Renting to Own

by Linda Rettstatt

  Lily spoke loudly to the baby, announcing her return to the room. “That’s better. It’s been a while since I changed a diaper. I almost forgot boys are different from girls.”

  Rick guffawed, and Lily felt heat rise in her face. “I meant you have to be careful with a diaper change or you may get anointed.”

  “He gets me at least once a day.” Joyce laughed. “I’m going to check on dinner. Rick, would you get Lily something to drink, please? Oh, and Uncle Henry canceled. Seems he got a better offer from a woman at the nursing home.”

  “That’s Uncle Henry.” He smiled at Lily. “You’ll have to meet him next time. He’s quite a ladies’ man. Be right back.” He left and returned with two glasses of wine.

  Feet pounded down the stairs and a blur raced across the room to Rick. “Hey, Uncle Rick. Look at my new racer.”

  Rick set his wineglass down just in time to avoid a spill as the boy launched himself into Rick’s lap. “That’s great. Remote control? You’ll have to show me after dinner. Danny, this is my friend, Lily.”

  The boy regarded her for a moment. “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “Well, she’s a girl and we’re friends.”

  Lily grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny. Your Uncle Rick told me all about you.”

  The boy moved to her side. “What’d he say?”

  “Oh, well, he told me how smart you are.”

  Danny grinned. Lily saw Rick in the boy’s face and imagined what Rick’s son might look like, if he had one.

  Joyce called that dinner was ready. Rick ushered Lily to the dining room, held her chair while she sat, then settled Chelsea between them. Danny jockeyed for the seat on the other side of his uncle.

  Dinner was everything Lily had longed for in childhood—family stories, good-natured teasing, and chaos. Cliff went to the kitchen and returned to the dining table with pie, announcing, “The snow’s starting to come down hard. Hope you brought your PJs.”

  Lily bit her lip and looked to the window.

  “I guess that’s our cue. Lily’s worried about getting home in the snow, so we’d better be going.” Rick stood.

  “Wait a minute. I’ll pack some leftovers for you to take.” Joyce hurried to the kitchen and returned with a brown paper bag filled with plastic containers. “The pie’s on top, so don’t set anything on this.”

  A few inches of snow already covered the car, but brushed off easily as Rick cleared the windows.

  “I hope this doesn’t get worse as we head south.” Lily stared at the steadily falling flakes.

  “It won’t. It’s always heavier up here by the lake. I’ll take my time. Don’t worry.”

  Her muscles tensed as he backed the car from the drive and the tail end slid.

  “The highways will be clearer than these side streets,” he reassured her.

  The snowflakes multiplied, and the wind picked up in velocity. It took two hours for them to travel forty-five miles. The wipers whapped rapidly, but the snow accumulated in an icy mix around the windshield.

  She dug her fingers into the seat. “Look out!”

  Rick maneuvered the car around a jack-knifed tractor-trailer. At the next exit, he put on the turn signal.

  “Where are we going?” Lily asked.

  “We have to get off this road. It’s a sheet of ice. I’m going to look for a restaurant or a motel.”

  “Motel?”

  “We can’t stay in the car all night, and we’re not going to make it home in this.”

  She pointed to a sign barely visible through the blizzard. “That sign says there’s a motel a half-mile down the road.”

  “Great.” He exhaled, and Lily realized he’d been holding his breath. Her palms began to perspire. She’d been relatively fine as long as he seemed to be confident.

  The orange and white light of the motel blinked in the distance. A truck came toward them, sliding across the invisible centerline. Rick cut the wheel sharply to the right and the car skidded. He eased into the skid, but the wheels had no traction. The car slid into a ditch and jerked to a stop. The shoulder harness pulled taut against Lily’s chest and her breath caught.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I think so. Chelsea?” Lily fumbled with the seatbelt, trying to disengage it.

  Rick looked back. “She’s fine, Lily. She’s asleep. Kid sleeps like a rock.” He got out of the car and bent down. Opening the door again, he stuck his head inside. “The tire’s blown, and I’m not sure whether the wheel’s damaged. We’re gonna have to walk to the motel. You bring the food and Chelsea’s things. I’ll carry her.”

  “Maybe just the pie. The rest of the food will be better here in the cold over night.” She dumped the cookies from the tin, fished the pie from the bag and placed it inside.

  Chelsea wakened and rubbed her eyes. “Are we home, Mommy?”

  “No, baby. We have to walk down the road to the motel. Rick’s going to carry you. I’ll bring your Barbies and backpack.”

  “How come?”

  “We slid off the road, and the tire’s flat.” She stepped out of the car and snow covered her shoes, the cold biting her ankles. “Damn.” She released Chelsea’s belt. “You go across the seat to Rick. The snow’s too deep over here.”

