“Why did they have your wallet?”
Had the Children of the Corn lifted it?He hadn’t seen them anywhere close to him, and anyway, they were kids—could they evendoa lift that smooth?All he said, though, was “Great question.”
Tean was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’m glad you found it.”
“Yeah, me too.”But the bubble of good humor had popped.He glanced around the lobby.“Where the hell is she?”
“Maybe Gerald needed her.”
“He’s old, Tean, but he’s not decrepit.”
“He had trouble standing.And he uses a cane.”When Jem flicked a look at him, Tean said, “It was hooked on the back of his chair.Maybe he needed help getting to their room.”
Jem didn’t say anything.
“Let’s go back to the bar,” Tean said.
Jem shook his head.
“I’ll grab you a drink.You stay here where it’s quieter.”
“No, I don’t want a drink.I want to get this fucking night over.I want to go home.”
Tean settled into an unhappy silence.
“Fuck this,” Jem said.“We’re going home.”
“I don’t mind waiting.”
“No, she’s dicking us around.”
“I’m sure she’s got a perfectly valid reason.Do you want to call her?”
“No, I don’t.I want to be a petty bitch.”But Jem got the phone out of his pocket and tried to place the call.It started to ring, and then it cut out.“No service—look, down to one bar.”
Tean nodded.
“I’m calling it,” Jem said.“Let’s go.”
This time, Tean didn’t protest, but sometimes he had a way of disagreeing silently, politely, and unrelentingly.Like maybe you thought Scipio would enjoy a dinner that was all treats—not every night, but once in a while, on special occasions.And you and Tean had talked about it, like, alot, and he’d told you all the reasons it wasn’t a good idea, and finally he stopped talking about it, but youknewhe didn’t want Scipio to have an upset stomach, and you had to put most of the treats back in the pantry even though it made Scipio sad.
When they stepped outside, the storm had gotten worse: wind whipped under the porte cochere, grabbing at Jem’s jacket, teasing Tean’s hair into a cloud.When the wind slowed, the thickly falling snow drifted in white curtains, and when the wind picked up again, the fluffy flakes turned into gritty crystals that stung Jem’s cheeks.
The valet emerged from a booth, and Jem held out his claim ticket.
Already shaking his head, the valet said, “I’m sorry, sir.We’re closed for the evening.”
“What do you mean you’re closed?”Jem glanced at the ticket, but the print was too small, and it was hard to read.“We need our car.”
“No cars, sir.I’m very sorry.Not tonight.”The valet must have read the mixture of confusion and frustration on Jem’s face, though, because he added, “The roads are closed, sir.On account of the storm.No one’s leaving the lodge tonight.”
6
When Tean got off the phone, Jem was still inspecting the room they’d managed to book.
“This pillow is the shit,” Jem said, fluffing it for emphasis.“Squish this.See for yourself.”
“Hannah’s going over to get Scipio.She says it’s only flurries in the valley.”
