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When I woke the following morning, Newbie was gone. On the nightstand beside me I read a note he’d written on motel stationery:
Went to get us food. Be right back.
Newbie
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with one hand while covering a yawn with the other. I considered falling back to sleep when the door opened, and Newbie walked in carrying a plastic bag and a cardboard tray with two steaming paper coffee cups. The heavy drapes, drawn halfway closed, allowed little morning light to shine in.
“Good, you’re awake.”
I straightened my back and crossed my legs. I kept the sheet over my lap. I’d fallen asleep without putting on any panties.
“Whatever that is, it smells delicious.”
“Eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee.” He kicked the door closed with the heel of his foot. “Do you want to eat in bed or at the table?”
“I think I’ll stay in bed.”
He balanced the bag of food and coffee carrier in one hand, locking the door with his other.
“Bed it is. I didn’t know how you took your coffee, so I brought a bunch of everything.”
He sat the bag on the bed, removed the cups, placing them on the nightstand, then dropped two handfuls of sugar packets, various types of sweeteners, powdered creamer, and Coffee-Mate singles.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I brushed my fingers over his cheeks and tapped the tip of his nose. “Your cheeks and nose are rosy. I look that way when I’ve been lugging bags of leaves to the curb after a long day of raking. What, did you run across the street?”
“It’s cold out today. Without a coat, I guess the chill got to me.” He lowered his head, busying himself with preparing his cup of coffee—three sugars and two creamers.
“My stomach thanks you for weathering the cold.” I sipped my black coffee, which was still hot.
“You’re very welcome.”
“When should we call the police?” I asked after draining our coffee and scraping our to-go containers clean.
“I already did.”
“What? When?”
“This morning, before I went to get us breakfast.” He packed our empty containers and coffee cups in the plastic bag, tying off the handles before setting it by the wastebasket.
“I never heard you on the phone.”
“I didn’t want to wake you, so I called from the front office.”
“You also took out our trash?” I pointed to the table, no longer covered with our empty dinner boxes.
“Why wouldn’t I? I was going that way.”
“Can’t we have the maid service take care of it for us?”
“Are you serious?”
A shameful, naïve flush swept over my face. “No?”
“Erin, we’re not on vacation. The fewer people who see us, the better, which means no housekeeping.”
I was angry, perhaps unjustly, at being treated like a foolish child. “What did they say?” I asked to avoid unleashing my irritation of his treatment toward me. “Do they need to speak to me yet?”
“No, they’re following a lead, or so I was told.”
“What kind of lead?” I sat on my restless hands.
“No one would tell me.”
“Will they come by soon to speak with us in person?”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t seem to know much. I should call. Maybe I can get more information. It was my home, after all.”
“Why don’t you wait until evening? If they’re out investigating, no one who knows our case will be at the station today.”
I returned the phone receiver to its cradle. “You’re right. I’ll call before dinner.”
“In the meantime, what would you like to do?”
“I’d like to go for a walk.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t leave this room. It isn’t safe.”
“You have.”
“I’m nobody. Joe was after you. What do you think he’d do if he found you?”
“Haven’t you considered you walking around makes me a target? If he saw you, wouldn’t he suspect I was nearby?”
“I’m careful. I go out for brief periods.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do. If I walk down by the creek, no one will see me.”
He threw his hands in the air. “That’s even worse. If no one could see you, how would anyone know you were in danger?”
“I assumed you’d come with me. Would you not protect me if necessary?”
“I would if I was conscious. If I was knocked out or shot, what would you do then?”
“Fine,” I punched the headboard, “I’ll stay locked up. I’m beginning to wonder if being here is any better than being at home. At least there I knew there was no way out. Here, I can look out the window. I watch as cars come and go, I see you leave with ease. It isn’t fair that I’m trapped in here while you run free. My experience was far worse than yours, yet you’re making up rules that benefit you while excluding me.”
With a cold concentration, he stared at me from across the room. Sunlight filtered in behind him, shadowing his face in a darkened haze. He stepped toward me, slow, deliberate. The closer he got, the clearer the vicious anger on his face became. It radiated off of him, engulfing me in his fury.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have compared our situations.” I wrapped my arms around my legs, bent to my chest.
“If you want to risk your life, be my guest.” He stepped out the pathway to the door. “Don’t let me stop you.” He watched me with his arms folded around his chest from the foot of my bed.
“That’s okay. You’re right. I shouldn’t risk exposure. For now, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that the police give me good news this evening.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
“I think I’m going to take a shower now.” I shuffled across the bed, avoiding having to go around him. He blocked my path.
He held me still with his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you.”
“If the police do their job, you’ll never have to find out.”
