Alex rushed past me to go up onto the porch.
“After you,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm.
He flung open the door, and I followed him into the receptionarea of the lodge and I might be the least romantic person to ever walk the planet, but right away I could see that the lodge, at least this part of it, was cozy. There was even a fire in the river rock fireplace, and two young ladies in flannel shirts standing behind the wooden reception desk.
They looked at each other as we approached with expressions that seemed to sayUh oh, be on the alert. But that’s not what they said.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” said one. Her badge saidLisa, and she had long dark hair.
“Lisa,” said Alex in a commanding way as he laid a gold-tipped black credit card down on the glass-topped counter. “We need two rooms. The state trooper said the road is closed and that you might have rooms for us.”
He said all this as if he was quite confident that the state trooper with Christmas lights on his brown trooper hat had actually taken the time to phone ahead for us. In a perfect world, maybe, not this one.
But before I could add anything to this brusque request of Alex’s, Lisa shook her head of dark hair and looked sad. And, I might add, she did not seem impressed with that black credit card. The card Royce had given me was also gold-tipped, but it was dark blue, and I was willing to whip it out if Alex’s card was at its limit. Then we could engage in a little credit car war.
“We only have one room, I’m afraid,” she said. “So, if you don’t mind sharing.”
“Actually, we only have acabin,” said the other young lady. Her badge saidMarge, and she had her hair in a bun. “Number 7. It’s the furthest from the main lodge, but it’s all we have.”
“You’re right,” said Lisa. “It’s got a queen sized bed, and a little fireplace.”
“What about food?” I asked. Now that I was warming up, my hands began to ache a little, and my stomach had becomealerted to the fact that someone was roasting something that my nose could not identify, but which smelled very good.
Alex spared me a glare as if I’d been bothering him all day with my food demands and had just gotten on his last nerve.
As Lisa took Alex’s credit card, I realized he’d won the battle of the credit card, but what did I care? The gals gave us two room keys. Real ones, old, brass. Cool, right?
Then Lisa handed Alex a laminated card with directions to Cabin 7. I had to go on my toes to look over Alex’s arm to see any of this.
“The parking lot is paved all the way back,” said Lisa. “And there’s a reserved spot for your car.”
“We’ve got a restaurant and a little convenience store and a small bar, right down that hallway there,” said Margie. “We’re limited on what we have, but we make a mean roast chicken. Can I make a reservation for you two?”
Alex was all over this information, like the corporate Boy Scout he seemed to be. Which left me waiting, holding the car keys whilehedecided which timewewould eat.
When we finally walk out into the cold, trudging back to the car, Alex was reaching into the pocket of his thin city coat. But when he brought out his phone, even from a distance, I could tell the glass was cracked and that the phone would ping no more.
Old me wouldn’t have given a shit, but new me made a sympathetic sound.
“Bummer.” I was pretty sure Alex could afford a new phone every month for the rest of his life, but he looked pretty stricken as he clenched the phone in his hand.
The snow had let up a little by the time we got back into the Volvo. When I started the engine, which purred right to life, he said, “Can I borrow your phone?”
I never loaned anyone my phone, always thinking theywould fuck it up, you know? But new me handed it over and watched him enter a number and hold the phone to his ear.
He had nice hands. Recently manicured. His movements were fluid, not that I was staring, but because I was driving and he was on the phone, there was no way that I couldn’t listen in to the call.
I imagined he’d be calling some floozy or other that he had waiting for him in Steamboat, so I was surprised to see his face soften when someone on the other end answered.
It was a short drive to Cabin 7, but it was just the two of us in that car, so I could hear every word.
“Mom, it’s Alex. I’m okay, but I wrecked my rental?—”
I could hear the gasp at the other end, and then Alex explained how he’d been rescued, and who I was, blah, blah, blah. Then the conversation turned more informative, at least in a one-sided way.
“Did Lottie bring the baby?”
“Tell Tim he shouldn’t wait to go skiing?—”
