B004K6MHSI EBOK

by Daniels, Valmore

  “You’re not so—”

  She put up a hand to stop me.

  “We are. But that’s not what I wanted to say. Things have started to pick up again. We’re finally shifting back to normal. Who knows, we might even have a little left over this year.”

  “That’s great, Aunt Martha.” I furrowed my brow, wondering how long it would take her to make her way completely around the bush before she finally came to the point.

  “Well, working long hours seven days a week is taking its toll. And … well … we’re getting tired. Running a motel is a lot of work for two old fogies like us.”

  She needed to take another deep breath before she looked me in the eye.

  “We’ve been talking about selling,” she said finally.

  “Oh?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, wasn’t sure I had the right to feel one way or another about it. For as long as I could remember, the Lazy Z had been like a mainstay for our family. Although only related by marriage, my mother and Aunt Martha were closer than most sisters were, and when I was young they wouldn’t go more than a day without visiting, so I was always over here. I think I spent more time playing in the parking lot and the field behind the motel than I did in my own backyard.

  “But the market is still soft right now. We’d lose our shirts. We just can’t sell this year; maybe not even next year. In the meantime, let’s just say we probably wouldn’t want to hire the sort of person who would take the salary we could afford to pay. Rock and a hard place. The Lazy Z has been in the family for fifty years. Edward is taking it as a personal failure that we’re faced with this.”

  “Is there anything I can do? Anything?”

  Aunt Martha wrung her hands again, as if expecting the worst. “Yes, there is.”

  I nodded once, firmly. “Name it.”

  “Stay on. Work the motel. Like I said, we can’t pay you much. Oh, Lord, I feel like I’m taking advantage of you for this.”

  I had so many conflicting thoughts at that point; I didn’t know what to say first.

  “That’s what I wanted in the first place: To stay here and help out. But Uncle Edward said—”

  Aunt Martha waved her hand. “Edward is as stubborn as an ass. He needs to get over himself. Life’s too short. He knows deep in his heart it was an accident, what happened to his sister and Robert. He’s just being ornery. Can you forgive him?”

  “Forgive him? Of course, Aunt Martha. And I would love to stay and help out.”

  She threw her arms around me and gave me a noisy kiss on the cheek. “You won’t regret this, Darcy.”

  For the first time that day, I felt my heart swell with hope. Leave it to Aunt Martha to make the person responsible for the deaths of her in-laws welcome in her home.

  “I’m just glad I can help.”

  “Edward’s in the office,” she said. “I told him to apologize to you, though if you get a grunt out of him you’re doing better than I am.”

  I shook my head. “I really don’t need an apology, but I’ll go see him right away.”

  “Listen,” she said. “I want you to feel at home here. I know the room isn’t much, but it’s yours for as long as you like.”

  “That’s far too generous. You have to let me pay my own way.”

  She waved her hand. “Pish-posh. I’m just so happy you’re back.”

  Aunt Martha beamed a wide smile at me and I suddenly felt much better about myself. She hugged me again, and I didn’t want her to ever let go.

  “Me too, Aunt Martha. Me too.”

  Chapter Six

  Uncle Edward and my mother could have passed as twins, though nearly five years separated them. Both were tall and spare, almost willowy. They had narrow jaws, high cheekbones and slightly protruding chins. Both were fair complexioned, but that’s where the similarity ended.

  Eleanor Johnson—Ellie to her friends and family—was a free spirit. She refused to cut her hair, and by the time she was an adult, her flaxen locks hung down to her hips. She would occasionally wear it in a braid, but her preferred style was to leave it loose. Uncle Edward had never changed his hairstyle from the day he left the military; as far back as I could remember, he had always sported a crew cut which he would get trimmed at least once every two weeks.

  Eleanor explored art and literature; she loved crafts and antiques. At any given point in her life, she had at least one adopted pet—a stray cat, a wounded bird, a lost dog; and once she even brought home a lost bear cub (which apparently caused quite a stir in the Johnson household that day).

