stories to hash over. Ain’t that right, Jacko?”
Jack grinned. “Right on, Ray.”
I stepped out of the office and took a deep breath of hot, stale air. I expected life to be prettier, fresher, and more exciting here than back home. Jack seemed different, too. Back in Serenity, he’d been so sure of himself. Now he acted like a little kid and looked at Ray as if he idolized him. Dragging our stuff to the room, I thought that, so far, Florida had been nothing but one big disappointment.
***
Jack and I quickly settled into a routine at the motel. I changed the linens, vacuumed, and cleaned the bathrooms in all the motel rooms except Room 8. Ray said that the girl in Room 8 did her own cleaning. I straightened up Ray’s office. He showed me how to record the room fees left in the lockbox and deposit the money. Jack slept until mid-day and lounged around the pool with Ray in the afternoons. Ray went home to his wife every night. But he obviously didn’t tackle that to-do list at home since he spent the afternoons drinking beer and getting stoned with Jack.
Jack was always kind to me and continued to shower me with compliments. We went our separate ways, even in the beginning our marriage. I felt like we were roommates rather than a married couple. When I pushed the laundry cart along the breezeway, Jack would call out, “There’s my lovely lady! Ain’t she somethin’, Ray?”
Ray would typically toss back a brew and say, “She sure is, my man!”
I felt like Jack’s compliments weren’t made for my benefit but were intended for the other people who heard them.
Three months later, we had almost gone through the six hundred dollars that I brought with us. Contrary to what Jack had told me, the summer heat faded into mild, fall weather. Jack spent more time watching game shows on the old, black-and-white TV in our room.
I sat next to him on the bed. “How you doing, Jack?”
Jack took a drag from his cigarette. “Fantabulous, Babe. Just fantabulous!”
“Well, I wanted to let you know that the money we brought with us is almost gone.”
Jack took a swig from the beer can. “That’s your department, Baby. I ain’t good with dough. It doesn’t stick to my fingers like it should.”
Jack nudged me and laughed. “Get it? Dough, stick to my fingers? Sometimes I crack myself up!”
I chuckled, half-heartedly. “Sure, I get it. Look, I think that one of us should get a job.”
Jack shot me a puzzled look. “Whatta ya mean? We have a job, right here.”
“Yeah, I know. But that’s just to pay the rent. And the extra forty dollars a month barely covers your cigarettes. We still have to eat and buy stuff.”
Jack’s pretty green eyes gave me their best puppy dog look. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Babe. I’ll be needing a fresh supply of stash soon. Got any ideas?”
“Well, I could get a job at the Waffle Stop up on the bypass.”
Jack got up, kissed me on the forehead, and headed for the door. “You’re the boss, my lady. Check ya later.”
I watched the door close behind him. Jack lived in his own world and didn’t seem to be too concerned about our money problems. He was kind to me but unapproachable at times. From that moment on, I knew that it was up to me to make my own way in the world.
The Girl in Room 8
The next week, I started waiting tables at the Waffle Stop next to the truck stop on I-95. The Waffle Stop wasn’t much bigger than the Bluebird, but it was open twenty-four hours a day and very busy. I started on the night shift from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. Most of the customers were truckers, and I got used to being called names like Shug and Hon. I learned to rake the change off the end of the table and ignore their s tares, complaints, and insults.
A couple of weeks after I started, a young girl walked in. I’d never seen a girl there, only men from the truck stop. Her body was trim, but shapely. Her long, straight hair was bright yellow like Miss Ruby’s back in Serenity.
Jack grinned. “Right on, Ray.”
I stepped out of the office and took a deep breath of hot, stale air. I expected life to be prettier, fresher, and more exciting here than back home. Jack seemed different, too. Back in Serenity, he’d been so sure of himself. Now he acted like a little kid and looked at Ray as if he idolized him. Dragging our stuff to the room, I thought that, so far, Florida had been nothing but one big disappointment.
***
Jack and I quickly settled into a routine at the motel. I changed the linens, vacuumed, and cleaned the bathrooms in all the motel rooms except Room 8. Ray said that the girl in Room 8 did her own cleaning. I straightened up Ray’s office. He showed me how to record the room fees left in the lockbox and deposit the money. Jack slept until mid-day and lounged around the pool with Ray in the afternoons. Ray went home to his wife every night. But he obviously didn’t tackle that to-do list at home since he spent the afternoons drinking beer and getting stoned with Jack.
Jack was always kind to me and continued to shower me with compliments. We went our separate ways, even in the beginning our marriage. I felt like we were roommates rather than a married couple. When I pushed the laundry cart along the breezeway, Jack would call out, “There’s my lovely lady! Ain’t she somethin’, Ray?”
Ray would typically toss back a brew and say, “She sure is, my man!”
I felt like Jack’s compliments weren’t made for my benefit but were intended for the other people who heard them.
Three months later, we had almost gone through the six hundred dollars that I brought with us. Contrary to what Jack had told me, the summer heat faded into mild, fall weather. Jack spent more time watching game shows on the old, black-and-white TV in our room.
I sat next to him on the bed. “How you doing, Jack?”
Jack took a drag from his cigarette. “Fantabulous, Babe. Just fantabulous!”
“Well, I wanted to let you know that the money we brought with us is almost gone.”
Jack took a swig from the beer can. “That’s your department, Baby. I ain’t good with dough. It doesn’t stick to my fingers like it should.”
Jack nudged me and laughed. “Get it? Dough, stick to my fingers? Sometimes I crack myself up!”
I chuckled, half-heartedly. “Sure, I get it. Look, I think that one of us should get a job.”
Jack shot me a puzzled look. “Whatta ya mean? We have a job, right here.”
“Yeah, I know. But that’s just to pay the rent. And the extra forty dollars a month barely covers your cigarettes. We still have to eat and buy stuff.”
Jack’s pretty green eyes gave me their best puppy dog look. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Babe. I’ll be needing a fresh supply of stash soon. Got any ideas?”
“Well, I could get a job at the Waffle Stop up on the bypass.”
Jack got up, kissed me on the forehead, and headed for the door. “You’re the boss, my lady. Check ya later.”
I watched the door close behind him. Jack lived in his own world and didn’t seem to be too concerned about our money problems. He was kind to me but unapproachable at times. From that moment on, I knew that it was up to me to make my own way in the world.
The Girl in Room 8
The next week, I started waiting tables at the Waffle Stop next to the truck stop on I-95. The Waffle Stop wasn’t much bigger than the Bluebird, but it was open twenty-four hours a day and very busy. I started on the night shift from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. Most of the customers were truckers, and I got used to being called names like Shug and Hon. I learned to rake the change off the end of the table and ignore their s tares, complaints, and insults.
A couple of weeks after I started, a young girl walked in. I’d never seen a girl there, only men from the truck stop. Her body was trim, but shapely. Her long, straight hair was bright yellow like Miss Ruby’s back in Serenity.
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