Chapter 18

Micki watched as Patrick"s rental car disappeared down the winding road, the dust from its tires settling back onto the gravel. Her heart sank as the back lights of the vehicle grew smaller until they disappeared altogether. Their goodbye wasn't a passion fueled kiss. There were no tender words. She pretended it wasn't goodbye at all. That he'd return to finish his stay. But she knew the moment he'd headed for his cabin that she wouldn't see him again.

A part of her felt she should have at least told him how much she cared for him, but what would be the point except to cause her more pain either because he didn't return the sentiment or because he did.

The quiet that followed his departure felt deafening. Micki had grown so accustomed to his presence, his reserved demeanor slowly giving way to a playful side she found utterly endearing. She had anticipated more moments like that, more opportunities to peel back the layers and truly get to know him before he left.

A pang of loneliness crept up on her, the weight of the resort"s financial troubles suddenly feeling heavier without his steadying influence. Yet, Micki knew she had to remain strong, independent as always. Much like Patrick felt a duty to his family, she felt the same about the resort. It was her family"s legacy, her responsibility. She couldn"t allow herself to be consumed by the sadness of Patrick"s departure.

Plastering a smile on her face, she returned to the remaining guest. Most had left after the fireworks, but most of the cabins were full, and she needed to make sure everyone was settled. Plus, she needed to start the clean-up from the activities of the day.

"Did Dr. Andres leave?" her mother asked as Micki stacked empty used Solo cups on the table.

"Yes." Micki willed her tears to stay at bay.

"Is something wrong?"

"His father is in the hospital." Micki moved on to the deck railing where more cups were discarded.

"Will he be back."

"I don't think so." Micki tossed the cups in the recycle bag. "I'm going to clean up around the beach."

"It's nearly ten at night. That can?—"

"We don't want our guest so wake up to a mess." She didn't wait for her mother to respond. She hurried down the stairs and gathered all the cups, putting other trash in a second bag.

"Can we help?" Sydney and Mitch strolled along the beach, Brian fast asleep on Mitch's shoulder.

"No. You enjoy the night. Is your cabin alright?"

"Yes, it's lovely as usual. I went to check on Patrick, but he didn't answer?—"

"He left." Micki scanned the area looking for more trash, so she didn't have to look at Sydney.

"What? Where?"

"He got a call from his mom. His dad is in the hospital."

"Oh no." Sydney's brows drew together in concern. Micki was sure it was for Patrick's father, but a part of her felt like it was toward her as well. Did she know about her and Patrick? "I'm sure he'll be back."

Micki knew he wouldn't. "We'll see. I need to deal with this." She held the trash bags up.

"Yes. Of course."

Micki busied herself with the event clean up and then went to her room. Only then did she cry.

The next morning,Micki was doing last minute clean up around the lake when Tate came running out.

"Where's Dr. Patrick? I wanted to show him…I lost a tooth."

Micki closed her eyes, willing for strength. Then she knelt in front of Tate. "He had to go home."

Tate's brows drew together. "Where's that?"

"In New York."

"He's gone?" Tate's lips trembled.

Micki nodded, understanding the boys disappointment and pain. "Yes."

"Is he coming back?"

"I don't think so."

"He didn't say goodbye." Tears filled his eyes.

"He didn't have time."

"Why he had to leave so fast? He was supposed to stay longer and play with me more."

Micki"s heart ached, knowing all too well the pain of an abrupt goodbye. She had felt the same sense of loss when Patrick had hurried off after the phone call that ended the sweet connection they shared.

"I know," she soothed, pulling her nephew into a comforting embrace.

Tate sniffled, his small body trembling. "But why couldn"t he at least say goodbye. Didn"t he like me anymore?"

Micki brushed the tears from Tate"s cheeks. "Of course he liked you. Sometimes grown-ups have to leave in a hurry, and they don"t get the chance to say goodbye the way we"d like." She paused, searching for the right words to ease his pain. "But that doesn"t mean he didn"t care. He just... had to go." She choked back her own tears.

He pulled away, his face contorting with a mix of sadness and anger. "It"s not fair!" His hands balled into fists. "I wanted him to stay!"

