Page 21 of The Stranger
When this night started, I never dreamed this would be where I ended up. Spending the night with a stranger who makes me feel so conflicted, stranded in the middle of nowhere in a motel without a working television and no cell phone service.
I close the door softly and slip my hands into my pockets, the snow crunching under my feet as I head for the parking lot.
I need to find a snack for my feral cat.
I pass through the parking lot and beyond the two cars, three including ours, that are still there. Ours is back away from the others, which are parked closer to the rooms than the office. My eyes flick to the three lighted windows, and I can’t help wondering about the two other people staying here. Are they families, perhaps? People whose holiday travel plans have been interrupted like mine have? Or maybe they’re traveling for work or some type of emergency.
A door opens to my right, and I turn my head to see the man and woman from earlier lingering in their doorway. He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and she leans forward, whispering something in his ear before he turns to face the parking lot.
When he does, his eyes land on me, and I realize I’ve been awkwardly spying on an intimate moment. Thankfully, rather than make it more awkward by calling me out on it, he lifts his hand in a half wave, then makes his way to the car. I wave back, turning away as he opens the door and leans inside, reaching for something.
I pass the other car, a gray Toyota, slowly, stumbling as my foot slides on a patch of ice hidden underneath the calf-deep snow. I wonder if I could convince Ernest to give us some of the cereal tonight. I know it’s meant to be for breakfast, but I can’t help thinking Tibby must be hungry. Especially after the traumatic night she had. And while I meant to get her food from the vending machine earlier, her dramatic exit meant she’d missed out on that. I offered her my M&M’s, but like I expected, she’d said she wasn’t hungry. Honestly, I’m not sure if she declined because she truly wasn’t hungry, because her pride wouldn’t let her, or because she suspected I’d drugged them.
Either way, finding her something to eat is at the top of my to-do list. There’s not much else to do anyway, so why not? A quick snack before bed might be just the thing she needs to finally open up.
The Toyota has a gym sticker on the back of it—one I haven’t heard of—and its plates are from out of state, same as mine and the white car.
We’re all traveling, and if the fact that the storm has yet to let up is any indication, we might all be here for a few days. I can only hope some of them thought to bring food and supplies, as I suspect what Ernie might have on hand is likely limited.
I push open the door to the lobby and step inside, the warmth of the room washing over me like a wave. I suck in a deep breath, looking around the room for any sign of food.
There is a small table on the far-left side of the room that has a few napkins lying on it and a stack of bowls, but nothing else. I suspect it’s where we’ll find food in the morning, but it doesn’t do any good tonight.
I ring the bell, feeling guilty for doing it. Surely he’ll understand these are special circumstances. If he wants, I’ll even pay for it. And I can go ahead and book Tibby her separate room if that’s what she’d prefer.
“Ernest?”
He must be a heavy sleeper.
Sleeps like the dead. Chills line my skin as the sentence passes through my mind, and I suddenly can’t get out of the lobby quick enough. It’s ridiculous, I know. Like running up the stairs toward your bedroom when you’ve turned off the light on the bottom floor just in case a killer is chasing you. Even still, I can’t help it.
I open the door, forgetting about the food for the night, and make my way back to the room. Back inside, I hear the water shutting off as I slip off my coat and drape it over my suitcase. I kick my boots off and place them next to the wall.
Desperate for warmth, I make my way back to the bed and pull the covers down, slipping under them as I yawn.
I listen as she shuffles around in the bathroom, trying my hardest not to think about the fact that she’s drying off and dressing just a few feet away from me.
My mind drifts, eyes closing.
I’m zoning out when the door opens, jolting me from what feels like a trance. I rub my eyes as she crosses the room, her dirty clothes tucked under her arm. She places them on the floor and gathers her wet hair in her hands, brushing it over one shoulder, then the next.
I wish I had a hairbrush to let her borrow, but it’s not like I have much need for one. I make a mental note to ask Ernest for a spare toothbrush in the morning for her. Once he’s had his apparent beauty rest.
“I went for a walk while you were showering.”
She quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, to try to get Ernest to wake up, but he didn’t. Sorry.”
She shrugs one shoulder. “It is what it is.”
“Are you hungry?” I sit up in bed as she makes her way back toward the bathroom.
She stops and turns around. “Why? Do you have food?”
“No.” I look down at my hands. “I thought you might be, so I was also going to ask Ernest for cereal, but I couldn’t wake him up. If you’re hungry, though, I could try again.” I don’t know why I’m offering. I desperately don’t want to try again, but I also feel like I would do anything to make sure she’s comfortable and safe. The protective feelings I have about her aren’t natural. I’m starting to think exhaustion is getting the best of me.
“I’m fine, Walker.” She sighs, disappearing into the bathroom and reappearing a few minutes later. “But thank you.” She avoids my eyes as she heads for the bed, pulling back the covers and adjusting the pillows. Just then, my eyes fall to her legs, at the red patch blooming on the gray of my sweatpants.