  Rick popped the trunk and retrieved a flashlight. “Can you carry the flashlight in your left hand, so anyone crazy enough to be driving in this will see us? I’ll take Chelsea and the backpack. Here’s a blanket to put over her.”

  Lily hadn’t dressed for winter hiking, and her hands and feet were numb by the time they reached the Midway Motor Inn. She wondered what they were midway between. Big rigs and several cars filled the parking lot. Rick set Chelsea down and trudged inside to the desk, stomping snow from his shoes.

  “Hello?” He rang the bell on the counter.

  “Hold your horses.” An older woman came through a door behind the desk. Her hair in large pink foam rollers, she wrapped a fleece floor-length robe and tied it securely. “Help you folks?”

  “We need a couple of rooms,” Rick said.

  “Nope.”

  “Nope? What do you mean—nope? It’s a blizzard out there, and our car’s out of commission.”

  “Only have one room available. It has two beds.”

  “We’ll take it.” He fished his wallet out of his pocket and produced a credit card.

  Lily cleared her throat and, when he looked at her, she raised her eyebrows.

  “Lily, it’s the only room. I can assure you, I won’t attack. Everything’s frozen. And I do mean everything.” He signed the charge slip and accepted the room key. “Thank you. Is there anywhere to get something hot to drink?”

  “Coffee machine in the breakfast room over there. Hot chocolate, too. You’d best get it now, though. We’re filled, so I’m gonna lock up and turn off the lights.”

  Lily made hot chocolate for Chelsea, while Rick prepared two cups of coffee and grabbed three plastic forks from a container on the breakfast bar. They shuffled along the icy outdoor corridor to their room.

  The dingy room smelled of stale cigarettes and something Lily tried hard not to identify. She flipped on the bathroom light and inspected for cleanliness. It passed—barely.

  “What are you doing?” Rick asked.

  “I’m checking to see if it’s clean.”

  “And if it’s not? We’re kind of stuck here for tonight, in case you hadn’t noticed. Here, drink this while it’s hot. I’m going to have pie.”

  “How can you eat right now?”

  He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “I’m hungry, and I’m freezing. Where the hel…the heck’s the thermostat?” He located the dial mounted on the wall. “Hmmph. It says it’s seventy-eight in here. You’ve gotta be kidding me. Guess we’ll just have to huddle together for body heat.”

  Lily’s jaw dropped open.

  “I’m joking. You and Chelsea take one bed, and I’ll take the other. You two can have the extra blankets. I’m cold blooded.” />
  That explains a lot. Lily removed her coat and shook off water droplets before hanging it on the wooden hanger attached to a metal bar on the wall.

  Chelsea sat at the small round table, still bundled in her jacket, and sipping her hot chocolate. “I want some pie, too.”

  “Okay. You and Rick have pie. I’m going to take a hot shower and thaw out. My feet are numb.” She looked down at her sopping wet shoes—designed for fashion, not weather.

  The off-white tub looked less than appealing. She looked around the tiny bathroom. No tub mat. She placed one of the hand towels in the tub to stand on while she showered. The washcloths and towels were small and scratchy but appeared to be clean. The hot water pounded her scalp and stung her feet as they thawed. She dressed again, realizing she’d have to go barefoot while her socks and shoes dried out. Ugh, I hate this. I don’t know what’s on this floor.

  She opened the bathroom door and sprinted on her toes to the bed.

  Rick looked up from his pie. “Something chasing you?”

  “I don’t like to walk barefoot on strange floors.”

  “Oh.” He accepted her answer and returned to his dessert.

  “Chels, do you want to take a shower and warm up?” Lily asked.

  “I’m warm. I want to watch TV.”

  Rick stood and tossed the empty Styrofoam cup into the wastebasket. “I guess it’s my turn.” He disappeared into the mist that still hung in the air from Lily’s shower.

  Lily turned down the bed and inspected the sheets. Discolored, but clean. She tried not to look too closely. “Here you go, kiddo. Which side do you want?”

  Chelsea removed her jacket, climbed up on the bed and dropped her shoes on the floor. “I didn’t brush my teeth.”

  “You don’t have a toothbrush. We weren’t planning to stay overnight. It’ll be okay for one night.”

  “I have to pee.”

  “You’ll have to wait until Rick’s finished in the shower.” She stacked a few pillows behind the child and pulled up the faded blankets. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Uh-huh.” Chelsea picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

  Lily tiptoed across the room to drape her saturated socks on the heater, in hopes they’d dry out. Rick emerged from the shower, shirtless. His wet hair glistened, and the renegade lock fell down on his forehead. Muscles that normally remained hidden beneath his business suits were now displayed. Lily’s breath caught, her eyes riveted to his chest.