  Uncle Edward went straight into business courses in Flagstaff and, once he returned to Middleton, gradually ensconced himself in the day to day operations of the Lazy Z, assuming as much responsibility as his father would dole out until the day my grandfather had his second heart attack and decided it was time to retire.

  My mother never wanted anything to do with running a business, and was more than happy to let her brother take over the Lazy Z. When Uncle Edward and Ellie were old enough, Uncle Edward got the motel and my mother got the large family house for their inheritance. My grandparents relocated to a cabin on the edge of some property they owned outside town, where they lived out their remaining days.

  My mother loved to tell me about how my father had changed her life. When it came to marriage, she would never have tied the knot—she was such a wild spirit—if she hadn’t met her soul mate in my father the summer after high school graduation.

  She was waitressing in Fresno while staying at her great aunt’s when she met Robert Anderson on a hike with her cousins. A biologist, he was monitoring migratory patterns of the native bird population for the University of Sacramento, and the two of them hit it off famously. By the end of that summer, Ellie had come back home to Middleton freshly engaged. Robert transferred to Northern Arizona University, and I arrived a little under a year later.

  My mother told me once she never thought her brother would ever get married, not because Uncle Edward didn’t want to, but more because of his naturally abrasive personality. None of the local girls wanted anything to do with him, except for one. It took someone like Aunt Martha to see past the gruff exterior and spot the loyal, hardworking, and devoted person beneath. Rumor had it that she had proposed to him—something of a scandal back in those days.

  Unfortunately, marriage never softened Uncle Edward, and even his own family had difficulty spending more than a few hours at a time with him.

  Growing up, I can’t say I had ever held more than a one-sentence conversation with him; but now, standing outside the front office of the Lazy Z in the morning sun, my hair still wet against my back from my morning shower, he had my undivided attention.

  I walked a step behind Uncle Edward, who frequently pointed his finger like a gun while taking me through the orientation—as if I had never spent a thousand days at the motel.

  His voice dripped with impatience. “Right there’s the electrical room, in case you need to throw a breaker back on. Dumb-ass power company out here. Everything goes dead in a storm, and we get interruptions even on a clear day.”

  Reaching out, he rattled the door knob, and glanced at me pointedly.

  “Always make sure it’s locked. Check it twenty times a day if you have to. Every time you walk by, check it. Don’t want some punk kid sneaking in there to smoke dope.”

  “Got it.” I nodded affirmatively.

  Uncle Edward shuffled down to the next room. He paused and made a show of producing a key from a retractable karabiner hooked to his belt loop. Jiggling the knob to prove to me it was locked, he proceeded to unlock it and threw open the door.

  “Maintenance and laundry room. All the cleaning carts and room supplies are in here. Light bulbs, toilet paper, what have you. Same thing: check the door every time you go past. Guests might think it’s a free-for-all on towels and soap, and those damned things cost a fortune.”

  I nodded again. “Got it.”

  Uncle Edward gave me a stern look. I kept my fac
e serious.

  He grunted before he continued on down the line of rooms to the end of the motel, not looking back, simply assuming I was following.

  Behind the building a length of pavement bordered a field of tall grass that stretched all the way to a gentle hill a hundred feet away. As a child, I used to love racing down there on my bike. Beyond the hill was Circle Lake, where we sometimes picnicked and fished.

  My uncle pointed toward the end of the motel. He said, “Back there is the trash bin. Keep it locked as well. Ranch folk will drive up here in the middle of the night and fill it up with their junk otherwise. We don’t need to be paying to haul someone else’s garbage.”

  “Uncle Edward, I want to thank you for giving me a chance. I know we’ve never seen eye to eye, and I know we’ve only gotten more distant over the past ten years, but I think…”

  I trailed off under his harsh glare.