His leg kicked out, nearly catching her in the thigh.

"I know you're upset. I'm sad too, but you can't kick?—"

"He's mean. I hope he never comes back."

She watched helplessly as Tate"s behavior deteriorated, his outburst escalating into a full-blown tantrum. She knew she needed to intervene, to help her nephew process this latest disappointment, but the task felt overwhelming. How could she help Tate understand when she herself was still grappling with the abrupt end caused by Patrick's departure?

Patrick would know what to do. What had he said the time Tate broke his window? Anger is a scary thing when it gets away from us, isn't it?

"I know you're mad?—"

"I hate him." Tate ran off.

Feeling deflated, Micki sank back to sit on her heels. In an instant, all of Tate's progress was gone. Logan really needed to get Tate the support he needed. Professional help that could guide him through dealing with his extreme emotions.

As if she'd summoned him, Logan appeared on the deck. "What's with Tate?"

"He's upset that Patrick left."

Logan's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Why?" Did he really ask that? "Because Patrick was his friend and he left without saying goodbye."

"First, Patrick is a grown man. It's creepy that he's friends with a seven year old. Second, friends don't leave without a goodbye."

She wanted to slug her brother. "He's psychologist, Logan, not a creep. He's why Tate has been acting better. And second, his father is sick, so he had to leave." She shook her head in disappointment.

He pursed his lips. "He shouldn't have been counseling?—"

"He wasn't!" She threw up her hands in exasperation. "He was a friend. He listened. He supported. Logan, I know this has been difficult for you, but you have to get Tate help. He'll only get worse. I can only imagine he's feeling like people in his life keep leaving."

"He'll be fine?—"

"No, Logan, I don't think he will. I'm not equipped…neither is mom or dad. And in case you haven't noticed, this place is on the edge of ruin. We can't help Tate while also trying to salvage the resort."

Logan's jaw clenched. "You said you could watch him this summer."

"We've tried. I love him, Logan. You know I do. I love you too, but something has to change."

"She's right."

Both looked up to see Lori on the deck. "Tate could benefit from more counseling or at least more structure than we can give him."

Logan sniffed, not liking what he was hearing. "Fine."

Later that night,Micki sat at her desk feeling emotionally exhausted. Patrick's departure left a hole in her chest. The argument with Logan left her feeling guilty even as she knew Tate needed more than they could give him. But that was Logan's call. Her job now was saving the resort.

Her fingers tapped across the keyboard, her mind focused on the task at hand. Diving headfirst into research, Micki scoured the internet for ideas that could breathe new life into the struggling resort. Patrick"s suggestions about corporate retreats and family reunions had piqued her interest, and she was determined to explore those avenues fully.

Micki"s creative juices flowed as she sketched out potential event packages, complete with themed activities and customizable amenities. The resort"s rustic charm and scenic lakefront setting could be the perfect backdrop for all sorts of gatherings – from team-building workshops to milestone celebrations.

With each passing hour, Micki"s confidence grew. She put together a package of information to present to her parents the next day. When she went to bed that night, her heart still ached, but she had hope for the future. Part of that hope was that overtime her pain would lessen and Patrick would become a fond memory.

The next morning after breakfast and their last guests left, Micki presented her ideas to her parents. The more she spoke, the more excited she got and sure that this was the answer to their problems.

"Just think of the possibilities. We can host corporate retreats, family reunions, even small weddings! The lake and the cabins are the perfect setting."

Her father listened intently, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I can see the potential." He glanced at her mother. There was something in the exchange.

"What?"

"I just wonder if we're the ones to pull this off."

She stared at her parents, wondering what was up. "Why wouldn't we?"

Her mother sighed. "The truth is, Micki, that your father and I feel we've put too much on you. There's an expectation that you'd carry on, but we've never talked about it. You've never had the chance to consider something else."

"I don't want to consider something else." She couldn't understand what her parents were getting at. "You know I love this place. This is what I want to do."

Her father's eyes softened. "How can you really know, sweetie?"

She gaped. "Because I know."

