Freeing Reese (Tremont Lodge Series Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

years, city officials had decided to grant the Bridgman Café owners the permission to extend their operating license into the off-season, and from the look of all the cars in the parking lot, there are many people other than my brother who seek solace in the view here. The water that isn’t frozen is being whipped by the wind in the waves in a frothy frenzy of nerves, lapping against the old intake that pretties up the beach with a mural of Weko Beach painted by a local artist. When Blake and I were little, my grandparents had a tradition of taking Blake’s picture next to the intake to show how much he grew from year to year. I never questioned why they didn’t want to take similar pictures of me—perhaps since I’m no blood relation they don’t give a damn. Of course that all makes sense now, but to a little kid, you can’t help but notice when favorites are being played. At least Blake reaped the reward for my shunning. I’d be the sacrificial lamb for him if I had to. He’s an innocent victim.
    Blake is sitting in a corner of the room closest to the fake fireplace that puts off a light glow in the dimly lit room, a cloudy day filtering the sun from shining in the floor to ceiling windows. I stop Finn at the door. “Hey, do you mind grabbing a couple of hot chocolates for us and hanging out at the counter for a few minutes before bringing them over? I want to talk to Blake alone first.”
    “No problem, Reese. Take as much time as you need.”
    If Blake senses me standing behind his chair, he doesn’t acknowledge me. “Hi, Blake,” I say. He doesn’t turn around. “Look, I’m sure you’re confused by all that…stuff at the farm. I never wanted you to find out…”
    Blake’s face is red from crying when he turns around, tears still dried to his cheeks. He looks like a little boy trapped in a grown man’s body, and it breaks my heart. “How long have you known—all that stuff about our mother and father, or your father or whatever it all means?”
    “I learned a lot this summer at the lodge.”
    “What does the lodge have to do with anything?”
    I sigh. “It’s really a very long, complicated story.”
    “I have the time.” He motions for me to sit down next to him, and I wave Finn back to the table.
     
    I am exhausted after I am done talking. Speaking our story aloud in all its grim truth is almost as painful as learning it all the first time. It’s like putting a nail in a coffin, making it all the more real. Blake nods his head a lot and listens, rarely stopping me to ask questions. “So, tell me something, Blake,” I say when I’ve told him everything I know. “You never wondered why our grandparents were raising us?”
    Blake runs his hand through his hair and tucks a lock behind his ear in a cool surfer dude move. “To tell you the truth, I never knew it was weird to not have parents. When we had to make Mother’s Day cards in school, I always had a teacher whispering in my ear to make a nice card for Grandma, or when the boys on my Little League baseball team had their dads coaching, I’d see Grandpa standing by the fence, willing to shag balls if more help was needed. I never felt like I was missing anything. Grandpa and Grandma were Mom and Dad. It worked because they gave me everything I needed. I had no idea why you didn’t appreciate that—if I’m being completely honest.”
    “I never felt like they filled the roles of a mom and dad. I didn’t understand until recently how much they resented me for taking their son away.”
    “So, this guy that you thought was your father—he’s really my dad?”
    “He is, Blake.”
    “And he’s alive and doesn’t want anything to do with me?” He looks like he might cry again.
    “I don’t think that’s true at all, Blake. I think he felt the same way you did—that you didn’t miss anything with our grandparents filling that parental role—so why rock the boat, you know?”
    “Or risk getting arrested for murder,” he