connection with another kid that kept to himself. He and Luke Evans had something in common, what that was, was anyone’s guess. Matt Grant, the local deputy sheriff, and her father-in-law had suggested pot. She hoped not, but she wasn’t going to put it by him.
Luke was the complete opposite of Jason. He wore black gothic clothing and listened to ear-bleeding music. The four times he had shown up on their doorstep looking for Jason he was never once without earphones jammed into his ears or gum snapping in his mouth. His appearance was a stark difference to his single mother, Shelly, who was on the board with the town council. She dressed impeccably, and had found it hard to cope since Luke’s jerk of a father went off with a younger, much slimmer, tourist. As much as any mother would have recommended not letting him spend so much time with Luke, she knew that approach rarely worked.
Moving quickly across the gravel driveway, she glanced up at the roof, expecting the worst. New shingles covered ten of the twelve rooms that she had available. While her guest was in one of the shingled rooms, she was still worried about the water stain on the carpet. Patrick said there was likely a flashing problem, and the water was still making its way in. He’d said he’d have to tear up the work he’d completed. She felt that was just another excuse to extract more money out of her and keep the job running longer than it should have. But he was adamant that it was because water travels. Either way, it had caused her untold stress, and the thought of losing her only customer was just adding to it.
She tapped on his door. From inside she heard his dog bark, then a rustling sound. When the door cracked open, she could see that he wasn’t fully dressed. His shirt was off.
“Oh…um…”
She tried not to stare. He gave a small smirk.
“I hope…um…” She stumbled over her words. “Everything’s to your liking?”
He opened the door wider to give her a clear shot of the small metal trashcan taken from the washroom. It was positioned perfectly over the stain. Water dripped slowly down into it, pinging each time it hit.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. The guy was supposed to have fixed the roofing. I thought by placing you in the shingled one you wouldn’t get any issues. But, uh…”
He shrugged. “It’s okay, I’ve been in worse.”
Well that was a first , she thought. Her last group of guests complained about everything, and they had been dry.
“Worse?”
Where the heck had he been?
“You want to come in?” he asked.
“Actually I was just about to get some tarps on the roof.”
“By yourself?”
She nodded. He glanced past her.
“Where’s your son?”
She motioned in the direction of the road, as if it even made any sense. “He’s visiting a friend.”
He swiveled around. “Well, I’ll give you a hand then.”
She flung her hands up. “Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Listen, I haven’t got anything else to do and…” He looked back at the water dripping through.
“No, really, I’ll have this done in a jiffy. I’m really sorry about the inconvenience. Once I’ve checked the other rooms, I’ll move you into another.”
She took a few steps back and stumbled, feeling even more ridiculous.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She tried her best to not look like a total buffoon, but she knew that train had left the station.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes. Go back inside.”
He cocked his head with a slight smile, one that she could have looked at for hours. “Alright…if you insist.”
* * *
A fter checking the other rooms and noting that three of them were leaking—the others were fine, at least for now—Dana hauled up several rolls of plastic tarp left beside the construction material and lugged it over to the far end where the shingles were off. She dumped them on the ground and hurried back, water pouring off her hood, to retrieve a large ladder from the side of the motel. Patrick,
Luke was the complete opposite of Jason. He wore black gothic clothing and listened to ear-bleeding music. The four times he had shown up on their doorstep looking for Jason he was never once without earphones jammed into his ears or gum snapping in his mouth. His appearance was a stark difference to his single mother, Shelly, who was on the board with the town council. She dressed impeccably, and had found it hard to cope since Luke’s jerk of a father went off with a younger, much slimmer, tourist. As much as any mother would have recommended not letting him spend so much time with Luke, she knew that approach rarely worked.
Moving quickly across the gravel driveway, she glanced up at the roof, expecting the worst. New shingles covered ten of the twelve rooms that she had available. While her guest was in one of the shingled rooms, she was still worried about the water stain on the carpet. Patrick said there was likely a flashing problem, and the water was still making its way in. He’d said he’d have to tear up the work he’d completed. She felt that was just another excuse to extract more money out of her and keep the job running longer than it should have. But he was adamant that it was because water travels. Either way, it had caused her untold stress, and the thought of losing her only customer was just adding to it.
She tapped on his door. From inside she heard his dog bark, then a rustling sound. When the door cracked open, she could see that he wasn’t fully dressed. His shirt was off.
“Oh…um…”
She tried not to stare. He gave a small smirk.
“I hope…um…” She stumbled over her words. “Everything’s to your liking?”
He opened the door wider to give her a clear shot of the small metal trashcan taken from the washroom. It was positioned perfectly over the stain. Water dripped slowly down into it, pinging each time it hit.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. The guy was supposed to have fixed the roofing. I thought by placing you in the shingled one you wouldn’t get any issues. But, uh…”
He shrugged. “It’s okay, I’ve been in worse.”
Well that was a first , she thought. Her last group of guests complained about everything, and they had been dry.
“Worse?”
Where the heck had he been?
“You want to come in?” he asked.
“Actually I was just about to get some tarps on the roof.”
“By yourself?”
She nodded. He glanced past her.
“Where’s your son?”
She motioned in the direction of the road, as if it even made any sense. “He’s visiting a friend.”
He swiveled around. “Well, I’ll give you a hand then.”
She flung her hands up. “Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Listen, I haven’t got anything else to do and…” He looked back at the water dripping through.
“No, really, I’ll have this done in a jiffy. I’m really sorry about the inconvenience. Once I’ve checked the other rooms, I’ll move you into another.”
She took a few steps back and stumbled, feeling even more ridiculous.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She tried her best to not look like a total buffoon, but she knew that train had left the station.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes. Go back inside.”
He cocked his head with a slight smile, one that she could have looked at for hours. “Alright…if you insist.”
* * *
A fter checking the other rooms and noting that three of them were leaking—the others were fine, at least for now—Dana hauled up several rolls of plastic tarp left beside the construction material and lugged it over to the far end where the shingles were off. She dumped them on the ground and hurried back, water pouring off her hood, to retrieve a large ladder from the side of the motel. Patrick,
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