“No, I didn't. I told her I didn't know where you were.”
“Okay.”
“Where were you?”
“Just riding our skateboards.”
“Get your ass in here, young man!” Tess hollered.
“Looks like someone's in trouble,” said Allen.
Jacob slouched his shoulders, hung his head, and lumbered to his door.
The wine drinker from downstairs stepped into view. He was holding a glass of red wine. He held up his glass in a long-distance toast. “Hey, hey, Blue Eyes,” he said.
Allen nodded and presented his glass. “How you doin' today?”
“They're saying it's going to rain.”
“That's what they're saying.”
“Let me fill this glass and I'll be right up.”
Oh, joy.
Allen got up, went inside, and made himself another drink. When he exited his room, Wine Guy was walking toward him. Allen sat down and pointed to the chair Rose had vacated. “Have a seat.”
“Donnie Peppitone,” said the guy.
“Allen Crane,” Allen responded.
Donnie smiled big. “No need for the introduction, blue eyes, everyone in the building knows who you are.”
“They do, do they?”
“Yes, they do. Word spreads quickly here.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I arrived on August 15.”
“How long are you staying?”
Donnie turned his head and gazed over the railing at the ocean. “I may never leave,” he said sadly.
Allen sipped his drink. He knew he shouldn't ask, but that didn't stop him. “And why's that?”
“I have nothing to go home to.” A tear formed in the corner of Donnie's eye.
Crap! Why did I ask?
“He left me standing at the altar,” said Donnie.
Good God.
Donnie reached up and wiped his tears with his fingertips. “I couldn't believe it was happening to me. The organist began playing our song—'Born This Way.'”
“Lady Gaga, right?”
Donnie smiled through his tears and gave Allen's shoulder a playful shove. “Yesss! I didn't know you were woke, Blue Eyes.”
“I'm so woke I'm asleep. Go on.”
“Well, everyone stood. I turned to watch Evan walk down the aisle. I waited and waited. It was only seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Everything slowed down. The room began to spin. The organist stopped playing. The guests started whispering. The lights went out.”
“Someone forgot to pay the electrical bill?” Allen asked in jest. He knew it was an inappropriate remark, but it was the first thing that popped into his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. Then what happened?”
“I fainted.”
“Right there at the altar?”
“Yes. It's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me.”
“The fainting, or being abandoned at the altar?”
“Well, both, I guess.” Donnie's tears were drying, but he wiped his eyes again anyway.
Allen sipped his drink. He figured he could fit this story into a book somewhere at some time. Maybe even the one he was working on now. That's the beauty of being a writer; sometimes you write the story, sometimes others do it for you.
“What was his excuse?” Allen asked.
“I didn't hear from Evan until the next morning. He said he just wasn't ready.”
“And he couldn't have told you in the days leading up to the wedding?”
“I guess not.”
“Coward.”
“That's what I said. That afternoon, I climbed into my Mini Cooper and drove away. It took me six days to drive here.”
“From where?”
“Redwood City.”
“Where's that?”
“California.”
“Has he tried to contact you?”
“I have no idea. I threw my cell phone out the window about thirty miles outside of Albuquerque.”
Allen snorted. “He's probably worried.”
“Well, I should hope so.” Donnie tipped up his wine glass and finished what was inside. “Cowardly drama queen, that's what he is. Not ready to get married to me. Maybe I wasn't ready to get married to him. Did he ever think about that?”
Allen shrugged.
“Anyhoo, what brings you to town?” Donnie asked.
“Just thought a change of scenery might help.”
“Help? Are we suffering from a little writer's block?”
“You might say that.”
“Voices inside your head aren't speaking to you?”
“You might say that as well.”
“It'll work itself out. Trust me, I've seen it before. My second husband was a writer.”
“What was your first husband?”
“A woman.”
“Ya lost me.”
“I call my second husband my second because he's the second person I was married to. My first marriage was to a woman.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah, I was a bit confused back then.” Donnie brought the glass back to his lips and then remembered it was empty. “Looks like someone needs a refill.”
“All I have is tequila.”
“Oh my goodness, I do not drink tequila. It turns me into a whole different person.”
“Who's it turn you into?”
“Let's just say that after two shots of tequila I suddenly know what everyone's problem is, and I'm not afraid to tell them.” Donnie stood. “You'd better get writing, Blue Eyes, and I better get myself another drink.”
Donnie spun around and sashayed down the walkway toward the stairs. As he reached the doorway, he looked back over his shoulder and winked at Allen. Allen wished he had looked away before that happened, but he didn't. He felt his face redden just a little bit.
Great, he thought, now Donnie thinks I was checking out his ass as he walked away. He downed his drink.
“We had company, Frankie,” Allen said when he walked back into the room. “You didn't even come out and say hello.” He placed his glass in the sink. “I'm going to take these books over to Mildred. You staying here?”
Frankie barked.
“You want me to turn on the TV for you?”
Frankie barked again.
