Lakewood Lodge: Chapter 1

On a Saturday afternoon in early autumn, Christine wandered into the kitchen at Lakewood Lodge to find something to eat. At fifteen, she was tall and lanky, with freckles scattered across her cheeks and plain brown hair that reached below her shoulders. A hint of green colored her eyes, and her sweet face concealed the fact that she could be incredibly stubborn.

As she stepped through the swinging doors, she breathed deeply, enjoying the yeasty smell of the dinner rolls Scott had just removed from the oven. The buttery delicacies on the cooling rack invited her to help herself, but as she extended her hand, she heard her mother’s weary voice from the pantry.

“It’s soup, Scott. It’s not a big deal.”

“I would ordinarily agree with you, but it’s the most popular thing on the menu,” said Scott, sounding gruffer than usual. “If we get rid of it, the regulars will complain.”

“If you’re talking about the three old ladies who visit every Sunday after church, I’m pretty sure they’ll complain no matter what we do,” said Christine’s mother.

A twinge of sympathy stung Christine’s heart. Forgetting about the dinner rolls, she tiptoed closer to the pantry to hear the conversation more clearly.

“I’ll cover it,” said Scott. “You can pay me back later.”

“No, you’re already doing too much,” said Christine’s mother, her voice rising. “You still haven’t charged me for all the extra hours you worked last month.”

“I like helping out,” he said. “We’ve got to have the soup. It’s your favorite. There’s nothing expensive about it except the mushrooms.”

“Scott, I can’t afford them!” said Christine’s mother. A crash from the pantry sent Christine’s heart into her throat. Above the sound of cans rolling across the floor, she heard quiet sniffling.

“Everything will be okay,” said Scott. “We’re just going through a rough patch right now.”

“It’s been more than a year,” said Christine’s mother. “I was sure I’d get the hang of it by now, but I’m starting to think I made a terrible mistake, trying to run this place myself. If I’d sold the lodge right after Bob died—”

Her voice faded into silence. Christine’s eyes prickled with tears at the sound of her father’s name. She still thought about him every day, and although the shock of losing him had faded, the pain was almost as excruciating as ever.

“Don’t doubt yourself,” said Scott. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to give up.”

“I’m just trying to keep his dream alive and take care of Christine,” said her mother. “Why is it so difficult?”

“Come here,” he said. “I don’t have the answers, but at least I can give you a shoulder to lean on.”

Christine crept out of the kitchen and sat down in one of the saggy leather chairs in the lobby. It was a cozy place, with gnarled log walls that produced a piney fragrance and large windows that overlooked the lake behind the lodge. A massive stone fireplace occupied one side of the room, and an upright piano filled a nook in the corner. Deer heads hung on the walls, and a large rug with an intricate pattern made of geometric shapes covered the floor.

Despite the pleasant atmosphere of the lobby, its emptiness made Christine feel melancholy. She gazed out the window. The lake glittered in the afternoon sun, its water mirroring the vibrant blue of the sky. From her vantage point, she could see a few of the guests strolling along the pier that jutted out forty feet toward the center of the lake. She thought about the hours she had spent there with her father, and her throat tightened.

“Christine?” said her mother.

She turned quickly, forcing herself to smile. Her mother returned the gesture, but her eyes remained solemn. Christine longed to see her happy again, but her demeanor had been different ever since she had taken responsibility for the lodge. Even her appearance had changed; hints of gray accented her brown hair, and she had replaced her bright wardrobe with plain business attire.

“Hi, Mom,” said Christine. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner,” said her mother. “Scott wants to make potato soup instead of mushroom soup for a change, so I’m getting him the ingredients he needs. Will you watch the front desk while I’m gone?”

“Merlin is coming over to visit in about an hour,” said Christine.

“I won’t be gone that long,” said her mother.

She kissed Christine on the head and vanished out the front door. Christine trudged through the lobby, slipped into the chair behind the desk, and began playing with her cell phone. She was watching kitten videos when she heard the door open.

She glanced up, expecting to see one of the guests returning from an excursion, but it was a man she didn’t recognize. He carried several large pieces of luggage. Christine was alarmed. Check-in time had already come and gone; otherwise, her mother wouldn’t have left her there alone.

She flipped through the check-in book with trembling hands. Sure enough, one of the guests was late. She looked at the name her mother had penciled in; it was Mr. Morris.

He approached the desk and rested his elbows on the counter. He was a sturdy man with broad shoulders, a passionate face, and bushy black hair. Christine guessed he was in his late thirties, although he could have been older. Unlike the typical customers at the lodge, he wore fancy clothes.

