by R. R. Banks
Graham walked up beside Day and I let out a sigh.
"She said that she had bad news for me. "
"Actually, this has to do with you, too," Day said. There was suddenly a flirty note to her voice and I felt like I was catching on to Rue's warning. "Turns out the weather is just going to be getting worse throughout the day. The roads are already iced over, and no transportation is going to be coming anywhere near here for at least a couple of days."
"So, we're stuck here?" I asked.
It came out sounding more disgusted than I should have let it and Day's face hardened slightly.
"Unless you've got yourself a pair of snowshoes or a couple of tennis rackets and you intend on hiking your way out of here, it looks like you're going to be visiting Whiskey Hollow until further notice." She seemed to notice the stress that I was feeling and softened slightly. "Now, don't worry. Things aren't ever so bad as the weather people say. Things'll probably warm up and we'll get you out of here tomorrow."
I nodded.
"Thank you. I guess I'll need my room for a while longer."
"Well, I already closed out that reservation, but if you want to come on out to the counter and fill out another card, I can secure it for you for as many nights as you'd like to claim."
Graham and I locked eyes. We both had the same thought and in a shot, I was out of the chair and running through the breakfast room. Graham was a step ahead, weaving through the crowd that seemed too surprised to move out of his way fast enough. I hopped over a chair and twirled around behind a woman who clung to a refill of scrambled eggs like they were her firstborn, but then found myself stuck behind an elderly man who seemed to just be standing in the middle of the floor without any real intention on doing anything. I tried to get to either side of him, but there wasn't enough space to fit my body through. I looked up and saw Graham nearing the door. He only had a few people and a bus cart circa 1940 to get past and he would be out in the lobby and stealing my room. I dropped down to my hands and knees and scrambled under the table, apologizing to feet as I went. When I got through to the other side, I hopped up and saw Graham move the cart out of the way. My stomach sank, but then I saw something fly at him from one side.
It happened so quickly I didn't even realize that it was a person. Graham grunted as the blurred figure hit him from behind, tackling him to the ground. I rushed the few feet towards them and realized that the person sprawled on top of him was a towering woman. She looked up at me with a triumphant expression and gestured towards the door. I ran out into the lobby and to the counter, meeting Day standing there holding another registration card. She was grinning at me and I wondered if she had anticipated The Chase. I just finished putting my name on the card when out of the corner of my eye I saw Graham approaching. The woman who flattened him followed behind. At least two inches taller than me and with shoulders that dwarfed even my own, she had wide brown eyes and tumbling thick hair that also made her stunningly beautiful.
"I'm sorry," Day said as Graham reached the counter, glaring at me. "Holly here has already filled out her card."
Graham nodded.
"And I'm assuming that you still don't have any other vacant rooms?"
"Well, no one checked out in the middle of the night, so, no."
"Fantastic."
I felt a slight flicker of guilt as he walked away from the counter and went to the corner of the lobby to get the bags that I saw stashed amongst an assortment of fake trees. I forced the thoughts away and looked at Day expectantly.
"Is there something else that you need?" she asked. "You couldn't have gone through a whole bar of soap already."
"Um, No. I'm good on the soap front. I just need the key to my room."
"Did you lose it?"
My hand went to my hip and I felt the key in my pocket. I let out a sigh. I had never returned the key to her because I had never checked out of the room. I met Day's eyes as I backed away from the counter, nodding as she chuckled softly.
"Well played," I said.
I turned away from her and found the woman who had taken down Graham still in the lobby. I walked up to her.
"Thank you for that," I said.
She gave a short laugh.
"No problem. I didn't know what kind of game you were playing, but I figured I'd help you win."
I laughed.
"I did. Thanks. I'm Holly."
"Nia," she said.
"Are you from Whiskey Hollow?"
She shook her head.
