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“The back door.”
“Thanks, Daph.” Gina brushed by Blake adding, “Put the food down, Blake, and come help me.”
“Okay,” he said, hurrying after her as she broke into a jog when she entered the kitchen.
“Mom,” Gina called.
Blake paused to look at the little girl. “Where can I put this?”
“The kitchen is a mess,” she said. “I’ll take it to the sunroom.” She took the bag, her arm muscles straining against the multiple meals Blake had brought.
“Thanks,” he said, entering the kitchen. He paused again, because it looked like a bomb had gone off. Two buckets sat on the floor; the kitchen sink overflowed with Tupperware and dishes; the table was covered with canned and boxed goods. Every cupboard door stood open, and they’d all been emptied.
Blake couldn’t believe this was what Gina had been doing after work at the lodge. Pure exhaustion moved through him at the thought. An additional dose of guilt hit him hard, making swallowing difficult, and as she called for her mom again, Blake got himself moving toward the back door.
Outside, Gina had her arm linked through her mother’s, and she was trying to turn her around. Blake went down the wooden steps from the small back porch, the whole structure swaying. No wonder Gina didn’t want her mom leaving through the back door.
The sunroom sat to his right, and Gina’s dad called, “Sarah, come get dinner.”
Blake went across the lumpy lawn and arrived at Sarah’s side, exactly like her little dog did. He met Gina’s eyes, and she looked one breath away from crying. “Come with me, Sarah,” he said. “I brought tacos.”
Sarah Barlow looked at him, and her face lit up. “Blake Stewart,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I know,” he said easily, though she’d literally seen him two minutes ago. “I brought your favorite—grilled chicken tacos. Aren’t you hungry?” Gina dropped her mom’s arm as Blake took over. He walked her in a wide arch while Gina stood in the same spot, her face hard and unyielding.
Blake kept talking to Sarah, telling her all about the new things at the lodge. He probably could’ve told her about the old things and she wouldn’t have known. He took her to the steps leading from the sunroom, which didn’t shake and wobble as they climbed them together.
“What’s your dog’s name?” he asked.
“Fox,” she said, clear as anything.
“Thank you, Blake,” Gina’s dad said, smiling at him when they went inside the screened sunroom. “Look, Sarah. Blake brought dinner. Isn’t that great?”
“It looks wonderful,” Sarah said, allowing Blake to help her into a chair at the white metal table. “Daphne, dear, can you get the lemonade out of the fridge?”
“It’s right here, Grandma,” Daphne said, indicating the glass pitcher of pink lemonade in the middle of the table. She pulled out the last container of food and popped the lid. “This one is a burrito.”
“That one’s for Gina,” Blake said. He looked through the screens and found her walking away from the house at a pace he’d have to run to catch up with. He didn’t know what to do. Go after her? Sit down and eat with her family?
He hadn’t known Daphne was here, and he’d brought four meals. Ben, Gina’s father, put the container of tacos, refried beans, and Spanish rice in front of his wife. “This one’s for you, dear.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“I got the burrito for Gina,” Blake said. “Anything else is fair game.”
“Thank you,” Ben said with another wide smile as he took a container with shredded beef tacos. “Are the nachos okay for you, Daphne?”
“Yeah, I love nachos,” Daphne said. She smiled at her grandfather and then Blake. “Thank you, Blake. This is real nice.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling back a her. She belonged to Ella, and Blake was glad he’d been able to help this family tonight. He looked back outside, and Gina had disappeared somewhere. “I’ll take this out to Gina.” He picked up the burrito, a set of plastic silverware, and a napkin. “We’ll be right back.”
“I’ll make coffee,” her mom said, and Blake didn’t wait around to hear who would tell her that she couldn’t make coffee because Gina was cleaning the pot. He left and went in search of Gina, praying he could find her quickly.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Gina stomped through the weeds growing along the property’s edge. The Allens behind her parents’ house owned a small farm, but they hadn’t kept it up for years. If she just kept moving, she wouldn’t start crying. She wondered if she could walk and walk and walk until she simply collapsed from exhaustion.
She’d rather do that than go back to her parents’ house and face the situation there. For the first week or two, she’d simply sat with her mom and listened to her talk as she knitted. She’d make dinner or bring a cake, and they’d sit in the sunroom. She’d tell them about her day and all the guests who came through the lodge, and she’d do the dishes.
