porch outside the bar and ducked inside, trying to be
as inconspicuous as possible.
I didn’t have to try very hard. The bar was full, wall-to-wall, with
loud, rowdy, boisterous bikers of both genders. It wasn’t so loud that I
couldn’t hear myself talk, but it was definitely loud enough to make me feel
splendidly anonymous. I spotted the ladies’ room and made a beeline for it; it
was a single-person bathroom, for which I was thankful.
After splashing some water in my face, washing away the concealer, I
went back into the bar. I didn’t see any place that specifically seemed to deal
with the motel portion of the bar/restaurant, so I went straight to the bar,
where a few bartenders were making chitchat with the clientele. No one seemed
in much of a rush to get their drinks, and money never seemed to pass any hands
as I waited for someone to spot me.
Finally, one of the older women, who was really gorgeous despite being
in her late thirties, came over to me. She was wearing a black leather vest
over a tight white tank top and hip-hugging jeans. She looked like the sort of
women who’d never let a man raise a hand to her. I envied her.
“What can I do ya for, sweetheart?” she
said, her eyes running over me, lingering on the bruise above my eye and the
bag I held clutched tight to my chest.
“A room? Is this where I can rent a room?” I asked, raising my voice
slightly to be heard. It felt weird to speak loudly; living with Jeremy, I’d
learned to affect a sort of whisper as my default speaking volume.
“Yup, we got rooms,” she said, leaning back and reaching for something
under the bar. “Single room is 60 bucks, with tax that’s…72.79. Cash or charge, hun ?” Despite her liberal use of endearments, she
sounded like she didn’t trust me, or just generally disliked me off the bat.
“Cash,” I said, wishing I’d taken the time to take some of the
hundreds from the duffel bag and put them in my wallet. I’d left my purse in
the car. “Um, hold on, I have to go get my wallet.”
“Alright,” she said, eyes narrowed as she watched me walk away. I
trotted to my car and quickly unzipped the duffel bag, grabbing my wallet and
slipping three hundreds from a wad of cash into the billfold.
Back in the bar, I had to wait a little longer before the bartender
came back. I handed her a hundred.
“Um, I also need some food? If you got…well,” I said, stuttering now.
When was the last time I’d ordered for myself at a restaurant? I couldn’t
remember.
“We ain’t got a big menu, doll. Burgers and
wings, pretty much.”
“Give me…whatever, I guess, the least healthy thing you have. Bacon
cheeseburger? And fries?”
“Alright, that’ll come to just bought ninety with the room,” she said,
taking my cash.
“Keep the change,” I said, hoping that a big tip would change the sour
look on her face. She nodded and slipped a key across the bar to me.
“Room 7. It’s on the far side back there,” she said, gesturing vaguely
to the left. “You wanna go get settled in, your food
should be ready when you get back.”
“Thanks,” I said, clutching the duffel bag even tighter to me as I
left the bar again. I drove around to the area where she’d directed me, inching
down the row of rooms until I saw 6, and then 7.
Parking and locking the car, I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened
the door and saw that the room wasn’t nearly as dingy or gross as I’d imagined
it would be. It was small, and smelled funky, but it looked comfortable enough
for the night.
I scanned the room, looking for the safe. It was tucked above the
closet; following the instructions, I set the combination, automatically using
Jeremy’s birthday, which had become my default password for e-mail and anything
else that required one; it had been his idea to use each other’s birthdays.
He’d said random numbers like that were good