by Ava Bell
“Hi there. What can I help you kids with?” the man asks. Sam takes a few steps forward.
“Hello, sir. I’m Sam and this is Maggie. She has a Honda Accord that needs to be looked at. I’m not sure but I think the thermostat is going out.”
“Well, hello Sam and Maggie, I’m Doug and I can help you. Just pull it into the first open bay and I’ll take a look at it.” Sam holds out his hand and I give him the car keys. I assume he’s more familiar with pulling a car into a confined space; he is a guy after all. Doug takes a look at it and comes back over to where I’m standing.
“Well, your friend Sam here was right; it’s the thermostat. But a little bad news, ma’am. I don’t carry Honda parts here. Not much of a demand for them. Just a lot of Ford and Chevy trucks around here.” My face drops as he sees my disappointment.
“Okay, so how do we get the part we need?” I say, trying not to let the tears fall that are threatening to form in my eyes.
“I can order it for you, ma’am, but with it being late on a Friday afternoon, it will take a couple of days to get it. Monday at best.”
I take a deep breath, nodding my head. “Okay, can you order it today?”
“I sure can. Let’s go in and I’ll call my parts distributor. I’ll tell him to put a rush on it and maybe we can get it by Monday morning.” We follow him inside so he can order the part.
“Good news, ma’am. The part will be shipped this evening and he thinks it will definitely be here sometime Monday,” he says.
“Great! Thank you so much for helping. I really appreciate it.”
I turn to Sam, not really knowing what to do next. He smiles and nods his head. “Okay, looks like your all set. Thanks for the ride, Maggie, it was nice meeting you.”
I watch as he walks towards the door and before I realize what I’m doing, I quickly catch up to him. “Sam, let me buy you some lunch.” He turns and as he motions for me to follow him, Doug shouts out that there’s a diner close with great chicken- fried steak.
“Okay, let’s have lunch,” he says, as we walk out onto the sidewalk. “But I’m not about to let you buy my lunch, Maggie. I wasn’t raised that way.” There’s something about this guy and I’m not sure why I feel such an attraction to him, other than his knock-me-off-my-feet smile.
As we walk towards the diner, I notice how this little town has quite a bit of charm, something one might see in a travel magazine. Treelined streets with lots of potted plants and flowers along the sidewalk, and lots of antique stores. There’s even an ice cream parlor and a couple of small boutiques. This looks like the kind of place my mother would have loved. She had a flair for decorating and antiques were always her favorite. Every time we would take a family vacation she would scope out the town as we drove around. She would browse for hours while dad and I would follow along through each store, hoping she would find something to buy so we could move on to something more entertaining.
We find an empty booth by the large window at the Main Street Diner and sit down. The waitress smiles as she comes over to hand us menus and take our drink order.
We both sit quietly as we look over the menu. I decide on the club sandwich and Sam says he wants to try the chicken- fried steak. After giving the waitress our orders, we sit and stare out the window at activity going on in a park directly across from the diner.
“I wonder what’s going on over there?” I say. “Looks like some sort of party.”
“Maybe it’s a wedding or a birthday party. Whatever it is, it looks like they’re having a pretty good time,” Sam says.
“I think I’ll run to the ladies’ room before our food arrives,” I tell Sam. He looks up at me with those amazing crystal-blue eyes and smiles. I suddenly feel my stomach turn flips.
When I return, our food is on the table and I notice Sam is patiently waiting on me before starting, like a true southern gentleman.
“I asked the waitress what was going on across the street. She said there’s a wine festival. It’s an annual event this time of year,” Sam says, taking a bite of his chicken- fried steak.
“Well, that explains why the crowd looks so happy,” I say.
“So, tell me, Sam, where are you headed? I noticed your backpack and guitar case, so I figured you are traveling somewhere.”
Sam leans back and smiles. “I’m headed to Chicago. My cousin just bought a bar and he needs some help with it.”