"Lord, no." She laughed. "That came out a lot worse than I meant it to. No, I'm not from here. I'm just visiting for my cousin's wedding." She looked up and to the side as if she was thinking about what she had just said. "My cousin and my best friend actually. Wow. I just really thought that through. She's going to be like....my cousin-in-law."
"Makes it harder for you to figure out which side to sit on," I said.
"Actually, I'm in the wedding, so that solves that for me."
"Oh. Convenient."
I was starting to realize how strange the exchange was, and I looked around to see where Graham had gone. He wasn't there anymore, and I wondered if he could have somehow broken into the room again. Rue walked up to me with Clementine wrapped tightly in a blanket as she slept in her mother's arms.
"Everything alright?" she asked.
"It's fine. Got my room. Well, technically, kept my room. I actually think that that was mostly for the amusement of everyone else around here to prevent cabin fever, but I don't care as long as I have the room for however long I'm going to be here."
"Do you have any plans for your time here?" Rue asked.
"I didn't even plan on being here. I have no idea where I am. I think I'm just going to hold up in my nice warm motel room and pretend that I'm already on my cruise."
"Well if you get bored or need to find some aloe for a pretend sunburn, go out and explore some. The hollow can be a pretty interesting place. Especially at Christmas time. You never know what you might find."
I nodded and watched her get Nia's attention and the two walked away, chatting about the upcoming wedding. I wasn't sure what to think as I braced myself and made my way through the snow that was getting rapidly deeper toward my room. I took another shower, got into another set of dry clothes, and realized that at this rate I was going to run out of anything but bathing suits and gauzy sundresses by the next day. I took my snow-damp clothes and hung them over the shower rod to dry and went back into the main room. I remembered what Graham had said about having to pull the bed down from the wall and I examined it carefully. Noticing a handle at the end I lifted the bed. It wasn't as heavy as I would have expected it to be, but it was awkward and I ended up leaned over with the bed rested on my back, unsure of what to do next. I had been standing that way for several long seconds before I heard a knock on the room door. I waited for the person on the other side to announce that they were housekeeping, but the voice never came.
There was another knock and I tried to turn around to take the bed in my hands, but I had backed up too far and now I was in a precarious situation. The person knocked again, and I gave an exasperated sigh.
"Yes?"
"Are you just going to pretend that you're not in there? Because if you are, yelling out to me is not helping the ruse."
I rolled my eyes when I heard Graham's voice. He was the last person I wanted to ask for help, but at this point I knew I didn't really have any other options. I rested my hands on my knees to try to assume as much of a casual position as I could and called for him to come in. When Day had first handed me the metal key to the motel room door, I had been slightly taken aback. It had been longer than I could remember since I’d seen an actual key to a motel room door, and I was so accustomed to the little plastic credit card like keys that I was immediately suspicious. I was thankful for the old-fashioned locks now, though, as the door opened and he stepped inside. As soon as he was in I braced myself for him to laugh at me. Instead, he stood with his arms c
rossed over his chest, staring at me as if trying to figure out how I had gotten myself into this position.
"I tried to put the bed back in the wall,” I said.
"I can see that."
"It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be..."
"Apparently not." He took a few steps closer to me and leans down so that he could look into my face. “Now, I know that you don't need anybody to help you, but would you like a little bit of a hand?"
I gave a somewhat defeated sigh, resigned to the fact that any ground I had gained by securing the room twice was now gone. I nodded, and Graham stepped up to the bed. He put two hands on the frame beside me and lifted. Immediately I felt the weight of the bed come off of my back and I scurried away straightening and bending back to stretch muscles that were aching from the awkward position. He pushed the bed into place in the wall and secured it with a small latch, then turn to me. Being able to see him straight on rather than from a bent position I was now able to see that he was soaking wet and the sweater he wore was torn.
"What happened to you?"
"It turns out that Whiskey Hollow is not as hospitable when you are trying to escape it. Since you got the last existing room in the hollow, I decided I would try my luck walking to the nearest town."