He smiled at Christine.

“Hello,” he said in a pleasant voice. “I have a reservation.”

Christine had checked guests in before, but only when her mother had been around to help. She considered asking him to wait in the lobby, but she didn’t want to be rude, so she smiled back at him and tried to sound more confident than she felt.

“Mr. Morris?” she said.

“That’s me,” he said. “I hope you haven’t cancelled my room, but if you have, it’s my own fault for getting here so late. I meant to arrive this morning, but I got lost. I’ve never been to Lakewood before. In fact, this is my first time in the Ozark Mountains. I’ve heard there are some spectacular caves not far from here.”

“Waterfall Caverns is a mile down the road in the state park,” said Christine.

“Ah, yes, I saw the advertisements while I was driving up,” he said. “Have you ever visited?”

“A few times,” said Christine. “It’s nice. If you go back far enough, there’s a pool with perfectly clear water. The waterfall only shows up when it rains enough.”

She handed him a brochure.

“This says there are miles of unexplored passages,” he said. “Good thing I’m not the curious type! I’d get into lots of trouble. I’m excited to acquaint myself with this charming little town, though. It’s a lovely place: tranquil and secluded and private. Exactly what I need to finish my book.”

“You’re reading a book?” said Christine.

“No, I’m writing one,” he said. “I’ve been developing the plot for almost two years, so it must be good, or at least that’s what I tell myself! I haven’t actually put pen to paper yet, but I’m planning to hash it out over the next couple of months. You may have noticed that my reservation is rather long. I’m broke, so I was delighted to get such a good deal.”

Irritation flooded Christine’s heart. Her mother had an awful habit of giving discounts to guests she suspected couldn’t afford the full price, fearing they would take their business elsewhere if she didn’t offer them a bargain. She reminded herself to chastise her as soon as she got the chance, recorded Mr. Morris’ information, and found the key to his room, which was on the second floor to the left of the gable over the entrance.

“When I arrived, I noticed a lovely window under the roof’s peak,” he said, hesitating as Christine held out the key. “That room wouldn’t happen to be available, would it?”

“There aren’t any guests on the third floor,” said Christine.

“Are you sure?” he said, staring at her until she averted her gaze. “I thought I saw a light shining through the curtains.”

“I live up there with my mother,” said Christine.

His eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

“Why?” he said.

Christine hated being trapped by his inquisition.

“My mother owns this place,” she said. “It seemed practical for us to live here since we’re here all the time anyway.”

“And I bet it’s cheap,” he said, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper. “I’m not judging you, but it sounds dangerous with so many strangers around. I hope you keep your doors locked at night.”

“We’re always careful,” said Christine. She couldn’t bear to look at him. “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” said Mr. Morris. He picked up the key and paused. “Oh, there’s something else I should probably mention. I don’t want anyone going into my room during my stay. It’s silly, but I get nervous when people get into my business. I need my creative nook set up just so, or I can’t work. I’ll put my dirty linens in the hall, and I’ll take out my own garbage.”

“Are you sure?” said Christine. If he wanted complete control over his environment, why would he stay at the lodge? Her confusion must have revealed itself on her face. His smile disappeared.

“I addressed the issue when I made my reservation,” he said. “The woman I spoke to, who I assume was your mother, promised me it wouldn’t be a problem, but if that’s not the case, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” said Christine. If he complained to her mother, he would probably be allowed to stay for free, which would be intolerable. “I didn’t realize you had already talked to her. I’m sure it will be fine if she was okay with it.”

“Perfect,” he said. “You haven’t offended me, by the way. It’s not your fault your mother didn’t warn you about me. Excuse me for saying this, but you’re very young to be working here. I’m not criticizing; I’m just making an observation. I guess there are worse places a pretty girl like you could be working, though. Ah, well, that’s the way of the world, isn’t it? It’s full of people who would be delighted to take advantage of you.”

Christine blushed with embarrassment and immediately hated herself for it. What exactly was Mr. Morris trying to imply? The more she wondered about it, the worse she felt. She wanted to change the subject, but her mind was blank. His inquisitive eyes clung to her, refusing to let her go.

“I don’t work here regularly,” she said. “I’m just filling in for my mother.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous. You’re obviously a smart girl, and you did such a good job checking me in! Do you have a comment card? I would love to put in a good word for you.”

“There should be a comment card in your room,” said Christine.