He wrapped his arms around me. My arms hung limply at my sides as his chest rose and fell with even breaths. “Enjoy your shower.” He kissed my forehead then stepped aside to let me pass.
I shut and locked the bathroom door. I woke this morning thinking how sweet it was that he used his nickname to sign his note, now I stood in a bathroom wondering if the guy I thought I knew was someone I could trust.
I shouldn’t have compared our situations, but did my statement warrant his reaction? If loving me meant scaring me, judging me for wanting to be free, deciding what was best without first discussing it with me, then I prayed he’d fall out of love soon.
I prolonged the shower, not yet ready to be near him again, but it didn’t matter. I opened the bathroom door to a vacant room. Emotions flooded my psyche. I was furious that he’d left, knowing it angered me when he did. I was tempted to get into my car, leave him, leave everything behind. But after the indignation came worry. Had he left me because he was uninterested in dealing with my tantrums? Or could he have been kidnapped like Kris?
I dressed in the outfit he’d laid out for me on the bed, my movements hurried and frantic. I had to look for him. I had my hand on the doorknob, prepared to search for him. I hadn’t found my shoes, but it didn’t matter how sick I became, walking around barefoot in the cold, so long as he was okay.
I took a wide step back as the key card sounded on the outside of the door. The door swung in, and bright rays of sunlight blinded me to the person entering our room.
“What are you doing?” It was Newbie.
I lunged myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. “You’re okay.”
He held me close to his body. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Didn’t you see my note?”
“No. I didn’t look for one, though.”
I released him and took a step back. Having thought he was missing lessened my anger for his actions. Knowing he was safe confused my emotions. The prospect of being left behind forced me to question if staying mad at him was worth it.
“Don’t be mad, but I was thirsty.” He held up two large bottles of water. “There’s a vending machine a few doors down. I thought you might be as well.” He held a bottle in the air for me to take.
“Thank you.” I twisted off the cap and drained the bottle in one long gulp.
“I should have gotten more.” The corner of his lip curved into an amused smile.
“Sorry, I guess I was thirsty, too.” I wiped away a drop of water that had dripped down my chin.
“Do you want me to get more now?” He drank while awaiting my answer.
“I’m good for now. Maybe later.”
“Just tell me when.” He dropped his empty bottle into the metal trashcan.
“I will. How were you able to get anything out of a machine, anyway? We don’t have any cash.”
“The machine takes credit cards.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, shocked the hell outta me, too. I didn’t expect a dive like this even to have vending machines, let alone updated ones. Fortunate for us, though.”
“How much money do you think we have left on the card? If we keep eating out, are we going to have enough to pay for an extended stay?”
“We’re good. The tip the police received was enough to convince the officers that we’re probably telling the truth. While under that assumption, they’re covering our room charges, basically writing it off as protective custody. We can stay as long as we need.”
We both took a seat at the table.
“Why did you say probably like that?”
“That’s how one of the detectives said it. He’s a very gruff, no-nonsense kind of guy who’s leading the case. I suppose we should be thankful a man like him took my claim seriously.”
“It’s baffling that our story is difficult to believe. Abductions happen all the time.”
“True, but those people are removed from their homes. Being unable to escape your own house is a little difficult to wrap your head around.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that. Although it’s a question I asked myself while there. In the beginning, I rationalized that resisting would be useless and also unnecessary. I believed someone would come for me. As days dragged on, I lost motivation to plot an escape. Then when you and Kris came into the picture, I had a new reason not to run, not that I did us any favors by staying.”
“What happened to Kris and me isn’t your fault.”
“I should have negotiated your release or distracted Joe while you two fled.”
“You’re not a hostage negotiator.” He held my hand from across the table. “There was nothing you could have done. Joe and Doris kept us separated most of the time, and when we were together, the damage had already been done or was in the process of being done. I know it isn’t easy, but you can’t blame yourself. Joe and Doris are the bad guys not you.”
“It wasn’t Joe or Doris who lost Kris. She vanished from this room without either of us knowing. We are to blame for her disappearance.”
He released my hand and leaned back in his chair. Neither of us spoke. What was there to say? We may not have been guilty of everything, but we were guilty of that.
He leaned forward, taking something out of his back pocket. “Wanna play some cards?” He slammed down a pack of cards.
“Where did you get those?”
“The diner.”
“They sell decks of cards at a diner?”
“No. The waitress who cashed me out asked if I wanted a spare pack. I’d mentioned that being stuck in a motel with nothing to do had us going stir-crazy.”
“That was nice of her.”
“I appreciated it. Pick your poison.” He removed the cards, tossed the empty box onto the wide window ledge, then began shuffling.
“Blackjack.”