"Boom Boom already told you that it was at least an hour or two away," I pointed out.
"I am fully aware, but since the man was travelling by tractor I didn't put much stock in his estimation of distance. It turns out that it was probably extremely accurate. I wouldn't know though, because I didn't even make it back to the main road before I got attacked."
Fear and concern shot through me and I took what felt like an involuntary step forward towards him. If he got attacked, that meant that maybe the locals weren't too welcoming of outsiders. Considering that I was as much an outsider as he was, I figured that we should probably stick together.
"Are you alright?"
I was surprised to see a hint of embarrassment on Graham's face.
"I'm fine. It was just a damn turkey."
I blinked a few times, sure that I had missed something.
" A turkey?" I asked incredulously. " Your big dramatic attack was from a turkey?"
"It came out of nowhere at me. I want you to put a couple of bags on your shoulders and go out in the snow and have a giant ass bird attack you and see how you respond to it."
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"See? It's more intimidating than it sounds."
"No, I just wouldn't do it because I know you'd try to steal my room." I cocked my hip and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Speaking of which, what are you doing here?"
"I told you, a turkey attacked me when I was trying to leave the hollow."
"That might be reason for you to call the local news, or animal control, or maybe even the Ghostbusters, but I don't think it has anything to do with me."
Graham's jaw twitched as he stared at me. I could see that this man was not someone who is used to having people tell him no or oppose him in any way. Somehow that made it even more fun that I was obviously getting to him, but it also sent a strange little shiver through me that I didn't quite understand.
"Fine," he said. "Merry fucking Christmas to you too."
I got a sudden flash of my last encounter with Ben and sighed.
"Are you hurt or anything?'
He turned back from the door.
"What?"
"Are you hurt? Did the turkey get you?"
Graham looked down at himself as if it was the first time that he had evaluated the aftermath of the run-in with the foul fowl.
Oh, dear lord, the cabin fever was already setting in. I was losing my mind.
"It looks like I might have a scratch," he said. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."
"Let me look at it," I said.
"It's fine," he insisted.
"If it broke the skin, you should really clean it and make sure it's covered. You wouldn't want to get an infection."
"You think that's a major risk?" he asked, not sounding convinced.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "There's cat scratch fever. Maybe there's turkey scratch fever, too."
"Cat Scratch Fever?" he asked. "Isn't that a song?"
"No. I mean, yes, it is a song, but it's a thing, too."
"I don't think so."
"Yes. It is. It's a thing. You get a scratch from a cat and all the nasty things in its claws get in your skin and you get an infection. It's totally a thing."
He shook his head.
"No." He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked at it, smashed his finger against the touchscreen a couple of times, and then threw it onto the bed with a frustrated growl. "Still no connection."
"Yes, because if you are in a place with spotty wi-fi the only thing that could possibly make it better is a few feet of snow." I walked toward the bathroom. "Come on."
"Come where?"
"You couldn't prove me wrong about the turkey scratch fever, so that means I'm right and you're getting that thing cleaned."
"What is this, a game of Clue?"
"Yes. Yes, it is, and right now it's going to be Mr. Green in the bathroom with the bar of soap."
"OK, that's gross. I don't ever want to play a board game with you."
"Damn. One of my life's ambitions destroyed."
Graham walked toward me with a distasteful look on his face.
"Why Mr. Green?"
"What?" I asked as I picked up one of the washcloths from the stack on the metal shelf hanging over the toilet.
"You went right for Mr. Green."
"Well," I said, thinking about it while I rinsed the cloth under the faucet. "It made sense. Holly. Green. Mr. Green."
"Why not Miss Scarlet?"
"Because my name isn't Holly Berry."
"We wouldn't want to confuse logic or anything."
He stopped at the doorway to the bathroom and watched me rinse another washcloth under the water and then rub the first cloth with the soap.
"Take your shirt off," I commanded.
