Your flowers are beautiful.”
“How would you know?” I joked. “You bought bottom-of-the-barrel daisies.”
He rolled his eyes. “Merv loved ’em.”
“I’m sure she did. They came from you.”
We finished the delivery, his eyes roving over every detail of the inn while we worked, and then we returned the keycard and walked back out to my van.
“I’m damn proud of my family right now,” he said quietly. “And way past impressed.”
“How’s it goin’ with them?” I asked as I drove us out to Old Fish Creek Road to Highway 20, and then to the rehabilitation center on the opposite side of town.
The end of summer was in full swing, and cars and trucks passed us with their windows down, music blaring from within.
Soon, the local ice cream truck would be making its rounds through town, its happy song tinkling on the warm air, hopefully before the big storm came knocking.
When Nana Nelson’s husband passed, she used part of his life insurance payout to buy the truck, and all the Wisper kiddos waited for her every Friday in front of their houses after school to get a frozen treat.
I’d bought a Bomb Pop from her a time or two myself.
“Oh, yeah, it’s…”
Dixon didn’t finish his sentence, which told me enough.
“Not goin’ well?”
“It’s not bad. It’s just that it’s kind of overwhelmin’, y’know?”
“How so?”
“Well, it’s not just my son I wanna get to know.
It’s not just him I owe amends to.” He sighed heavily and shrugged.
“It’s goin’ better than I thought it would, though.
They could’ve shut me out completely. Maybe they should’ve.
I didn’t even know about the inn until Abey mentioned it my first day back.
Life went on without me. I knew it would.
I hoped it would for Stu’s sake, but it’s just that I don’t know where I fit anymore. ”
Finally, he’d said it out loud.
“It will take time,” I said softly. “That’s all.”
It was clear when he spoke and the weight of a thousand burdens lowered his voice that he needed his family. “Yeah.”
“Do you have plans to spend time with Stu yet? Are they… allowing that?”
“Bax is comin’ around slowly. Merv invited me for Sunday supper, and he agreed. He has a lot of rules though. Which is fine. Of course it is, but I just hope I don’t fuck it up.”
“Rules?”
“Yeah, y’know, like ‘Don’t tell Stu you’re his birth father.’ ‘Don’t bring up rehab or drugs or jail.’ Like I would with a five-year-old? And my favorite is ‘Don’t come around here expectin’ everyone to forgive you.’”
“Oh, Dixon. I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard to hear, but you know your brother is hurt, right? He’s tryin’ to protect Stu, but he’s protectin’ his heart too.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dixon said as I pulled into Mountain Home’s parking lot.
I shut off the van and turned toward him. “Tweedledum?”
Looking out his window, his eyes focused on the mountains, rising and falling over the many grand peaks. “Yeah?”
“It’s gonna be okay. You got this. And I’m happy you’re home. You fit with me.”