  “I don’t give a hoot what you think, little girl,” he said. “I don’t need any help, no matter what Martha thinks. I only agreed to letting you stay and work the place out of respect for my sister’s memory. But I have just one condition for you, so let’s get this straight right here and right now. This is my motel and I’m the boss. You do what I say, when I say, and you don’t give me any sass. Otherwise, keep out of my way and I’ll keep out of yours. It pleases Martha that you’re here, and as they say, ‘happy wife, happy life.’ So as long as you work hard and be nice to your aunt, then everything will be right as rain. Clear?”

  “Crystal,” I replied.

  Uncle Edward watched my eyes a moment, as if that would tell him if I was mocking him. I wasn’t.

  He said, “Now shut up and let me finish giving you the grand tour.”

  I nodded. “You got it.”

  Uncle Edward gave me the rundown on every aspect of the motel business over the next few hours, and I hung on his every word.

  As the day progressed, I had the impression that he was somehow warming to me. At the same time, I experienced something I hadn’t felt in a decade.

  Despite his gruff exterior and harsh comments, I found myself admiring Uncle Edward. He had a strange kind of confidence in himself, and he came at the world in a no-nonsense manner that was very refreshing. No matter how abrasive and standoffish Uncle Edward was, he nevertheless had taken that step into accepting me as a part of his life.

  Uncle Edward had a lot of issues that I’m certain would never be resolved. As much as he and his sister differed, I knew they loved each other from how my mother had spoken of him, telling me stories of their youth, how they got into trouble together, and how Uncle Edward would rise to her defense whenever he felt Ellie’s honor was threatened.

  I knew I could never replace my mother in his heart, but from piecing together all the anecdotes and opinions I had ever heard about Uncle Edward, I was fairly sure there was another way. Uncle Edward valued hard work, loyalty, punctuality, practicality and honor.

  If I could earn his respect by mirroring his values and by working the motel without complaint, I would gladly suffer his hostility toward me.

  I was already miles ahead with Aunt Martha, who didn’t have a mean bone in her ample body; but I swore to myself that I wouldn’t take her or her generosity for granted. I had a lot of work in front of me, but I was all right with that. It was all worth it if I could finally turn my life around and get back on track.

  So, with that in mind, over the next couple of days, I immersed myself in the business. I worked the front counter, I helped Aunt Martha clean the rooms, and I even went so far as to organize Uncle Edward’s paperwork. He protested that everything was already where he could find it, and didn’t need rearranging; but even still, he didn’t stop me.

  After ten years away, I was finally home.

  Chapter Seven

  It was late evening nearing the end of my third work shift since returning home. I stared at a disordered mess of invoices scattered over the counter, some recent, some from previous years. How Uncle Edward ever managed to get by without a tax audit was beyond me. His accountant had to be a miracle worker.

  With an exasperated sigh, I began the slow and methodical task of sorting the invoices by company and date. Although I heard the evening bus pull up, I was so absorbed in my duties, I barely registered it. The front door chimed.

  At first I couldn’t focus when I glanced up, my eyes were so tight from the filing job. When I finally realized there was another person in the office, and settled my eyes on him, my breath caught in my throat.

  Wearing a pair of dark jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders, a very attractive man stood in front me, a wide smile on his face. Tanned and athletic, he could have easily been a model.

  “Uh, hello?” he said when I hadn’t yet spoken. I self-consciously brushed my hair back with my hands and mustered a smile.

  “Good evening. Welcome to the Lazy Z. May I help you?”

  “Yes, please,” he said with a warm smile. “Can you tell me what your room rates are?”

  “One ten a night in advance. Plus plus.”

  He cocked his head. “Plus plus?”

  “Plus tax. You know, hotel tax, sales tax.”

  “Ah.” He seemed to be considering his decision.

  “You here just for the night? We have discounts for longer stays?” One could only hope—

  He smiled. “Actually, I’m probably going to be in town for quite some time.”

  “Oh?”

  “Name’s Neil.” He stuck his hand out.