Chapter Seven
Graham
I tried not to notice Holly's eyes trailing down my chest as I took off my shirt and set it on the miniscule bathroom counter. It was difficult, though, to ignore those eyes, the stunning green orbs that had caught my attention the first time that I saw them and kept coming back into my mind, no matter how infuriating it was to deal with the woman herself.
"So how does it feel to know that you got your ass kicked by both a girl and a bird on the same day?"
I felt the muscles of my jaw tense, but I tried not to show it. I didn't want to give Holly the satisfaction of knowing how much the events of the morning so far had pissed me off. I stepped forward into the bathroom.
"I'm not entirely convinced that you could refer to that person as a girl," I said. "She was almost as big as I am."
Holly looked at me with an expression of disgust.
"That's mean," she said. "She can't help how tall she is."
"Well she can most certainly help if she runs across the room and body slams me to the floor. "
"She was trying to help me. She had no idea what was going on. How was she supposed to know whether I was in danger or not?"
"Yes," I said, "because clearly if I wanted to attack you, the best place to do it would be in a crowded motel breakfast room."
"Stranger things have happened," Holly said. She picked up one of the wash cloths off of the counter and turned to me. "This is probably going to sting a little bit," she said.
She reached forward with the washcloth and pressed it to my chest. I hissed as the soap on the cloth stung in the cut that the turkey had made in my skin. It hadn't hurt much when it happened, but it burned like hell now and I had the sudden image of Day standing out back behind the main building turning out bars of soap made with lye for the motel. Holly looked at me with a teasing expression.
"Oh, don't be such a baby. It can't be that bad."
"Next time you get attacked by turkey, I'll remind you of that."
"I can't honestly say that I ever have been attacked by a turkey, and I most certainly don't plan on ever being attacked by one."
"It's not like it was one of my life plans," I pointed out.
I hissed again as she wiped up my scratch again and took a step back from her.
"Exactly how deep are you trying to clean" I asked her. "I don't think that the turkey got down to the bone."
"All right," she said, " I'm almost done. Just let me rinse this off."
She picked up the other washcloth and wiped it over the cut. I tried to ignore the way my stomach muscles tightened in response to her touch. She put the washcloth down and I noticed her looking around the bathroom.
"What are you looking for?"
"Bandages," she said.
"I don't think that those are standard motel amenities," I told her. "And if they are, it's probably not the kind of motel that you want to stay in."
"Maybe Day has some at the front counter," Holly said.
She walked out of the bathroom into the main room and picked up the phone. I heard her call to the front desk and ask for bandages. She thanked Day and hung up, then turned to me.
"She says that she has some up there and that you can come and get them."
"Seriously? You want me to walk through two and a half feet of snow to a motel lobby just to get some bandages?"
Holly gave a dramatic sigh and stomped over to the shoes that she had sitting next to the door.
"Fine," she said. "I'll go get them. But I'm taking the key with me. This better not be some sort of ploy to try to steal the room."
"Yes," I said, "because clearly if I wanted to fake an injury to get you out of the room the first thing that would come to mind is an attack by a turkey."
Holly opened the door and took a step out of the room, but before she closed the door all the way she peeked back in.
"You better not put the deadbolt on while I'm gone. Unless, of course, you're afraid that the turkey is going to come back to finish you."
The door closed, and I looked around the room. I hadn't had much opportunity to investigate it the night before and now that I was alone in it I was seeing just how simple it really was. The sparse furniture looked old and worn. The Murphy bed that had tried to flatten Holly felt like a relic from another time and the TV perched atop the tall dresser reminded me of the afternoons that I used to spend with my grandmother. It was nothing like the hotels that I was accustomed to. In fact, this entire room could probably fit into the bathrooms of many of the rooms that I stayed in. Yet there was something about it that I liked. It wasn't pretentious. It didn't look like every detail was crafted to impress me. Instead, it was like the people that I had met so far; honest, up front, and unapologetically what it was.