“We’re short-staffed at the Lodge. I could ask if they’d let you on in housekeeping. It’s not the greatest job, but the place is practically empty.”
“Yars!” Sitting up fast, I dive into a hug. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had! Could you?”
“I’m your very best friend, and of course I can. It’s like the Wild West these days, anything goes. I’ll vouch for you.”
Sitting beside her, I lean my head on her shoulder. “Do you think it’s because of my mom?”
“What?” She picks up the remote and starts cycling through Netflix.
“The reason I can’t seem to hold onto a guy?”
Slapping the remote beside her on the couch, she shifts to face me. “Nothing is wrong with you, Hope Eternal Hill. You dated a self-righteous zealot—”
“Scout said Wade was probably gay.”
Yarnell tilts her head to the side. “That actually makes sense. His parents were super religious and controlling, and he was doing his best to be exactly like them.”
“He was cute, though.”
Shaking her head, her stern tone returns. “You dated a self-righteous zealot who was possibly closeted, and now you’ve spent a week with an ex-con. How does any of that add up to something is wrong with you?”
I think about what she’s saying. “So the problem is my picker? JR is so hot, though. You should see him. Rough, angry, and that bod…”
I can’t help a shiver, remembering his lined torso, the tattoo on his chest. This much is true… He has the hottest body, and he has such a good heart behind that grumpy exterior.
“He’s good, Yars. I know he is.”
“Of course, you do!” Placing her hands on my arms, she gives me a little shake. “You’re a believer. You only see the best in people. It makes you the best kind of person, but it also makes you susceptible to the wrong kind of guy. That is not a flaw. You have to be more careful. Don’t let your hormones get the best of you.”
She scoots around again, putting her back against the sofa and retrieving the remote. I return to cuddle at her side, watching a collection of aspiring British bakers doing their best to roll cake.
Memories of JR and Jesse flood my mind, the way they hugged each other like they were making up for all those lost days. Not everybody gets a dad who’ll do anything for them, one who is so in love with you, he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re happy. I have one. JR is one.
A hot tear hits my cheek, and I swallow the thickness in my throat. “He isn’t the wrong kind of guy.”
“How do you know?” Her voice is flat, disbelieving.
“I know.”
“I know you’re going to work with me in the morning, so get some sleep. Sonny will hire you on the spot if I tell him to.”
“Because you’re a boss bitch.”
“Yes, I am.” She leans down to give me a hug, and I hug her tight.
“Thanks, bitch.”
“Now let that shit go and don’t make me kick your ass.”
Warmth comforts the ache in my chest. “I won’t.”
The Half Moon Bay Lodge is like that resort in Dirty Dancing. The main hotel is in the center of the property with twenty-four rooms spreading out in two stories on each side. Then smaller cottages branch out into the hills.
Housekeeping is a team of six—one laundry assistant, one supervisor, who doesn’t seem to do much besides eat chips and watch TikTok, and the rest of us who clean the rooms.
Two weeks later, and I still kind of suck at this job. It’s not that I don’t clean well, it’s more I take a really long time… I just don’t care.
Standing in the middle of the narrow, two-bedroom suite, I watch Rubí Perez doing her best to get out of the poverty of her university life on Netflix. It’s in Spanish, so I miss a lot of the story when I look away from the subtitles. Still, everyone is so beautiful and earnest.
Lifting my phone, I touch the number for Dad.
“Hey, sunshine!” His voice always helps me forget my worries.
“Hey, Dad! When am I ever going to see you again? I’ve forgotten what you look like.”
Walking around the brown and gold room, I pull the thick white sheets off the mattresses. I always hated making beds. How is it possible I’ve landed a job where I do something I hate more than anything?
I should be in charge of laundry. I could sit and watch Rubí and switch loads in and out for days.
“My hair’s a little longer these days, but isn’t everybody’s?” My dad’s jovial voice is so good to hear.
“Longer?” My dad is sort of a mix of Sam Elliot and Keith Carridine, and I imagine him as Road House meets Deadwood.
Shaking away the distraction, I press on. “When can you come home?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he hedges. “I thought you were staying with Yarnell until things got back to normal.
“I am, but I miss you, Dad.” Sitting on the foot of the king-sized bed, I switch the show to Schitt’s Creek, so I don’t have to read.
“I miss you too, sunshine…”
I feel like he’s not telling me something. “How are your knees?”
“A lot better. I’ve started taking a yoga class, and you wouldn’t believe the benefits. It improves respiration, which right now is major, and it relieves anxiety…”
My eyes narrow. “Dad, you’re a Buddhist. You already beat anxiety.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. I mean, with all the decreased social interactions. Do you know how important physical touch is to mental wellness?”
Oh, trust me. I know. I struggle with the memories of JR’s hands on my breasts, his lips between my thighs. Focus, Hope.
“So you’re able to do yoga with bad knees?”
“Well, I can’t do all the poses. I’m mostly doing it for the meditation. It’s very calming.”
“You’re always very calm.” It would be impossible for me to be more suspicious.
“Now I’m even more so. The instructor is very good…”
Bingo.
“Dad? Are you sleeping with your yoga instructor?”
I won’t lie. A week ago, I might have been weirded out by this, but after all we went through on the road, learning about JR’s dad, and finding Grandma Alice’s vibrator, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that would surprise me now.
“Hope Hill, I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Are you?” I’m not convinced.
“Of course not. She’s probably ten years younger than me.”
“You’re only fifty-five dad. It’s okay if you are.”
“I’ve got to go. They’re ringing the bell for small group time.”
He’s trying to get rid of me. I’m pretty sure Shady Rest isn’t that worried about whether or not their temporary residents show up for group.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too, daughter.”
We disconnect, and I study my phone. My mind drifts to JR. I remember waking up in the back of Metallicar, and sitting up to see the angriest, sexiest man alive driving us south to Los Angeles.