“Spectacular,” he said. “Would you mind showing me where it is? I’m terrible with directions.”

“I can’t,” said Christine, who wouldn’t have budged from her seat if he had offered her a million dollars. “I’ll get into trouble if I don’t stay here. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “No problem. I’ll see you around later. Is the restaurant open for dinner?”

Christine confirmed that it was, and Mr. Morris sauntered away. After he disappeared, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. At the same time, she felt unsettled, and she couldn’t relax. She eventually realized she was angry, but she didn’t know why. She turned her attention back to her phone, but the unpleasant atmosphere remained. Even after her mother returned from the grocery store and relieved her of her post, she was reluctant to go upstairs.

“Did anything happen while I was gone?” said her mother.

“No,” said Christine. “Mr. Morris checked in; that’s all.”

“That’s a relief,” said her mother. “I was afraid he wasn’t going to show up, and I’ve been counting on him to get us out of our current predicament. He’s paying us a small fortune for the next few months. It should be enough for us to pay the bills and celebrate the holidays properly this year.”

“But it’s not as much as we would have made from regular guests staying in those rooms for a few days at a time,” said Christine, who didn’t want to celebrate anything without her father. “Why aren’t we charging him the usual rate?”

“Because he’s a long-term guest,” said her mother, looking peeved like she always did whenever Christine questioned her about money. “It would have cost him over seven thousand dollars to stay here for so long if I hadn’t given him a discount, and that’s too much. I think he’s paying more than enough. Christine, look at it this way: we never would have had the room booked so many days if it hadn’t been for him.”

“Did you really tell him no one would go into his room the whole time he’s here?” said Christine.

“Why yes, I did,” said her mother. “It’s a bit strange, but it’s nothing we can’t accommodate. You have to be flexible in a business like this if you want a good reputation.”

“But what do you think he’s doing in there that he doesn’t want us to know about?” said Christine.

For the first time since her return, her mother actually gave Christine her full attention. Christine saw the frown on her face and regretted questioning her.

“He mentioned something about writing a book,” said her mother. “Christine, why are you acting so jumpy about this? I’m sorry I had to interrupt your Saturday, but I was only gone a few minutes. I hope you weren’t rude to Mr. Morris. Do you need to go outside for a while to clear your head?”

Christine knew there was no point in trying to talk sense into her, so she apologized and hurried away before she could get into trouble. She couldn’t reach her room without risking an encounter with Mr. Morris, so she returned to the lobby to wait for Merlin. He had been her best friend since the moment they had met in first grade, and she couldn’t wait to confide in him.

His real name wasn’t Merlin, of course. He had received the nickname during an overview of British literature in eighth grade because of his penchant for giving unsolicited advice, but the implication that he was a stuffy know-it-all wasn’t lost on anyone. Fortunately, he had accepted the insult with such grace that everyone had quickly forgotten its derogatory origin.

Merlin wasn’t the most popular kid at school, but he didn’t seem to care. That was why Christine liked him. He was a foot shorter than her, and he had a sturdy build, pale hair that curled when the humidity was high, and blue eyes that peered out from behind thick glasses. He liked to button up his shirts all the way to the neck. His dream was to become an investigative journalist, and he enjoyed nothing more than snooping around in pursuit of a good story.

As soon as Merlin walked through the door, Christine grabbed his arm and took him through the lobby, across the porch, and down the steps that led to a path among the bushes and ultimately to the shore of the lake. They arrived at the pier and sat down at the end, dangling their legs over the water.

“You sure seemed eager to get out of there,” said Merlin.

“I almost had a fight with my mom,” said Christine. She told him what had happened, starting with her mother and Scott arguing about the menu and ending with her mother’s dismissal of her qualms about Mr. Morris.

“Sounds about right,” he said. “Your mom is stressed, so she took it out on you.”

“I think she was just frustrated,” said Christine.

“Sure, but it wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“I just wish she would be consistent,” said Christine. “If she wants to treat me like a child, that’s fine, but she shouldn’t expect me to deal with weird people like Mr. Morris.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to keep an eye on him,” said Merlin. “Speaking of unrealistic expectations, my dad has totally lost his mind now that football season is starting soon, and my mom is out of town, so he’s even grouchier than usual.”

“What did he do?” said Christine.

“When I asked him to drive me here, he got snarky because Nick was about to leave for football practice, and he said I should go, too,” said Merlin. “I reminded him I’m not on the team, so he made a snide remark that I could be if I stopped lying around. Nick got mad at him and said he would drop me off.”