“Oh, that’s cool. Chicago, huh? Are you planning on walking?” I ask nervously, trying to make small talk.
Laughing, Sam says, “No, I took a bus, but I missed it when we stopped at a little town a few miles back. We all got off the bus at a large travel center to go to the bathroom and grab a snack. I got stuck behind a lady buying lottery tickets. I thought I had plenty of time, but I missed it by just a few seconds. The cashier pointed me in this direction and said there should be a bus station around here. It’s no big deal; I’ll catch the next one. I just need to find out when it leaves.”
“Are you sure there’s a bus station here?” I ask. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of him and I think he’s starting to notice.
“Yeah, I asked the waitress. She said the bus station is just down the street. After lunch we should go back to the car so I can get my things.”
I feel a small twinge when I think about Sam leaving on that bus soon. “What does your family think of you moving to Chicago?” I ask, hoping to find out more about him in the short time we have. Sam looks at me and hesitates. I can tell he isn’t comfortable talking about his family.
“It’s just me my dad and sister. They’re okay with it. They knew I couldn’t wait to get out of that small town. There was just no opportunity for me there, so I jumped at the chance when Ryan asked me to move out there. I also play guitar so I’m hoping to do a few sets a week. We’re both pretty excited about it.” Sam’s mood completely changes when he talks about his opportunity in Chicago.
“Sounds like a great opportunity for you.” I lean back in my seat. Sam finishes the last of his chicken-fried steak and looks at me curiously.
“And what about you? Where are you headed? Your car was pretty full of stuff. Are you moving somewhere?” he asks.
I look down and smile. “Yes, I’m headed to New York City. I’m enrolled to start school in the fall.”
He leans forward, staring into my eyes, and I can feel the heat as it spreads across my face.
“So, Maggie, what school is all the way in New York City?” he asks. “You don’t strike me as a big-city girl.”
I laugh. “It’s a school of dance, ballet. It’s what I’ve dreamt about my whole life.”
“Oh, a ballet dancer, nice,” Sam teases. I start to feel a little nervous by the way he is flirting with me, not because he’s a guy, but because it’s been a while since I’ve flirted back. I’m no prude, that’s for sure; I’ve had a few of boyfriends over the last couple of years. But the way he looks at me makes me feel like he’s better at this flirting than I am.
The waitress lays our check on the table. “Are you to in town for the wine festival?” she asks.
“No, I had car trouble a few miles out of town and it’s at the repair shop until Monday.”
“Well, while you’re here, you should check it out,” she says. “It’s a lot of fun and things get a little crazy after dark.”
She smiles as she points to the cash register up front. “You can pay at the register. You two have a great day.”
Sam grabs the ticket before I can. “Hey! It’s my treat, remember?” Sam smiles and walks towards the cashier and I follow behind him.
After Sam pays the bill, we both walk out towards the repair shop. As we get to the corner we see that it’s closed.
“Shit! My backpack and guitar are in your car. Please don’t tell me it’s closed!” Sam’s frustration puts me on edge and I slowly sit down on the curb.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I had no idea it would be closed this early.” I look down, feeling responsible.
/> Sam sits next to me. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I was really counting on catching that bus tonight,” he says, running his hands through his hair.
“Sam, I need to find a place to stay until my car is ready. Come on, let’s go back to the diner and ask the cashier where the nearest motel is.”
The cashier gives us directions to the nearest motel two blocks over. As we get closer, I can see the “No Vacancy” sign flashing.
“Well, this doesn’t look good.” He is clearly frustrated. “Let’s go in and see if they have a room.”
We both walk in and the older lady behind the desk smiles and says, “Hello, can I help you?”
Sam walks to the desk. “Do you have any rooms available?”
She shakes her head, still smiling. “No, I’m afraid we don’t. The wine festival has us completely booked.”
“Are there any other motels around that might have a couple of rooms?” I ask, sidling up next to Sam.