“Good choice.”
***
“Remind me to never play blackjack with you again,” Newbie said, sliding the glossy cards back into their cardboard case.
The sun was setting outside our window. We’d been playing and talking for hours.
“I can’t help that I’m good.”
“Good? You kicked my ass. I only won three times.”
“Three times isn’t bad.”
“Out of four, maybe, but we’ve played more hands than I can count.”
“I’ll go easy on you next time.”
“I doubt that. You’re too competitive.”
“What can I say? My mom taught me well.”
“Is your mom as cutthroat as you?”
“I think that’s a negative way of looking at it. We both like to win. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Next time we’re playing Uno or maybe Go Fish, any game that gives me a chance to win back some of my masculinity.”
“You’re right. Nothing says manly like winning a hand of Go Fish.” I stood, stretching my arms high in the air and rolling the kinks from my neck.
“I hate that you’re right.”
“That’s too bad. I’m quite fond of the fact.”
He tilted his head to the side. “I bet you are.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I should call the police station in case the detective working our case goes home in the evening.”
“It’s only four. We never ate lunch so, why don’t we eat an early dinner then you can call afterward?”
“I am hungry. I guess it can wait a little longer.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek.
“Sure, it can. No reason to ruin a good day on an empty stomach. What sounds good?”
I sat on our bed facing Newbie who sat on Kris’s old bed. A weight anchored my stomach to the bed. I was contemplating what to eat for dinner while Kris was still missing.
“What we had last night is fine.” I stared at the black, hotel phone on Newbie’s lap to avoid dwelling on my guilt for doing nothing to find Kris.
“It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” he said, hanging up after placing our orders.
The idea of cool air nipping at my cheeks enticed me to offer to go across the street for our food. However, his reaction the last time I suggested leaving silenced me.
“Do you want soda or water?”
“Both, please.”
“I think I’ll do the same.”
“That’s a lot to carry. You’re going to need help.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the vending machine now, so I can get us water and soda without having to lug it across the street.”
“An armful of bottles? You’re still going to need help. I’ll hold open the door for you.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary, it’s only four small bottles. I’ll be right back.” The door bounced shut behind him.
His protective nature might have been nice if it hadn’t left me trapped in our motel room.
He returned a couple of minutes later with two bottles of Poland Springs water and two Cokes. He lined them up on the table. “I’m going to get our food now,” he said, staring at me from across the room. “Be back in a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
The door shut again, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I considered the time it would take for him to cross the street, pay for our food, then cross the street again back to our room.
Ten minutes, at least.
My legs were unsteady as I traveled the short distance of the room. I dried my slick hands onto my gray leggings but still had trouble turning the knob. It took a couple more tries before the door finally opened, and crisp air rushed inside. The sound of rustling leaves drew me out onto the walkway like a siren’s call. I breathed in the fresh, clean air. It was the first time since Doris helped us escape that I experienced the taste of freedom.
I craved more. But Newbie could return at any moment. Before he caught me, I forced myself back into our room. Closing our door, I accepted I had to trust Newbie and the police, though it wasn’t easy.
I was sitting on our bed, picking at my cuticles when Newbie walked in with a familiar plastic bag that read, Thank you, come again. He walked closer, setting the bag on the nightstand.
“Smells good,” I said, hoping the scent of clean, autumn air wasn’t evident on my skin.
“Two heart-attack-inducing sandwiches in as many nights isn’t the soundest decision to make but, what the hell, right?”
“You only die once, might as well make it a worthwhile death.”
“I doubt this counts as worthwhile but enjoyable for sure. Table or bed?”
“Table.”
I waited from across the small table for him to unload the bag. He slid my box to me along with napkins and ketchup packets. We ate, slower than the previous night, but still managed to finish in less than ten minutes.
“Ugh.” I leaned my chair back on its rear legs. “I’m so full.” I patted my bloated belly. “I need to lie down.” I tossed my used napkins and empty ketchup packets into the container.
“Here, I got it.” Newbie picked the box up, closed it, then placed it, along with his, back in the plastic bag while I waddled to our bed.
“I don’t think I’m ever eating again,” I lamented from the bed, my forearm lying like dead weight on my clammy forehead.
“Yeah, that is a lot of food, and to think, I almost ordered fries.”
“God, don’t even mention anything food-related.”
“Do you still want to call the police station?” he asked, sitting by my feet.
“Yes. I just need a few minutes to relax first.” My lashes fluttered in a failed attempt to stave off a sudden, overcoming exhaustive state.
“You rest,” Newbie said, tucking me under the sheets. “You can call them tomorrow.”
A gentle kiss on my cheek was the last thing I remembered.