“Hello?” I say again, louder this time.
Still no answer. This place is making me uneasy. I wanted to find something out of the way, but this is a bit more isolated than I expected. Then again, the thought of having to run through the freezing rain back to my car isn’t too appealing.
“I’m here! Don’t leave! I’m coming!”
I whip my head around at the voice from behind me. A few seconds later, a man emerges from a back room, carrying a mop and a bucket. He smiles at me, revealing a slightly crooked left incisor. “Hey,” he says. “Sorry. I was in the back.”
“No worries.” I try to return his smile, but I’m too tired to put in the effort anymore.
He shifts the handle of the mop to his other hand. “So are you looking for a jump for your car or…？”
“Oh… no, I…” I look down at the bag that I had dropped beside me. “I was hoping to get a room for the night.”
He blinks at me, as if such a thing had never occurred to him. “You want a room?”
I frown. “Sorry, I thought this was a motel…”
“It is.” He scratches at his hair, which is the color of damp sand. He’s maybe mid-thirties and good-looking, but not in the same way as Derek used to be. Derek was lead actor kind of handsome, whereas this guy would get more of a supporting role. But he seems nice. Harmless. Like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. “We just don’t usually get many… But yes, we’ve got a room available. No problem.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Can you just…” He gestures over at the puddle of water on the floor. “I want to get this cleaned up before the floor gets damaged. Or more damaged.” He shakes his head. “Every time it rains, it starts leaking.”
My eyes stray up to the dark spot on the ceiling where the drops of water are coalescing. “But isn’t there another level above this one?”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “Right. It’s a mystery.”
He carries the bucket over to the puddle on the floor, then he dips the mop in the water. The puddle shrinks.
“Do you own this place?” I ask.
He nods. “Me and my wife do, yes.”
As he pushes the mop across the floor, I noticed the glint of a wedding band on his left hand. I look down at my own left hand and see the simple gold band still in place. All of a sudden, it feels like it’s burning my skin. I want to rip it off and throw it across the room.
“I’m Nick, by the way,” he says.
“Hi, Nick,” I say, but I don’t offer my own name. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.
Nick gives the mop one last shove across the floor, then rests it against the wall. He places the bucket in the place where the water is dripping down. I suppose that’s his makeshift solution.
Once he’s taken care of that, he goes behind the wooden counter. He leans his elbows on the counter as he looks at me. “So usually we charge fifty dollars a night. Is that okay?”
“Is cash all right?”
“But of course.” He rifles below the counter. “Are you planning to stay just for the night or longer?”
“Just the one night.” And maybe not even that long. “Am I the only person staying here?”
He hesitates. “No. We have another guest. But she’s more… long term.”
He doesn’t explain what that means, which is fine. I just want to feel like I’m not the only person in this semi-deserted motel. Yes, this guy seems harmless, but this is how scary campfire stories start. “What about you and your wife? Do you stay here?”
Nick shakes his head. “Nah. We live in that old house right behind the motel. But I’ll stick around for a while in case you need anything. I’ve got to fix that leak, anyway.”
He finally finds what he was looking for under the desk. It’s a sheet of paper, old enough that it’s turned stiff and yellow. It looks like some sort of information form for guests. He blows a layer of dust from the paper. “Would you fill this out for me?”
“Um, sure.”
I pick up the ballpoint pen on the desk, but my hand feels frozen. I don’t want to fill this out. I’ll have to falsify every piece of information here. Starting with my name.
At some point, I’ll have to shell out the money for a fake ID. But in the meantime, I should have a fake name to give people. Except what? It should be something common that rolls off the tongue. Nothing memorable.
Mary? Jennifer? Carol? My best friend in college was Kelly. That’s innocuous enough. So I scribble down the name Kelly.