The clerk nods, eager to help. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast just a couple of blocks from here. It’s the Herman Hill Vineyard and Inn. They may have something.”
I ask the clerk if she wouldn’t mind calling them to see if they have anything available. “Sure, sweetie, I can do that.” She dials the number and I can hear her asking about a room. I hear her thank the person on the line before she hangs up. “They have one room that was booked, but they never showed. Hurry on over there. I told them to save it for you. Just ask for Tilly; she’s the owner. She’ll get you all squared away.”
I smile and thank her.
Sam and I walk out and towards the bed-and-breakfast. I stop and grab his arm. “Sam, they only have one room. Maybe there’s another motel close-by?”
“Maggie, you need a place until Monday, so we need to get over there before someone else gets it. Come on, we’ll figure something out.”
Sam grabs my hand and we walk at a fast pace, almost jogging, towards the bed-and-breakfast. As we round the corner, I see a large Victorian-style house. A small sign sets just outside the white picket fence.
Hermann Hill Vineyard and Inn looks very picturesque. The sign out front confirms we are at our destination. The garden is in full bloom and there’s a porch swing.
Sam and I walk through the gate and up to the front door. There’s a large sign on the door that says, “Welcome.” We walk into a small lobby area where there’s an older lady standing behind the desk.
“Hello, are you Tilly?” I ask.
She smiles a warm and inviting smile and says, “Yes, I am. You must be the couple looking for a room.”
Sam glances at me and steps closer to the desk. “Yes, that’s right. We were hoping you had more than one room available, but the clerk at the motel said you just had the one.”
“We only have just the one, and you’re lucky we have that one. We had a cancelation this afternoon . . . With all the visitors in town for the wine festival, we’re usually booked months in advance.”
I can see that Sam is thinking as his brow furrows. I step closer to the desk and tell Tilly that we will take it. “It’s one hundred and twenty dollars a night. Are you planning on staying just one night?” Tilly asks.
“No, I will be here until Monday. Is it available until then?” I ask.
“Yes, it is. Should I book you for all three nights?”
“Yes, please.” I grab my wallet from my purse and hand her my credit card. “Is there just one bed?” I ask, glancing over at Sam.
“Yes, it’s a queen-size, but I do have a rollaway bed if you need it,” Tilly says
I don’t even look at Sam as I nod. “Yes, that would be great.”
Tilly hands me my credit card and a key. “It’s a small cottage in the back. There are three back there, and yours is the one in the middle. There are clean towels, sheets, and extra pillows. Let me know if there’s anything I can get you, and I’ll send the rollaway right out to you,” she says.
Sam and I both walk out onto the large wraparound porch. He stops and looks at me and says, “Maggie, are you sure about me sharing the room with you?” I can tell he’s slightly embarrassed.
“Sam, there are no other rooms. It’s not a big deal. It’s only for tonight.”
We walk down the steps and follow the path around to the back where there are three little cottages in a row. All three are painted a pale blue, with pots of flowers placed on each porch.
I walk to the middle cottage and unlock the door and we both walk in. It’s small but cozy with bright colors. A queen-size bed is situated on the far back wall with nightstands on each side. There’s a fireplace on the left wall facing the bed, and two big leather chairs on the opposite side. I can see the uneasiness on Sam’s face. “This is really nice, small but nice.”
“Small is definitely the key word here,” he says, sitting down in one of the leather chairs. I walk around and check everything out. There’s a knock at the door that causes me to jump, and Sam laughs as he opens the door.
A tall bald gentleman pushes the rollaway bed into the room and introduces himself. “I’m Bob, Tilly’s husband; I brought you the rollaway bed you requested.” Sam helps him place it by the wall farthest from the queen-size bed. We both thank him as he walks out.
“This doesn’t look too bad, feels comfy.” He presses down on the thin mattress with the palms of his hands.