"You've never done anything else. You've never been anywhere else," her father said gently.

Now she was getting mad. "I don't want to do anything else or go anywhere else."

"Not even New York?" her mother asked.

"What?" Micki felt like she'd entered the Twilight Zone where everything was upside down and backwards. Nothing made sense.

"It's no secret that you have feelings for Patrick." Her mother put her hand over Micki's. "I know we started out on the wrong foot, but we?—"

"Did Tate tell you we kissed, because it was nothing." The lie tasted bitter.

"He didn't say anything," her mother said.

"He didn't have to. It was plain as day by the way you looked at each other."

Micki shook her head and pulled her presentation together. "It was just a summer thing. Now it's done. It's time to focus on Kincaid Lake."

"Micki—"

"The resort is in our blood – my blood. It"s part of who I am. And I know we can make it a success if we just put our minds to it."

"We"re proud of you, honey." Lori's eyes shone with emotion. "But your father"s right – you shouldn"t feel obligated to stay here. There"s a whole world out there waiting for you."

Micki"s heart sank as she realized the implications of her parents" words. It was almost as if they were pushing her out. "You"re not...you"re not thinking of selling the resort, are you?"

Her father"s silence was all the answer she needed.

"No." She rose from the table. "No, I won't let you."

Her parents exchanged worried glances. "We haven't decided for sure?—"

"Good. Because if I have to, I'll get a loan and buy it from you." She was certain she wouldn't qualify for a loan, but she'd try. "I'm going to clean the cabins." She left the presentation as she exited the lodge. She sucked in deep breaths. She understood how Tate felt. So much was being taken from her. She wanted to strikeout and break something too.

Micki avoided her family,distracting herself with work. She was more determined than ever to make the resort work.

But at night, lying in her bed, she felt lonely. She desperately wanted to talk to Patrick. He'd know what to say to help her navigate her feelings. He'd offer support and maybe more great ideas. But she couldn't call him with her problems when his father was in the hospital.

How was he? Her heart went out to him at having to deal with a sick parent, but also start a life in a job he didn't want. She wanted to support him as much as she wanted support from him.

She picked up her phone from the nightstand, staring down at the glowing screen, her fingers trembling slightly as she composed a text message. She should resist the urge to reach out to Patrick, knowing that putting distance between them was the wisest course of action. But as the hours…the days… ticked by, the need to know he was alright had become too strong to ignore.

Her thumb hovered over the "send" button, a mix of hope and dread swirling within her. What if he didn"t respond? What if he did, and the conversation only served to remind her of what she couldn"t have? Steeling herself, Micki took a deep breath and pressed the button, sending the message into the ether.

Just thinking about you and hoping you're okay.

The seconds felt like an eternity as Micki waited, her heart pounding in her ears. When the familiar chime of an incoming message finally sounded, she nearly jumped, her fingers fumbling to unlock the screen.

I'm okay, all things considered. Thanks for checking in.

She studied the text,trying to decipher the tone. Was it brief because he didn't want to talk to her? Was he in the middle of something?

She was trying to decide if she should respond, when her phone chimed with a text again.

I was thinking of you too.

Micki felt a wave of relief wash over her, followed by a pang of longing. She missed the sound of his voice, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the gentle touch of his hand on her skin.

If there's something I can do, let me know.

There was another long pause.

Look up at the stars. I can't see them anymore.

The message brought a mix of joy and sorrow. Oh, how she wished he was here. She pictured them lying on the dock watching the stars. For a moment she allowed her self to imagine a world where distance and circumstances didn"t keep them apart. In that fantasy, she could reach out and touch him, feel the warmth of his embrace, lose herself in the depths of his gaze. But the moment passed, and she was left with the bitter reality of their situation.

But that didn't stop her from reaching out the next night. Or the night after. Each message brought a flood of memories – the feel of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his gaze, the way his lips had felt against hers. Micki ached to be near him, to recapture that sense of connection they had shared.

Perhaps she wasa sadist as she knew the contact only served to keep the wound in her heart open. She had her life here and Patrick had his own battles to fight, his own future to sort out.