Page 31 of The Inn Dilemma

I’m not sure where these so-called “great kids” hang out. Every time I’ve walked into town with Aunt Birdie or Uncle Walt, I’ve only seen adults who eye me warily. As if they know my history—or worse, my dad’s history. Neither Uncle Walt or Aunt Birdie have told me much about what my dad was like growing up, but during a few drunken nights, Dad told me all about his teenage rebellion. I took it as a lesson in who to avoid turning into. Especially since his offenses are still muttered under the breaths of the townspeople.

My line takes off, and I have to hold the rod tight before trying to reel in whatever my hook caught. I plantmy feet firmly and use what strength I can manage to pull back on my rod.

“It looks like a big one!” Uncle Walt shouts before grabbing the net.

I go head to head with this fish for a solid fifteen minutes before it finally breaks the surface and I catch sight of the huge rainbow trout.

With expert precision, Uncle Walt nets the fish. When he pulls it into the boat, he makes me unhook my line and I wrinkle my nose at what I have to do next.

“Birdie will be thrilled. She loves rainbow trout. This will feed us and a few of the guests tonight for dinner.”

I can’t hold back my smile when Uncle Walt takes a picture of me with my first fish. All thoughts of my life before Rocosa temporarily fade away as we continue catching fish after fish.

We return the ones that are too small and prep the others for dinner. After I put the last trout in the cooler, Uncle Walter pats my shoulder and says, “Nice work today. I’m proud of you.”

It’s a phrase I rarely heard from my dad. My chest fills with pride. “Thanks,” I mumble before latching the cooler’s lid.

As we drive past the inn’s small parking lot, I notice a shiny Mercedes parked right beside the sidewalk.

Uncle Walt must notice too because he says, “Well, this is unexpected…”

I want to ask him, “What’s unexpected?’” but I figure I’ll find out soon enough.

After pulling his beater truck into the garage, I help him lift the cooler out of the bed and we carry it into the back entrance of the house.

Aunt Birdie and a woman I’ve never seen before aresitting on the chairs at the kitchen island and talking over a cup of coffee. They both look up when the door slams behind me. Aunt Birdie’s smile is wide as she meets my eyes.

“There are my two favorite boys!” she announces, then comes over to give me a hug and Uncle Walt a kiss.

We set the cooler on the floor, and Aunt Birdie opens the lid, inspecting our score.

“Looks like you boys got quite the haul today,” Aunt Birdie says proudly.

“Rainbow trout is one of Nova’s favorites,” the other woman says as she peeks into the cooler. She looks more like a yacht queen than a fisherman.

“Who’s Nova?” I ask, finding myself actually curious. Maybe she is one of these elusive kids Uncle Walt told me about.

The woman looks at me proudly. “My daughter. I’m Amanda, and you must be Holt.” She extends her hand and I shake it. After dropping my hand, she adds, “I also brought my son Christian. He’s your age and will be in your class this year. Birdie thought it would be nice if you two met before school started.”

“Cool” is all I say before a girl in a flowery dress practically bounces through the swinging doors.

“Did someone say my name?” She’s almost a foot shorter than me, with blonde hair in braided pigtails.

She stops short at the sight of me, her gap-toothed smile dropping. “Who are you?”

I look over at my aunt for clarification.

Aunt Birdie comes over and places her hand on my shoulder. “This is my nephew, Holt. Holt, this is Nova.”

Nova pushes her hand forward with all theconfidence of a businessman and firmly shakes my hand. She has quite the grip for a little kid.

“Christian!” Nova shouts, startling me and everyone else in the room.

“What?” A boy my age pushes through the door and comes to stand next to the girl.

Nova motions to me with her hand. “Meet Holt. Your new friend.”

Christian eyes me warily, and I’m sure I look like I’m doing the same.

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