Читать книгу Blissfully Yours - Diann Walker - Страница 12

The knot in my throat grows with Mitch’s ever widening eyes. I wish he’d say something. Anything.

“Vertigo?” He stares at the pine stand and says the word as though he expects the furniture to answer. He lifts his gaze to me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to. I really did.” I’m sure he’ll never believe me. I might as well pack up and go home now. “Candace, I should have told you long ago, but I was too ashamed.”

“Oh, Gwen, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have talked you into this,” Candace says.

“Talked her into this? I thought you said she wanted this job.”

Granny clucks her tongue and heads for the stairway.

I don’t like the look on Mitch’s face. I feel a sibling storm approaching. I’m thinking I want to go back on the ski lift. On second thought, maybe not. But why would Candace tell Mitch I actually wanted this job? She sought me out because he needed a cook—or so I thought. ’Course, the fact that Granny showed up makes me a bit suspicious now.

“Did you have anything to do with Granny coming?” Mitch puts as much punch in his voice as a whisper will allow.

“No, Mitch, I promise,” Candace says, drawing an X across her heart with her finger and raising her hand in a solemn pledge.

Mitch seems to believe her. He blows out a sigh. I know he’s wondering where to go from here.

“Don’t worry, Mitch, I’ll pack my things and head for home. This is my problem, not yours.”

He looks at me with those warm hazel eyes, and my heart melts down to my toes. “No, I don’t want you to leave, Gwen. We’ll get through this.”

I’m enjoying this a whole lot. He doesn’t want me to leave. He’s willing to work with me here. This has to mean something, right? The fact that he needs someone in the coffee shop nags at me a little, but I push it aside.

“I can ride the ski lift as long as I don’t look down,” I offer as some sort of truce.

He brightens a little, and I’m feeling a surge of hope.

“You really think so?”

I nod eagerly.

“I don’t know, Gwen,” Candace says, looking all motherly and concerned.

“I can do it, Candace,” I say, my gaze cutting off further discussion. She looks from me to Mitch, back to me. Her right eyebrow rises, and I’m almost certain I see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Yeah, she gets it.

“Well, if you think so. I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says, and I have the feeling she’s talking about more than the ski lift here.

My eyes hold hers. “I think I do.” We both turn to Mitch who looks totally oblivious to the underlying messages. He’s such a guy. But that’s a good thing. I’m glad that he’s a guy. And I’m glad that he’s oblivious. It’s just better that way.

He looks into my face. “So will you stay?” His voice is husky here, and it causes my skin to tingle. I don’t want to read more into things than are there, but my female radar tells me he might be interested in me, too.

Bring out a bowl of cashews. It’s time to celebrate.

I glance at Candace, and she’s struggling to keep the smile from her face. That’s a good sign. She must think he’s interested, too.

Definitely a cashews moment.

“If you’re sure you want someone like me around, vertigo, fear of heights, beginning skier, then I’ll stay.” Maybe I’m pushing things. Did I have to make a list?

He touches my arm. “We’ll work it out.” Then as if he remembers his sister being there, he turns to Candace. “Won’t we, Candy?”

I’d forgotten he called her Candy. How cute is that? This guy is something else.

Candace’s mouth splits into a full-grown grin and she nods.

Before we can talk on it further, Granny’s scream slices through the air. We look toward the upper level where we hear her voice and see her inching her way backward, eyes open wide, staring at the carpet. I’m thinking the cashews will have to wait.

Mitch jumps up and races toward the stairs. My gaze locks with Candace. We both blurt “Guacamole!” and scramble up the stairs right on Mitch’s heels. We reach the second floor, and my stomach lurches. I so want my safety bubble.

“What the… How in the world… Where the—” Mitch stammers, staring at the iguana, whose tail is whipping across the floor like a broom with attitude.

Guacamole’s body is arched and his dewlap—that thing that hangs beneath his chin—is extended. He’s definitely not in a happy mood.

“I can explain everything,” Candace blabbers while keeping her gaze fixed on Guacamole. Our circle widens as though we’re making room for John Travolta’s dance scene in Saturday Night Fever.

“Come on, Guacamole, it’s all right, boy.” I bend so he can see me and edge him back toward my room.

“You know this…this…thing?” Mitch asks, his deep voice rising in pitch.

I nod without looking away from Guacamole. “Come on, baby, you can do it,” I soothe, thinking I’ll pluck out the little reptile’s scales one by one if he doesn’t get into my room this very minute. Maybe I don’t mean that, but let me say if I had a dewlap, it would pretty much resemble a full-blown balloon right about now.

I get Guacamole in the room and close the door behind him. I turn to the others and lift a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.” They stare daggers through me, as though I’ve committed a heinous crime.

Granny’s white as a ghost. Her mouth is hanging open.

Candace jumps in before anyone can say anything. “I told Gwen she could bring her, um, pet.”

“This is your pet?” I can tell Mitch is totally reevaluating his earlier opinion of me.

“Yes.” I could throttle my brother. If he had given me a poodle for my birthday, I wouldn’t be having this discussion right now.

“I need to get back outside and tend to my guests. We’ll talk about your pet later.”

I’m in trouble. I can feel it.

“Do you feel well enough to run the shop?” he asks.

“Yes.” I’m thankful that’s still an option.

Mitch looks at me a little longer than necessary. “We’ll talk tonight.” He turns and runs down the stairs before I can utter a word.

Granny gives a “harrumph,” and descends the stairs grumbling something about reptiles belonging in the wild and anyone with any sense would know that.

I look at Candace. She makes a face. “That didn’t go real well, did it?”

I shake my head.

Candace puts her arm around my shoulder as we head back to my room. “Don’t worry about it. They were both a little shocked, is all. They’ll warm to Guacamole.”

