I quickly pulled my foot back and stripped out of my stained jeans and T-shirt. “I don’t care about supper. I’m sleeping until it’s time to go to work in the morning.”
Even though it was winter and cold outside, I’d sweated so much during the day that my silk panties were stuck to me like they’d been rolled in maple syrup. The warm water beating down on my aching muscles was downright glorious. I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and dozed off. The next thing I knew, I was sliding down the wall. In a knee-jerk reaction, I straightened up, knocking over two bottles of shampoo sitting on the edge of the tub. I washed my hair and hoped I wouldn’t break any rules by using it. My own toiletries were still in my SUV, and there was no way I was going to get dressed back in my dirty clothing and go get them.
The towels stacked on a rack above the potty weren’t as fluffy or as big as the fancy monogrammed ones in the hotels, but they were a helluva lot better than those in the cheap motels that Frank and I stayed in during slow weeks. With a towel wrapped turban-style around my blond hair and another around my body, I picked up my dirty clothing and headed down the hallway.
That was when it dawned on me that everything else was in my suitcases. I didn’t have clean underwear or a nightshirt. I had two choices: sleep naked or put my dirty clothing back on.
Naked it is,I thought as I put everything I was holding into the washer, took a chance on what water temperature and cycle to use, and tossed in one of the pods.
“That all the clothing you have?” Rosalie asked.
“No, but I’m too tired to walk back outside to bring in my suitcases.”
“Toss me your keys, and I’ll drive your vehicle around here and bring in your stuff,” Scarlett said.
“They are in my purse on the counter—and thank you. I owe you one.”
“And I will collect,” Scarlett said with a grin.
Hours seemed to pass, but in reality, she rolled my two suitcases into the trailer in only a few minutes. “I noticed your gas tank was setting on empty, so I filled it up before I drove it around. Is this all you have?”
“Yes, other than a small lockbox, but it’s empty, so there’s no need to go back outside.” I rolled the suitcases down the narrow hallway and into a room even smaller than the cheap hotel I’d left behind less than twenty-four hours ago. How could my life have done a 180-degree turn so fast in such a short time?
Because you ignored Lady Luck,the pesky voice in my head whispered as I dropped the towels and dug through my larger suitcase to find a pair of underwear and a nightshirt. I pulled back the chenille bedspread and crawled beneath the cold sheets. There was no need to argue. Lady Luck was right: I should have listened.
Other than the light from a sliver of moon peeking through the slats of the window blinds, the room was dark when I opened my eyes. I’d lived in hotel rooms for more than a decade, so disorientation wasn’t anything new. Footsteps right outside in the hallway made me sit up and throw back the covers. Then I remembered where I was and fell back on the pillows.
Rattling noises in the kitchen and the smell of coffee wafting under the bedroom door brought me out of bed. Yesterday was New Year’s Day. I hoped the superstition Frank had taught me was wrong and that I wouldn’t be working in a café for the whole year.
I dressed in a clean pair of jeans, a T-shirt printed with the title of one of my favorite songs, “Brenda Put Your Bra On,” and my only pair of athletic shoes. Then I changed the shirt to one that had a happy face on it. I didn’t want to suffer the stinging wrath of Rosalie if I came out wearing something with a red bra on the front.
I made a stop by the bathroom and then went on down the hall to find the front part of the trailer empty. I poured a cup of coffee andheated the last of the black-eyed peas and a piece of corn bread in the microwave.
“Good morning,” Rosalie said as she came into the kitchen. “You must have been tired. You slept right through the afternoon and on through the night. Got to admit, you look a little better than you did yesterday. Your hair will have to be put up in a ponytail or twisted up like you had it yesterday. If an inspector dropped by, we would be in trouble. We’ve never had a complaint about a hair in the food, and we aren’t starting now.”
“Thank you. Sleep did me a world of good. Who made the coffee?” Five o’clock in the morning was the time that I usually went to my room and slept until I had to check out of the hotel.
Scarlett poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to Rosalie. “Rosie gets up every morning and makes coffee. We need it to wake up before we start the day. I truly believe that Matilda’s spirit didn’t go straight to heaven, but she left behind the bossy part for Rosie.”
Rosalie took a sip of coffee. “Be grateful for that. She knew you would need someone like me in your life, and it looks like Carla might need some direction, too. God has put her in the middle of nowhere so she can kick her gambling addiction.”
Addiction? I’m not addicted to anything—not drugs, liquor, sex, or even cigarettes. And who says I would want to give it up anyway if I was addicted? Dammit! I haven’t even been here a whole day yet, so don’t be preachin’ at me or making plans for my life.
Rosie shook her finger at me. “Don’t look at me that way. I know an obsession when I see it.”
“My gambling is a job. I do not use drugs. I do not smoke. I only have a shot of whiskey to celebrate winning,” I argued.
“That’s good to know, but I smelled smoke on you when you got to the Tumbleweed yesterday morning,” she fired back.
“Secondhand. Smoke hung in the air like fog at the place where I was playing poker the night before.”
“You better be telling her the truth,” Scarlett warned. “She will quit and move away if there’s liquor, cigarettes, or drugs ever found oneither of us. And she does not tolerate swearing, especially the f-bomb or using the Lord’s name in vain.”
“What about sex?” If I had to give up poker, I might resort to sex.
“What about it?” Scarlett asked.
“If I have a one-night stand or leave for a weekend romp, will she leave?”
