Gerald slumps back down and scoffs into the cushion. “Clean yourself up.”
I take a steadying breath and stand back up. Looking around the cabin and realize there are no cleaning supplies to speak of. I don’t know how to clean my only jacket in time for tomorrow either.
Even though it’s the last thing in the world I want to share, Gerald being like he is right now, I need to call someone for help.
Still wet with barf, I walk over to the console table near the front door. Picking up the phone, I call the only other person I know here.
“Front desk, this is Andri speaking, how can I help you?” His deep voice is weirdly soothing. Despite my anxiety about him seeing what my life is like, I want his help.
“Andri, I’ve got a bit of a situation on my hands…”
“Are you okay?” There’s a panicked note to his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just Gerald. He’s gotten sick.”
“Oh, yeah, I can help you. I’ll be there in one sec. Let me grab some cleaning supplies.”
The phone clicks on his end, and I place the dated receiver back into its cradle. Unable to do anything but wait and not wanting to get vomit any more places than it already is, I stand still.
It gives me just enough time to survey what I’ve made of my life. I’m a college dropout, a foster kid who never found their forever family, a shit skier, and worst of all I know that the man who just vomited on me is as good as it gets. Gerald is as close as someone like me gets to a happy ending.
And there, coated in his bile, I wonder if this is really the life I want. Do I want a life that Gerald has crafted for me—or should I be forging my own way?
It only takes a minute or two before there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I yell, and the door unlocks itself. Of course he would have a master key, he is the owner of this establishment after all.
The door swings open, and a burst of chilly air blows past Andri, snow haloing around his form backlit by the moonlight. His soft white fur floats up in the wind, such a contrast to that strong blue jaw of his.
I’d like to say it’s the cold, but I think it’s how noble he looks that takes my breath away.
Only once he enters do I see the comically small maid’s caddy and bucket he carries. He holds the handle between his thumb and forefinger as if it was nothing more than a doll’s toy.
“I’m here!” he shouts a little too loudly. He’s huffing, like he’s run across the mountain to get to me. Wait, not me, to the mess.He probably doesn’t want anything in the room to stain too badly.
When he sees me, he wrinkles his nose. I don’t blame him for it though, because honestly this whole situation is gross.
“I-I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any cleaning stuff or I would have—”
“It’s not a problem, I swear.” He sets the bucket down. His eyes snap over to Gerald, slumped face down on the sofa. “Is it okay if I put him into the recovery position in the bathroom? It’ll make any future messes much easier to clean.”
“Of course, why didn’t I think of that? God, I’m sorry I’m so stupid.” I feel worthless.
“What?” Andri looks confused. “You do know that none of this is your fault, right? It’s his.” He walks over to my blacked-out fiance and lifts him easily. He holds Gerald like you would hold a baby with a full diaper—as far away as his arms can.
He takes him into the bathroom, and I don’t follow. I hear a bit of shuffling, and a grunt, before Andri reappears with Gerald’s shirt and jacket that he stuffs into a bag.
“I’ll have these cleaned by seven.” He stops in front of me and holds the bag open.
I pause before realizing that he wants my stuff too.
“That’s really nice of you,” I tell him as I carefully peel my jacket off. “And I want you to know that the stress of the wedding is really all this is. Gerald is great, I promise.” I drop my gaze as I quickly chuck the sticky sweater off my body and into the bag.
There’s a beat of silence between us. Even though I don’t want him to, I thought Andri might contradict me. When I look back up at him, his blue mouth hangs open and his eyes are wide. He’s staring directly at my boobs, and I raise my hands quickly to cover my chest.
From the look on his face, I can only assume he thinks human bodies are weird. Of course he would, but some part of me wishes he didn’t.
I run into the bathroom and immediately turn on the shower, stepping over Gerald’s body.