When I find the closet with extra blankets and pillows, I grab one of each and hand them to Sam. He takes them and tosses them on his rollaway. I step into the small bathroom and close the door, looking at myself in the mirror. Yuck; my long strawberry-blonde hair could use a brush, which I don’t have. I could kick myself for not carrying one in my purse, and my thoughts quickly shift to the man that’s on the other side of the door. I stare at myself in the mirror and whisper, “What are you thinking, Maggie? Letting a total stranger stay here with you, are you insane?” I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the curls and make myself look somewhat presentable. I wash my face and hands and walk out into the small room. Sam smiles as I walk out. It’s a nervous smile which has me feeling a bit anxious. I decide that since it’s still early evening we should get out and have a drink.
“Hey, how about we check out what’s going on in town? We could check out the wine festival. That’s if you’re up to going out,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Sam smiles and nods his head. “That sounds great. I think we both could use a drink after the day we’ve had.”
I WATCH MAGGIE as she moves around the room, it’s hard for me to keep my eyes off of her. She has such an innocence about her, almost pure, which is far from the type of girls I’ve dated in the past. Although meeting Maggie was definitely not in my plans, I didn’t mind helping her with her car and I wasn’t about to leave her stranded on the side of the road by herself. I really appreciate her letting me share her room and I definitely don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, but I have noticed her small quick glances when she thinks I’m not looking. I was really counting on being in Chicago by now, however, I can’t complain; it could be a lot worse. I need to call Ryan tomorrow and let him know I’ve been delayed and I know Karen will freak out if she doesn’t hear from me soon. I can’t help but feel guilty for leaving Dad and Karen, but I know she will take care of him. She always does. These past twelve hours I’ve felt like I can finally breathe. I’ve waited too long to get out of that town and if I never see it again, it will be too soon. I’ll miss what family I have, but if I stayed there any longer I would have never gotten out.
Sam grabs the key to the cottage as we head out the door and towards the park. The laughter and music echoes through the streets as we get closer. There are several booths lined up in rows, displaying their wines; some local, others from out of town. They are all offering free wine tasting as well as bottles for purchase. Music plays in the background and people mingle in groups while they move to each booth.
“Should we try some of the wine
?” Sam asks, stepping up to the first booth. He takes two of the plastic cups and hands me one. When I take a small sip, the memory of my first experience with alcohol comes rushing back to me. I was seventeen, and my best friend and I swiped a bottle of wine from her parents’ liquor cabinet one night when they were out for the evening. We drank the entire bottle. The next morning was brutal and I swore I would never drink again. When my dad found out, I thought I was going to be grounded for the rest of my life.
I smile and throw my cup in the large trash bin beside the booth. “Wanna try another?” I ask Sam, walking to the next booth.
“Sure, but one of us needs to try to stay sober,” Sam says, winking.
After several booths of wine tasting, it looks like Sam has loosened up a bit and I’m feeling more talkative, if that’s even possible. He’s actually talked more in the past hour than he has since we first met. We find a bench away from the crowd, and sit and people-watch. In between watching several intoxicated people stumble and others dancing to the music, we talk about simple things. Nothing too in depth. I now know that Sam’s favorite food is fried chicken. He asks me the same and I inform him it is Mexican food. His favorite color is orange. Orange? Really? I give him a hard time about it as I nudge him with my shoulder. Of course I tell him my favorite color is red, and he’s surprised it’s not pink. “Pink? Why would you think it would be pink?” I ask, facing him. We seem to be more comfortable making eye contact now that the wine has me more relaxed.
Sam turns to me. “You seem like a girly-girl, so I just assumed it was your favorite color. There’s nothing wrong with pink.” I put on my you’ve-offended-me look and all of a sudden I get the giggles. They are the ones where I can’t help it even though I try as hard as I can. I used to get them in church regularly. My dad would look down at me with his stern look until my mom would hand me a piece of gum, like gum would keep me from giggling.