“Thanks so much, Ruth,” I said as I took the bag. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you hirin’ me.” I grinned. “And yeah, I said you. I know I wouldn’t have been here tonight if not for you.”
“Ah,” she said with a smile. “Max would have put it together if we’d given him a few more minutes. Can you come in a little before noon tomorrow? We open for lunch then, although I’ll warn you that it’s pretty slow. Not much business and the tips suck, but Lula was supposed to cover it and I have plans. Max’ll let you read or do whatever while you’re sitting around during the downtime.”
“I’m happy to do it,” I said. “And I can work a double if need be. I need the money, and I’ve got nothing else to do. I’d much prefer working to sitting around.”
“Why don’t you plan on it,” she said as her smile spread. “I’m really gonna like workin’ with you. Lula’s sweet, but damn that girl’s a slacker.” She grabbed my coat off the hook and handed it to me. “I’ll be in around five tomorrow, but Max and Bitty can help out if you feel overwhelmed.”
“Thanks, Ruth.”
I slipped my coat on as I walked into the dining area, finding Max standing at the shade-covered windows, peeking out through the closed blinds.
He turned when he heard me approach. “You got a warmer coat than that?”
The answer was no, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated to get me something warmer. I glanced down at my heavy fleece jacket. “This should be enough to walk across the street.”
“There’s a dusting of snow on the ground, but the wind has kicked up. It looks cold.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said as I reached him. “You don’t have to carry my suitcase, Max.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, opening the front door. “I’m walkin’ over with you anyway.”
I walked out, shivering from the blast of cold. He shut the door behind us and motioned to the L-shaped brick building across the street and catty-corner to the tavern. The street was covered with a fine layer of snow, with drifts several inches high along the front of what looked like a vacant motel office. A faded piece of paper with curling edges had been taped to the window, with All inquiries go to Max’s Tavern handwritten in black Sharpie. The wind was blowing the snow off the street and into the first barrier it came across. I noticed there weren’t any houses around, just businesses.
“You don’t need to lock up?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m coming back.” He nodded to the tavern. “I live upstairs. Comes in handy when we run on a bare-bones crew.”
“I can’t believe you kept up with all those drinks tonight,” I said.
“Practice,” he said with a laugh. “And as you noticed, most guys order beer. Those are easy enough to pour.”
“I was surprised every single one of them paid cash.”
“That’s because they’d prefer to deal in cash since we don’t have a bank up here except for the payday loan place, and it only cashes checks. I like ’em payin’ in cash so I don’t have to deal with the credit card fees. More profit.”
That made sense, but most of the world dealt in electronic transfers of money. It was like they were fifty years behind the times. Then a new concern hit me. “Does Wyatt only take cash? I don’t have that much on me.”
“Last I heard, he takes cards, but like I said, most folks around here don’t use ’em.”
Since Ruth had said a good portion of the guys had done time, I had to wonder where the cash was coming from.
None of my concern.
“Ruth told me that you and your brother aren’t very friendly,” I said, worried I was about to cross a line. “I hope I didn’t cause any more trouble between you two.”
“You weren’t the cause of our disagreement tonight,” he said, steering me across the motel parking lot. A couple of cars were parked in front of the units closer to the street, one of them a rusted brown and white station wagon that had to be thirty or forty years old. Max headed toward the rooms at the opposite end. “He’s had a beef with me for a while now, and him showin’ up was a long time comin’.” He paused, then said, “I don’t think Wyatt was really after your paycheck. I think he was just lookin’ for an excuse to come in and confront me, and you were as good an excuse as any.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
“For what it’s worth,” he added, leading me past the very old, beat-up cars, “I seriously doubt he would have taken your money if I’d let him. Like I said, he was lookin’ for some kind of excuse.”
“Thanks.” There was no doubt that Wyatt didn’t trust me, but I saw little point in saying so. “Ruth asked me to come in and cover Lula’s lunch shift tomorrow,” I said, intentionally changing the subject. “I told her I could work tomorrow night too.”
“Sounds good,” Max said as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a key attached to a large plastic disk that bore the number 20 in faded blue ink. “I really appreciate you fillin’ in, although I have to warn you that the rest of the week won’t be nearly as lucrative as Monday nights.”
I hoped to God I’d be gone by then. “I didn’t expect it to be, and anything’s better than nothing. It’s a win-win for both of us.” I gave him a wry smile. “Three of us if you include your brother and the money I’m going to owe him.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement.
He stopped in front of the last door on the right. Two rusted house numbers—2, 0—had been nailed into the door. I watched as Max unlocked the door, opened it, and reached inside to flick on the light switch. Without entering the room, he set my bag down inside the doorway. “We open at noon tomorrow, but there’s no need to come in much earlier than that. We don’t get much of a lunch crowd on a Tuesday afternoon, so if you’ve got something to keep you busy during the downtime, feel free to bring it.”
“Thanks, Max,” I said gratefully, taking the key from him.
“See you tomorrow, Carly.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I walked in and closed the door behind me, locking it as I got my first look at the room.
Ruth had been right. It was bad. Really bad. Worn green shag carpet that looked so old and threadbare I could see the fiber-backing in a few patches. The walls were covered with thin wood paneling riddled with scratches and dents, particularly behind the wooden headboard for the full-size bed. I cringed as I thought about what had made those marks while staring at the polyester bedspread covered in faded yellow and orange flowers. The furniture must have come from the 1970s—heavy dark pieces that looked like they’d been cheap in their time and hadn’t been treated well. Half the drawers in the dresser were catawampus, and one of the nightstands was missing a drawer completely. A TV sat on top of the dresser, but it was a large monstrosity that had to be at least twenty years old, and I had to wonder if it worked. I grabbed a remote from in front of it and flicked it on to check. To my surprise it turned on.
Ruth had suggested that Max needed to buy new sheets, but I would have suggested a total gut job. Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t asked for the rates. My only reassurance that Max wouldn’t try to gouge me was the fact he’d gone out of his way to ease me in with his customers tonight. Someone that nice wouldn’t try to overcharge me for a disgusting motel room, would he? I’d ask him tomorrow, because there wasn’t anything I could do about it now. I literally had nowhere else to go.