Somehow the words warm and Guacamole don’t belong in the same sentence.

“How do you suppose he got out?” Candace asks, plopping down on my bed.

I look around. “I have no idea. I’m almost sure I closed my door.” It creeps me out a little to think of how it might have happened.

Candace nods. “Well, I’d better get back to work.” She pulls herself from my bed. “The only thing you need to concentrate on is how to get up to Cool Beanz without getting sick.”

“Know a good therapist?”

She laughs then looks at me. “Do you think something in your past has caused this?”

“I’m not all that deep, so I doubt it.”

Candace doesn’t crack a smile. “Take care of yourself, Gwen.” There goes that motherly thing again.

“I will.”

She leaves me to figure it all out on my own. I notice Guacamole scoots into the bathroom where I can’t see him. Sometimes he’s so smart it scares me.

“Don’t think that because I can’t see you you’re not in trouble,” I call out. I can almost imagine his scaly mouth forming a smug little smile.

I settle onto my bed. What a day. Well, at least everything is out in the open now. Mitch knows about the vertigo, my fear of heights, Guacamole, everything.

If he doesn’t send me packing now, he never will. Oh, I like the sounds of that. I don’t allow myself the pleasure of lingering in that thought. The day’s not over yet.

I say a quick prayer for help, and decide to get back out on the ski lift. That thought alone could make me throw up, but I have to do this. I have to prove myself worthy of staying on—at the resort, not the ski lift—especially after Guacamole’s dramatic entrance. If I go back to Tumbleweed, and if Mom has her way about it, I’ll be destined to a life with Herbert Caudell. A world of beige and polyester.

Bring on Windsor Mountain.

I poke my head into the bathroom and see that Guacamole is lying on the floor, back to me, head sideways so that I can see one half of his face. His eye turns in my direction, but he stays perfectly still. He’s trying to ignore me. The little lizard.

“Don’t think you’ve heard the last from me, young man.” He turns away as though he couldn’t care less. “I don’t know how you got out of the room, but it won’t happen again.” I step into the hallway and pull my bedroom door securely closed behind me.

Once downstairs, I put my gloves and hat back on, determined to make it to the top of the mountain if it kills me.

And it just might.

The sun shines down from a perfect blue sky. Great skiing weather…I think. I don’t know anything about skiing, but I can tell it’s a nice day, after all.

I thought I could tackle the ski lift right away, but I was wrong. I wander around outside for a while, trying to work up the nerve to ride it. Merely looking up at the coffee shop makes my stomach rumble. The tune of “Climb Every Mountain” runs through my mind, and I want to bang my head against a wall.

I have to get up there. It’s important to Mitch that I get started training with Lisa. Though I don’t see why she can’t come down to the B and B and teach me. I guess that’s not practical since I can hardly serve the customers from the B and B. I guess I have to take the plunge sometime. Oh, bad choice of words.

“Mitch won’t care if you want to wait a while, Gwen. You don’t have to do this today.”

I turn to see Candace. “No use putting it off. I can’t expect Lisa to do all the work simply because I have a fear of heights. If I can’t do this, I’ll have to leave. It’s not fair to Mitch, otherwise. Besides, I need to prove to myself that I can do this.”

“You want me to go with you?”

We both stare at the moving cars on the lift.

“You don’t have to. I can do this,” I say in an effort to convince myself.

She hooks her arm through mine. “Sure, you can—with a little help from your friend.” I don’t miss the fact that she’s nudging me toward the lift, one step at a time. Some friend.

I take a deep breath.

“It will be all right, Gwen. Don’t look down. Keep your eyes focused straight ahead. I’ll be right by your side. You won’t fall. I promise.”

We’re going up for a fun ride, right? Maybe if I had a bag of cashews, it would help. At the very least, I should be chewing cinnamon gum. We step closer.

“You still okay?” Candace searches my face.

I nod and smile as best I can. I swallow hard as we step into place, awaiting our turn.

“Hold on to my arm if that helps,” she says.

I nod, not really wanting to talk right now. My bed sounds pretty good. Throw in a can of cashews, a little chocolate, and I’m good to go. That thought alone makes me feel better.

The ski lift edges closer and scoots us onboard. My heart skips a beat, and I clench my teeth. Keep focused ahead. Don’t look down.

“I know you’ve had a rotten day so far, but I have to say I admire you for trying to do this again so soon, Gwen. You’re something else.”

I know Candace is trying to make me feel all brave, but I would really love to get my feet on solid ground again. Keep focused. Keep focused. Completely ignore the fact that my feet could touch treetops. Ignore it, I say.

“I can tell my brother really likes you,” she says.

Excuse me, but could you save this conversation for the coffee shop? Somehow I think I would enjoy it more there. Keep focused.

Farther up we go. I could reach out and touch a cloud, which, of course, I won’t do. It could possibly land me in Heaven. I want to go there someday, but I was rather hoping it wouldn’t be today. Keep focused.

Emotions swirl and churn with my stomach as we inch our way up the mountain until the ski lift dumps us out at the top. My legs tremble beneath me.

Once we’re standing upright on level ground, Candace turns to me and grabs my shoulders. “You did it, Gwen! You did it!”

I look at the retreating ski lift and then back to her. “I did do it, didn’t I?” Just lump me in with the Joan of Arcs of the world. One more giant step for mankind and all that.

“I knew you could do it.” She’s bragging on me so much, I can almost hear the brass band playing as we march toward the brown building that’s labeled Cool Beanz.

We step inside and the rich smell of espresso greets us, along with the whir of the cappuccino machine.

“That’s Lisa Jamison,” Candace says, nodding toward the woman behind the counter.