office, writing the schedules for everyone, finalizing The Feeder menu, keeping up with the boats—fuel, tune-ups, oil, regular upkeep. That sort of thing. He’s also in charge of making sure the guests are happy…so if you have a complaint, feel free to let him know. But on the flip side, if you’re really happy with something, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”
I shook my head in amusement while laughing under my breath.
He’d mentioned that his dad worked in the office, but the guy who had checked me in this morning couldn’t have possibly been his dad. He couldn’t have been anyone’s parent. Well, unless it was possible to father a child while still in diapers. Drew did say that they had employees, so I assumed it was one of them and moved on.
“At least you guys seem to be doing well for yourselves.”
“Not really. Sure, the tours are full, the cabins are booked solid, and the restaurant and bar never slow during this one week of the year. But after this weekend, it won’t be like this again until the next Fourth of July.”
I became thoroughly invested in this conversation, as though the success of this resort somehow affected me. Either that or I was simply baffled by the news that they weren’t this busy every week. I simply couldn’t imagine that. “Why is it so slow the rest of the year?”
“Just is. People ’round here don’t care about the lake’s conception or the history buried beneath it. They only come for the festivals and celebration of Independence Day, so this is the only week that people flock to us. Any other time, they stay for the day or come for dinner.”
“It’s always been this way?” I couldn’t imagine how a resort could survive like this.
“Pretty much, which is why most of the tasks fall on us—well, mostly me.”
I picked at the soggy label on my bottle, not knowing what to say. Finally, unable to deal with the silence much longer, I shrugged and whispered, “It just seems like a lot to put on one person.”
“It was a lot easier when my grandmother ran things. She had my dad do all the manual labor while she took care of everything else—housekeeping, paperwork, taxes, et cetera. When I was younger, I would do little odd jobs here and there to help out, but once I got older, I started taking over a lot of my grandma’s responsibilities. And now, after my dad’s heart attack, I’ve had to do even more. But for the most part, we have our own duties, and it works out well for us.”
“Your grandmother works here, too?”
His hooded eyes held me captive, and the way he looked at me made me wonder if he could read my thoughts. There was a glint in them that I couldn’t ignore, convincing me that he understood me on a level no one else ever had. “Not anymore…she died three years ago, two months before my dad’s heart attack.”
I wanted to say something, but the only words I could think of were I’m sorry, and I believed in reserving that for recent losses. Offering someone—especially someone you barely knew—condolences for something that happened years ago felt more like a cowardly copout than genuine compassion to me. However, it didn’t make the desire to offer him my sympathies go away. Instead, I took a swig of my wine cooler and asked, “I take it this resort is family-owned?”
“Yeah, my grandma opened it right after the reservoir was created. It began as just a simple bed and breakfast on the side of the mountain, which is now the main house on the property. That’s where we keep the artifacts and history of Chogan. My grandma actually lived upstairs until the day she died, and it’s also where my dad grew up. He didn’t move out until he and my mom built their own place.”
“Your mom runs the resort, too?”
He stared off across the room and hesitated for a moment before answering, making me regret my question. “No. She left a long time ago. She didn’t want to live her life day in and day out at the resort, so she left. I was six. I don’t remember too much of it other than their fights when she’d come to see me…then she started canceling trips. And by the time I turned thirteen, she just stopped visiting altogether.”
I covered his hand with mine on the cushion between us in an involuntary attempt to