“Huh?” I asked, leaning forward to get a better look out the windshield.
“This isthe fanciest place to stay in Lakeview, Addie. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m totally fine. I was just clarifying.”
“Hm-mmm,” Dylan mumbled.
I forced my snobbishness away, certain the place was clean, which was the most important thing at the moment. Once Dylan parked the car, I plastered on a big smile and climbed out.
“Let’s leave the luggage until we’re checked in,” Dylan suggested.
“Of course,” I said. “Why would we take it?”
Dylan stalled. “Um, Addie, we’re going to have to drag your fifty-two bags up to the room, so we should probably find out where said room is before we do that.”
I gaped at her. “Wehave to take it to our room?”
“Yes. Who else would?”
“Um...hello...the bellhop maybe?”
Dylan bent over and started to laugh hysterically. I realized I might have toadmit I was a little out of my depth here. “Oh, bite me, Dylan. Let’s just check in.”
I followed my bestie monster (bonster...mestie) into the ho...motel and was delighted to discover they took credit cards. For a minute, I was nervous I was going to have to plop down cash and pay by the hour. Dylan pulled her wallet out of her purse, but I shook my head. “Business expense. I’ve got this.”
I was glad she didn’t even attempt to argue. I was too tired to fight. And I was suddenly depressed again. Luckily, I’d brought a case of my favorite wine just in case I needed to drink myself to sleep. I knew I’d need something to force me into a comatose state, because the weight on my chest was killing me. I missed Jake. A lot.
“Here’s your card,” the reception clerk said, and slid it acrossthe desk.
“Thanks, ah”—I glanced at her name tag—“Molly.”
“No problem. You have adjoining rooms. Just go right out that door, hang a left, and you’ll be the third and fourth room on the ground floor. Enjoy your stay.”
“Hey, what’s with the train tracks?” Dylan asked.
Molly looked Dylan over. “I know you. You’re Chad James’s kid, right?”
Dylan shuffled her feet.
“Yeah, I remember you. Iused to be Molly Burns. My little brother Nolan was in your grade.”
Dylan nodded. “I remember Nolan. How is he?”
“He married Jessica Lentz, and they popped out a couple of kids before she got all messed up on meth and cheated on him with the electrician. They divorced a few months ago.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. And did you hear about Beth Ludaker? She’s on meth, too, and—”
“Actually, wejust drove down from Portland and I’m exhausted. We’ll have to catch up later,” Dylan said, shuffling me toward the door.
“Will you know everyone here?” I asked.
“Most likely.” She groaned. “And they will all want to fill me in on the latest gossip and let me know who the newest meth-heads are. She never did answer my question about the train tracks, but I amnotgoing back in there.”
Wewalked back to the car and drove around to the rooms, parking directly in front of my door. I backed in and we easily wheeled (no dragging necessary) my bags inside. Granted, Dylan had to help me, but she did it with very little complaining. Almost.
“Exactly why do you need so many bags?” she asked for the umpteenth time.