Allen picked up the remote control, turned on the television, and stopped flipping through the stations when he came to a rerun of Family Guy. “Hey,” said Allen, “it's the one where Peter has the epic fight with Ernie the giant chicken. This should be right up your alley, seeing as how you have a bird fetish.” He tossed the remote onto the bed. “Turn it if you want to watch something else.” He picked up Mildred's books, stuffed them in the same grocery bag she'd delivered them in, and walked outside, closing the door behind him.
Allen crossed the parking lot wondering what room Cam and Mildred were staying in. He crossed Long Sands Road and stepped into the front parking lot of the Grand View Inn. As he walked along the front of the building, he inspected the balconies. There was a Sponge Bob beach towel hanging over the first room’s railing. He figured neither Cam nor Mildred owned a Sponge Bob beach towel. Another balcony displayed flippers, a diving mask, and a couple boogie boards—probably not their room. He finally came to a second floor balcony with a red and white Sooners beach towel. Sitting on a plastic deck chair was a green ball cap.
That could be a John Deere hat, Allen thought. It must be their room.
Allen bent down, picked up a small stone, and tossed it underhand at the sliding glass door. He waited to see if anyone came to the door. When no one did, he tossed another one.
I bet Mildred is watching her soaps.
He tossed a third stone; this one was a little large. it smacked against the glass hard enough to make Allen cringe. He scanned his surrounds to make sure no one was watching. All six guys at the construction site were staring at him.
“I don't know what room they're in!” Allen called
out.
One guy shrugged, but that was about the only reaction out of them, and they went back to what they were doing.
Allen reached down to pick up one more stone.
“What the hell are you doing?” asked a man.
Allen dropped the stone and rose up. Standing on the balcony was a shirtless man. His hairy, keg-sized belly rested on the vinyl railing. The hair on his shoulders and arms was as dark and thick as the hair on his stomach.
“I'm looking for a friend of mine,” Allen explained.
“And you thought he was in my room?”
“I thought his room was your room.”
“This is room seventeen.”
“Okay.”
The guy no longer seemed irritated or angry. “What room is your friend in?”
“I don't know. His name is Cam Owens.”
“Old man? Wears a John Deere cap?”
“That's him.”
“The guy yanked his head to the right. “Next room down.”
“Thanks.”
“Don't mention it.” The big guy walked back through his slider.
Allen stooped to grab another stone.
“Allen?” asked Cam.
Allen dropped the stone and turned to see Cam and Mildred standing on the sidewalk.
“Oh, hey, guys,” said Allen. “I was just looking for you.”
“In the parking lot?” Cam asked.
“No, I was tossing pebbles at your window trying to get your attention.”
“Our room is the next one down.”
“I know that now. I have Mildred's books.”
Mildred's face lit up. “Oh, thank you so much,” she said, holding out her hand. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I'll treasure these, Allen.” Her voice cracked. Oh, I'm just a silly old sentimental thing.”
“Won't catch me arguin' with ya,” said Cam.
Allen walked to her and handed her the books.
“I'm going to run back upstairs and put these in the room, Cam.”
“I'll wait right here for ya,” Cam replied.
Mildred hurried down the sidewalk and around to the rear of the building.
“Your neighbor seems like nice guy,” Allen pointed out.
“Guy looks like a big fat werewolf, doesn't he?”
“I guess that's one way to describe him.”
“If you get up close to him, you can see he's got these fangs—pointed and everything.”
“I don't plan on getting that close to him. Where were you and Mildred heading?”
“We were gonna take a walk down the street and grab a cocktail and maybe a light lunch.”
Allen looked up at the dark clouds passing over. “They're saying it might rain.”
“They who?”
Allen shrugged. “Weather people, I guess.”
“That might scare me a bit if they ever knew what the heck they was talkin' about.”
“Yeah, I guess it seems like they are wrong more times than not.”
“Would ya care to join us?”
“No, thanks. I don't want to intrude.”
“Intrude's ass,” Cam shot back. “If you came along, it would give me someone to talk to.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Mildred demanded.
“Don't get all riled up, Mother. I just meant someone new to talk to. He turned to Allen. “What about it?”
“Yeah, okay. Let me run back to my room and take my dog out quick before we leave. I don't want him taking a crap on the floor.”
“You go right ahead. Me and Mildred'll get ourselves ready and meet you at the Sunrise directly.”
Cam and Mildred were crossing the street when Allen came back down with Frankie. Allen walked him to the grassy area between the street and parking lot.
“Let's make it quick, Frankie,” Allen said.
While he waited, Jacob exited his room and walked toward him. Jacob nodded and said “hey” to Cam and Mildred as he walked by them.
“Can I take him for a walk?” Jacob asked.
Allen handed the young boy the leash's loop handle. “Here, take him now.” Allen reached into his pocket and pulled out his room key. “Here, take my key. If you go in, make sure you close the door on your way out. If you go anywhere after, leave the key at the front desk or give it to your mom. I'll pick it up later.”
“Okay,” said Jacob, taking the key.
“What a good boy,” Mildred commented.
Jacob smiled at Mildred and took a seat on the picnic table bench, and waited for Frankie to do his business.
“Have you met the boy's parents?” Cam asked, as the trio made their way down Long Beach Avenue. “The dad works across the street on the seawall. Seems like a good guy, and a real hard worker.”