  I stared at it like an idiot for a moment, then caught myself and put mine out to shake his.

  “Uh, Darcy. How long is ‘a while’? A week … or so?”

  “Most likely permanently.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “How’s that?”

  “I work for the Denver Fire Department, and don’t get me wrong, it’s been great, but not much room for advancement. Do you know Hank Hrzinski?”

  “Chief Hrzinski? Yeah,” I said after a moment. Hank had been the one who’d dragged me from the fire. “He’s been here long as I can remember—since I was a kid.”

  “Well,” Neil said. “He and my chief knew each other from way back. About a month ago Hank called him up and said he was thinking about retiring and asked if there was anyone who might want the position. Together they pulled some strings with the town council here and, long story short, I got offered the job when he steps down next year. I’m here to learn the ropes until then.”

  “Well, congratulations.”

  He smiled with a hint of shyness. “Thanks.”

  I blurted, “So are you here on a house-hunting trip? —Oh, God, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I always hated how everyone in a small town knew your business, and here I am poking my big nose into yours.”

  Neil laughed. “Don’t worry about it. After spending nearly all my life in Denver, I think I would rather give up a little privacy knowing that your neighbors are at least taking an interest.” He shrugged. “The chief offered me a room at his place until I got settled, but I just couldn’t impose. I made tentative arrangements at a boarding house run by someone named Kathy Thornhill, but the room won’t be available for a few days.”

  I made a sour face, and Neil raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Listen,” I said. “We have a monthly rate for a room with a kitchenette. Probably a better rate than you’d get boarding at Kathy Thornhill’s place, and a good deal more privacy.”

  “Sounds great.” Neil smiled. “I’ll take the room.”

  Trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, I processed the check-in form and ran Neil’s credit card through for pre-authorization.

  “Say, is there any place I can get something to eat?” he asked.

  “Well, there’s the Finer Diner, but it closes at ten, except on weekends.” I glanced at the clock on the wall; it was a quarter to eleven. “Looks like you just missed it. You could try The Trough.”


  “The Trough?”

  “Country bar,” I explained. “It’s open till one every night and has a short order grill. At least you could get a plate of fries or wings or something. The owner—Jack Creel—is a bit of a grouch, but the food is good.”

  Neil made a face. “That’s all right. I’m not really in the mood for Hank Williams, Jr.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure they’ve updated their playlists in the last fifty years.” I handed him the form. “I’ll just get you to sign this.”

  While Neil signed, I grabbed the room key and plunked it down on the counter. “Room twelve on the right.”

  “Thanks. Mind if I grab some coffee?”

  I flicked my eyes to the coffee station, which I hadn’t yet tackled in my quest to organize the front office.

  With a gesture in that direction, I said, “It’s your funeral.”

  Neil laughed and slipped the room key into the front pocket of his jeans. He stepped over to the coffee counter and poured himself a Styrofoam cup of sludge. With a grimace, he stared at the coffee and said, “You weren’t kidding—”

  The front door swung open and three men entered, their faces dark with menace. My stomach suddenly clenched.

  Barry Burke was one of the largest men in Middleton, both in height and in width. Though well on his way to growing himself a good sized beer belly, there was no doubt underneath that layer of fat was a powerful man. It didn’t look like he had shaved in a few days, and when he spoke, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “Well ain’t this a kick in the crotch.” He said it in a loud voice intended for an audience. Both Troy and Frank laughed in appreciation. I knew them only too well. Troy Hartman was a little weasel of a man. I had forgotten all about his lecherous smile and hyena-like laugh. Frank Simmons, eyes dark and menacing, had a mean streak in him that had always left me with a chill. He lifted a half-empty bottle of beer to his mouth and tipped it back.

  From the coffee station, Neil glanced over.

  Frank barked at him, “What’re you looking at?”

  With a quick glance at me, Neil said, “Nothing. Just getting some coffee.”