I stare at the blank screen, thinking about how much my life has changed since I’ve met him. When this opportunity was offered to me, I was nervous to take it. I wondered how I’d feel coming back to the cityI left, the chaos and 24/7 vibes I once adored. Would I second-guess my decision to leave, moving to the Pacific Northwest, to the house tucked in the woods with the lodge owner?
The whole “city girl leaves her apartment for the man in the woods” line isn’t lost on me. I know what it looks like from the outside, but, you know what? No one knows what that shift felt like—how I went from sprinting to a slow walk. My legs were about to give out from running, holding myself up through things I shouldn’t have had to, and I needed a reset.
Holland, and the way he loves me, is the slow walk I didn’t know I needed.
A smile, one I wasn’t sure I’d find today, paints my lips as I pack my bag and leave the office.
CHAPTER FOUR
Holland
I hold the secretin my fingers, turning it over and over. I finally built up enough courage, was going to come clean to Ivy, get this off my chest.
That didn’t happen.
An empty rocks glass holds the remnants of my bourbon—the one I poured when I made the decision to tell Ivy what was going on. It’s been too long keeping her in the dark. The wind whistles through the trees, pine branches move outside the floor to ceiling windows—probably my favorite part about this place. I can still hear my sister on the phone, telling me how she was arguing with the contractors on this type of window for the back wall.
In my hand is a check, made out to me, an offer to purchase The Emerald Canopy Lodge. Every time I look at the amount, I squint to make sure I’m getting all those zeroes right. There are oil smudges from the places my fingers have gripped and held it, over and over.
This all started with a guest, someone who stayed at the lodge, and ended with him stopping me at the lodge bar before he caught a flight.
“I know you don’t know anything about me but I’m here to possibly make your life a thousand times easier. I work for an organization which focuses on merging sustainability forestation efforts and businesses like yours.”
“If you have a sample for me, you can leave it at the front desk. I’ll look when I have some time and we’ll get back to you.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. This is a property I’ve had my eyes on for a while,” the man looks around. He’s tall, probably almost 6’6’’ and wearing jeans, black and white Nike sneakers, and a plain black hoodie. He senses me taking him in.
“Listen, it’s a travel day,” he gestures to his outfit, like I care if he’s wearing a suit or not. “Holland, we purchase properties like yours, give it a burst in funding and help it thrive financially, while also maintaining and bettering the surrounding environment and ecosystems.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card.
I grab it, too stunned to speak. The company, Greater When Green, itches my brain.
“Our CEO hosted a small retreat here a few years back. Since then, we’ve blown up and are really able to make a difference.”
“I can’t sell the lodge.” I laugh as I look down at the card and back at him. This place was opened by my grandfather, run by my parents, and then my sister was supposed to take it over. Hazel never got the chance, so here I am, with the legacy business.
“It wouldn’t be just selling. It’d be securing the lodge’s legacy for many years past you and I. It’s a bigger picture type of success.”
My muscles are like stone, I’m not quite sure what to do. Part of me wonders if Ivy will hop out of a booth and scream “gotcha”. This feels like a prank.
“The look you’re giving me is normal. Listen, I know it’s a lot without knowing much at all. My contact info is on the card. We’d love at least a meeting to talk about the offer. All I know is this place is too beautiful to not be around forever.”
If there’s something my grandfather instilled in me, it’s that you always hear people out—that’s what I did. Not right away, but after I’d been amoody bastard for far longer than anyone should’ve accepted, I knew I needed to at least hear them out.
Greater When Green was surprisingly good—the associates likeable—with many success stories with organizations which have taken them up on their offers.
The things they wanted to do at the lodge, add on, enhance, would bring more revenue long term, and make it even more stable. It’s not like we’re hurting for money but there’s not a strong strategy behind that. It’s mostly that I haven’t done something crippling and terribly wrong, on accident, up to this point.
The offer I hold in my hand, allows me to keep working at the lodge, along with the entire current staff, but giving up ownership and big picture decisions. The official line is I’d still be involved in those conversations, but it’s hard to tell if that’s accurate. I’d have to see it to believe it.
The cabin Hazel built would become mine, along with the property it sits on, as well as some surrounding—a solid bonus with the offer. Calling it a cabin still feels ridiculous, since it’s nicer than most homes, but that’s what it’s technically referred to.
Hazel. My heart aches over my sister. It's been years since she died, but there are times, like right now, where I'd give damn near anything to talk to her. The lodge was always Hazel's happy place. Her safe place. Am I betraying her memory by selling it? Or am I honoring her by making it more stable? Everything is jumbled in my brain and it fucking hurts—like when you keep biting the spot on your lip, over and over again.
If I would’ve gotten this offer when Hazel died, I would’ve taken it without question. Something like this would’ve been my saving grace. I haven’t talked to my parents about the pending offer, but I know what they will say: this is your decision and we support you either way. The same waythey tried to jump in when I was practically killing myself taking everything over after Hazel.
With the compensation, I could still work, if I wanted to, but I wouldn’t need to. Or, Ivy could quit her job and do something else? The point is that the money is substantial.
It might take the pressure off. I could work at the lodge but not be responsible for its success after that point. I’ve poured myself into this place for years and I’ve taken care of it, but how long do I want to do that for?
