But no worries. So much of the year was light work that when things got busier, it seemed like a fair exchange.
My next stop of the day loomed in the distance. The Mates Motel, one of my favorite places. Bennett, the owner, kept things the way his late father had them. Maybe a little too much so, in that it could use some updating on the outside, but overall, it was a cozy, comfy spot where guests felt welcome and some stayed on far longer than a few days.
Pulling into the lot, I went into the back of the truck to organize the next several deliveries before loading some of the boxes for the Mates Motel onto my handcart. They had a lot of supplies today. Paper products, cleaning things, and I didn’t know what all, but it was a definite restock.
“Can I give you a hand with that?” I turned to find Geoff, the maintenance guy from the motel, behind me. “Scared ya?”
“No, but I’ll gladly accept a hand. Looks like you’ve been doing some shopping.”
“I’ll grab my dolly. Give me just a minute.” He darted off toward his workshop at high speed, leaving me waiting, so Iclimbed back onto the truck and pulled the rest of their order, setting them on the ground next to the steps. Geoff was a great guy, always eager to lend a hand, but from what I heard, his skill level left something to be desired. His boss, Bennett, was too goodhearted not to keep him on, even though he often had to hire professionals to redo his work. To be fair, I understood he was only getting a free room and a minimal salary to work a few hours a week—but maybe that was for the best.
Everyone here, including the head of housekeeping had hilarious stories about the maintenance guy. The best one was when he’d somehow managed to caulk a shower stall so that when a guest got in, it wouldn’t open. Apparently the caulk and extra-strong glue looked remarkably similar.
No one was hurt, but the guest—who hadn’t paid their bill in a month—left in a huff.
Again…for the best.
Geoff came rushing back and we loaded his handcart and trundled off side by side with the boxes, having a great conversation about who had checked in recently. The Mates Motel sure got a lot of characters!
I wouldn’t trade my job for one that paid twice as much.
Chapter Three
Rain
“We’ve been trying to get in touch with you, Rain. To update you on the status of your claim.”
The person on the other end of the phone call was just doing their job, but I really didn’t want to explain to one more person that my house had burned to the ground.
“Is there an update that is more updated than the email I received three minutes ago?” I asked, a twinge of snark in my tone, on purpose, of course.
“No, there isn’t. We call to make sure you’re clear about what was in the email.”
Oh, boy. This was beyond ridiculous. “I understand that the house is a total loss, especially since I watched it burn in front of me, and I was present when the lightning strike hit it. I paid the policy in full so I also understand that the insurance will cover the cost to rebuild the house.”
The agent on the other end cleared their throat. “Yes. That’s it. And we also cover a place to stay while your home is being rebuilt, so please upload your receipts once a week to the claims website so we can reimburse you.”
Thank goodness I was a person who had the means to pay for a hotel and get repaid. Some people didn’t. I was lucky I’d put my backpack in the car only minutes before the disaster. “I understand. Is there anything else?”
“No. That is all. Thank you for being insured with us.”
I sighed, shoving the phone into my back pocket. I’d spent one night in a chain hotel but, after that one night, they were booked solid. There was only one chain hotel in the town, some rental homes, a few inns, and a motel that looked on the outside how I felt on the inside.
That was my issue now, finding a place to stay. I also needed to order some personal items and have them delivered, but that was a little difficult when I didn’t have a house to deliver them to.
I leaned against my car and scrubbed my hands down my face. I could go to the next city, but then I would be two hours away from my former home. If there were decisions to be made or the contractor needed me for something, I would have to travel two hours each way to get to him. That wouldn’t be any fun for either of us. I wanted to be as close to my property as possible. Even though the house had burned, I felt a tie to the land I’d never felt before.
I glanced across the street at the one-story motel. It hadn’t been pressure washed in ages, and the flowers in the beds were artificial and their color dulled by the blaring sun. The concrete was painted cream with some rust-colored accents. Its sign was missing one of the Ms, but it was called the Mates Motel. Was it a play on the infamous Bates Hotel? I shuddered at the thought, but I had no room to be choosy.
I got in the car and drove across the street and parked in front of the office. I knew that because of the buzzing, glitched-out neon sign that readofficepropped inside the window. Inside, I could see the display of maps and touristy brochures every hotel and motel had. No time like the present.
Backpack in hand, I walked into the office, not surprised at all by the jingle above the door.
“What can I do you for?” The man at the desk barely looked up from his crossword puzzle. His glasses down on the end of his nose, and he filled in the newspaper puzzle with one of those rectangular contractor pencils. When I was younger, I used one for my math homework. It was my dad’s and he sharpened it for me with his pocketknife. In my mind, I could hear him shaving the sides of it even to this day.
“I need a room for a few weeks if you have one. Maybe months. Who knows.”
Instead of consulting a computer or a phone, the man pulled out a huge leather ledger and regarded it and then me, then the book again. “I can set you up for a few months in room six.”