“They're from out of state,” Mildred added. “The family came up to Maine to be with him while he's working.”
“No matter where we go,” Cam said, “Mildred manages to stick her nose in everybody's business.”
“Oh, hush your mouth, you old fart. It's called makin' friends. You should try it sometime.”
“We see him riding his skateboard around with another boy—a local boy,” Cam said.
“That's his friend, Oliver,” Allen said, pointing west. “He lives a few streets over. I haven't met him yet.”
“How far we walkin'?” Mildred asked.
“Not terrible far,” said Cam. “Why. Your leg botherin' you already?”
“Nope, and it won't be—not with these new compression stockings.” Too late for Cam to stop her, she stopped and pulled up her dress and coquettishly turned her legs this way and that, modeling the stark white stockings. “Got 'em at the Walgreens here in town. Ain't they nice?”
Allen dutifully admired them. “Yes. Nice,” he said, wishing he had a fork to poke out his eyes.”
“Comfortable as all get-out,” Mildred declared, “and they hide my varicose veins.”
“Believe me, Allen,” Cam drawled out of the corner of his mouth, “you don't want to see those. Damn things look like a rattlesnake den.” He turned to Mildred. “Put your dress down, Mother, you're startin' to draw a crowd.”
The threesome strolled companionably along the busy street. In front of Stones Throw, Cam said, “Let's have a cocktail here, Mother.”
Allen inconspicuously looked around for Mya.
“The hostess here is a pretty girl,” said Cam.
“You don't say,” Allen responded.
“Yep. Real pretty … and real nice too. I'll introduce you to her. Who knows, maybe the two of you—”
“Leave the boy alone, Cam. I'm sure he's perfectly capable of meeting women without your help.”
Leave the boy alone, Allen thought. No one's referred to me as a boy in quite some time. Maybe I should always hang around with old people.
“I wonder where she is?” Cam remarked.
“Well, if it isn't the Owenses,” said Mya. She walked up behind them from the building next door. “And you brought Frankie's owner.”
“This here is Allen Crane,” Mildred said proudly, introducing her quasi-famous friend.
“Allen and I have already met,” said Mya. She leaned in. “He's been stalking me for the past few days.”
Cam and Mildred looked at Allen disapprovingly.
“I haven't been stalking her,” Allen explained. “She's joking.”
“Why didn't you say something when I told you about her?” Cam asked.
“I didn't know she was the pretty hostess you were talking about.”
“Maybe Allen doesn't think I'm pretty,” Mya said with an over-exaggerated frown.
“I do too—I mean … I uh—do you have a table for three?”
Mya glanced down at the seating chart on her podium. “I think I do.”
Allen pointed at the second-floor deck next door. “Can we sit up there?” he asked. “The view is better.”
“Oh, I didn't think you could see me from there,” Mya joked.
Cam and Mildred c
huckled.
“I can seat you up there,” Mya said, “but let's not have the same trouble we had last time.”
“Trouble?” Mildred asked. “What trouble?”
“Allen got into a fight,” said Mya, “and he almost killed a man.”
Mildred's hand went to her heart. “Oh, dear!” she gasped.
“I didn't almost kill anyone,” Allen assured her. “The guy had a slight heart … thing.”
“Like a heart attack?” Mildred asked.
“Well, yeah, but not the bad kind.” Allen looked at Cam. “The guys I was telling you about.”
“Is there a good kind of heart attack?” Mildred asked Mya.
Mya shrugged. “Dr. Allen Crane thinks so.”
Allen shook his head. “Can we just be seated, please?”
Mya snatched up three menus. “Do you need a children's menu for Allen?” she asked Cam.
Cam snickered again. “No, we'll let him order off the grown-up menu.”
“Right this way.” Mya led them across the alley and up the stairs to the deck. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect,” said Mildred.
“Wait,” Cam said. “Allen, will you be able see Mya from here?”
“Really?” Allen asked. “I gotta get it from you too?”
“I'm just yankin' your chain, boy.”
“Your server will be right over,” Mya said, and walked back across the alley, where a few more patrons were waiting.
“Pretty, ain't she?” Cam asked.
“Yes.”
“Keep it to yourself, ya dirty old man,” Mildred scolded.
“Yeah,” said Allen, “ya dirty old man.”
Chapter Ten
“Well, thanks for lunch,” Allen said, when they reached the Sunrise Motel parking lot. “but I wish you would have let me pay.”
“Nonsense,” said Cam. “We invited you.”
“And you signed those books for me,” Mildred added. “Thanks again for that.”
“Glad to do it.”
“She'll sell those autographed books on the eBay and make a fortune,” Cam said with a snort.
“I think the books are worth less after I sign them,” Allen said.
Cam slapped Allen on the back as he walked past him. “If ya feel like a drink and a stogie later, just throw a few rocks at my neighbor's door,” he said.
“Maybe it would be better if you gave me your cell phone number,” said Allen.
Cam picked up his pace. “Mother, give the boy my number—I gotta get to the toilet.”
The Maine Events Page 9