Christine was surprised. Merlin didn’t usually complain about his family. It was true that his older brother Nick was the pride of Lakewood, but he was so friendly that nobody resented him for it, except several of his less-fortunate classmates who envied his popularity. As for Merlin’s father, he was a police officer with a reputation for being cynical but fair. He had always been pleasant when Christine had visited Merlin’s house.

“I wonder why he would go after you like that,” she said.

“He had a difficult morning,” said Merlin. “This woman randomly showed up at our house during breakfast. Her hair was ratty, and her clothes looked like they came out of a dumpster. She had a little girl with her. There was a man, too, and a boy about our age. The woman started wailing about how they needed a place to stay and how the Lakewood police department had ruined their lives, but my dad told them to get lost.”

“They were homeless?” said Christine.

“No, apparently they were living out of their car, which is probably just as bad,” said Merlin.

Christine considered the empty rooms in the lodge and knew her mother wouldn’t have turned the family away.

“I wonder how she knew your dad,” she said.

“I’ve got no idea,” said Merlin. “He deals with all sorts of strange characters. My best guess is that he arrested her for something, and she’s still mad at him.”

Christine and Merlin spent the afternoon together at the lake, and when Nick finally called and said he would be there soon to collect Merlin, they went back into the lobby. Christine glanced toward the front desk, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw who was standing there. The leader of the group was a scrawny woman with tangled blond hair. She wore a baggy purple t-shirt and a pair of stained jeans that were too big for her.

“Bless you,” said the woman to Christine’s mother. “You’ve given me hope again. It’s been over a month since we were evicted, and my children deserve better. If it weren’t for your kindness, I don’t know what we would do.”

Aghast, Christine faced Merlin.

“That’s them, no question about it,” he said.

“I can’t let this happen,” said Christine. “My mother doesn’t know what’s good for her. She’s practically giving the rooms away for free. This whole place is going under, and that’s not what my father would have wanted.”

“Is it really that bad?” said Merlin.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t closed it down already,” said Christine. “We don’t even have a housekeeper anymore. She quit last week because her salary was too low. Doesn’t my mother realize she’s ruining everything?”

“Maybe they won’t stay very long,” said Merlin.

Christine was too discouraged to reply, so she turned her attention back to the group. The woman’s companions were at least as bedraggled as she was. The little girl was positively grimy. She had blond hair like the woman, and her bony shoulders stuck out beneath her stained pink shirt. Christine guessed she was ten years old, but she could have been younger.

The teenage boy who accompanied them had a dark complexion and an indifferent face. Christine got the impression that he had been humiliated so many times that he didn’t care anymore. He was taller than Merlin, but he was thinner. His black hair hung down in front of his eyes, casting a shadow over his other features.

The man in the background was short and stout. He had the most forgettable face Christine had ever seen. His only defining characteristic was that he kept dabbing the sweat off his bald head with a dirty handkerchief.

“This can’t be real,” said Christine.

Her mother beckoned to her, and she approached reluctantly. Her head was still spinning when she came face to face with the strangers: face to face, but not eye to eye. The woman was the only member of the group who looked at her.

“Christine, this is Tammy,” said her mother. “She and her family are going to be staying here for a while.” She gestured at the little girl and the teenage boy. “I’d like you to meet Sarah and Nathan. Would you take them into the restaurant for some food? They haven’t eaten anything today.”

“Okay,” said Christine, despite her bewilderment. The food at the lodge wasn’t free, but she knew Tammy couldn’t pay. She realized her mother was planning to absorb the cost. Panic clawed at her mind as she tried not to think about the consequences.

“I’ll come with you,” said Merlin.

Christine had never been more grateful to Merlin. While she took a deep breath to steady herself, Tammy knelt down and disentangled the little girl’s hand from her own.

“Sarah, go with Nathan,” she said. “Nathan, make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.”

He nodded, but his face didn’t change. Christine thought she had never seen a more robotic human.

“The kitchen is right down the hall,” she said.

She led the way. Merlin fell into step beside her, and Nathan and Sarah followed behind. Christine was too baffled by the events of the afternoon to know what to think, but between the peculiar arrivals of Mr. Morris and Tammy’s family, she knew the future was going to be anything but ordinary.

***

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I invite you to pre-order Lakewood Lodge if you would like to read the rest of the story. My goal was to write a heartwarming contemporary mystery with relatable characters and a fast-paced plot, and I’m excited to share the finished product with you! Lakewood Lodge was released on July 12th. Take care, and happy reading!

Marian