  “Mommy?”

  “Huh?”

  “What are those people doing?”

  Lily followed her daughter’s gaze to the TV screen where a couple engaged in vigorous sex.

  “Omigod. Where’s the remote?”

  Rick reached out and hit the off button on the front of the TV.

  “What were they doing?” the child asked again.

  “They—uh—they were—uh,” Lily stammered.

  “They were wrestling,” Rick said casually. He picked up the remote. “Let me see if I can find something interesting.” A grin broadened across his face, and he winked at Lily. Her face warmed. He turned on the TV and quickly changed the channel, surfing until he found a Disney movie. “Here. This should be suitable.”

  Chelsea used the bathroom and returned to snuggle under the covers next to Lily. Half an hour later, the lights flickered, then everything went black.

  “Oh, crap. The power’s out,” Lily said.

  “Looks that way. Chelsea okay?” The timbre of his voice in the darkened room vibrated through her.

  “She fell asleep ten minutes ago.” Lily punched and shaped her pillow. “Well, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Lily.”

  Rick’s steady, low snoring soon rumbled from the other bed. Lily smiled, finding the sound oddly comforting. She pulled Chelsea against her and draped an arm around her narrow shoulders.

  *

  Lily wakened with a jolt. Something banged against the wall behind her head. She looked over at Rick who sat upright in his bed. “What is that?” she whispered.

  “Listen.”

  Bam. Squeak. Bam. Squeak. “Oh, God. Yes.” Bam. Bam. Bam. “I’m coming.” Bam. Squeak. Bam. “No. Not ye-et.”

  Lily rested a hand on Chelsea’s exposed ear. “They’re going to wake up the entire motel.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s their first concern.”

  Bam. Squeak. Bam. Bam. “Yes. Yes. Now, baby.”

  Silence.

  Lily sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Thank God.”

  Rick snickered. “It should be quiet now, for at least a little while.”

  Lily settled down again and pulled the covers over her shoulder. “I thought people only yelled like that in the movies,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Lily floated in a dream. She was six years old and her friend, Patty, came to play. The two of them had climbed onto her bed and began to bounce, as if on a trampoline. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Her father had called up the stairs, “What’s going on up there?” The girls stilled, and Lily had answered, “It’s not me.”

  “Lily?”

  “What? It’s not…” She opened her eyes, but the sound effects continued. “Oh, for the love of…”

  A low chuckle drifted from the other bed. “You kept saying it wasn’t you. I kind of knew that, though.”

  Her face burned. “I was dreaming.”

  “Must have been quite a dream.”

  Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. “Yes. Yes, oooooh.”

  Lily sat up and groaned. “It wasn’t that kind of dream. I was six, and my friend and I were jumping on the bed.” She turned at stared at the wall. “Are they going to do this all night?”

  “If they do, I have to talk with that guy before we leave here.”

  Chelsea rolled over and mumbled, “Mommy, what’s that noise?”

  “The people next door are having a party. Try to go back to sleep.”

  “Why is that lady yelling ‘yes’? Are they playing a game?”

  She ignored Rick’s snort. “Yes, they are. Don’t pay any attention to them. They should stop soon. Very soon.”

  Bam. Bam. Squeak. Squeak. “Yeeeessss!”

  “One of them must have scored,” Chelsea said.

  Rick’s hearty laugh rippled across the room like a wave rolling to shore. “I think maybe they both did.”

  “Rick!”

  “Sorry. The party’s over now. Goodnight, ladies.” His bed groaned as he settled back into it.

  “G’night, Rick. Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay. Come on.” Lily slipped out of bed and set Chelsea on the floor in front of her, guiding her by the dim light that crept under the door. The power had, apparently, been restored. She switched on the light and closed the bathroom door, blinded by the glare. “Okay, honey. Go ahead.”

  Chelsea used the toilet and flushed, then stood at the sink to wash her hands. She looked up at Lily with furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes shifted from Lily’s face to a spot above her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a spider.”

  “Where?” Lily shivered. She hated spiders. She turned and looked up at the ceiling. No spider.

  “Not up there. There,” Chelsea pointed. “On your hair.”

  Lily shrieked and frantically swatted at her head. “Is it gone? Did I get it? Where’d it go?”

  “It’s gone, I think.”

  Rick’s voice penetrated the door. “Everything okay in there?”

  “Mommy’s got a spider in her hair.” She opened the door. “She’s ’fraid of ’em.”

  Lily stood at the mirror, frantically fingering her hair in search of the arachnid.

  “Here, let me look.” Rick stepped past Chelsea and stood behind Lily, smiling at her in the mirror. “Don’t like spiders, huh?”

  “I hate them. Do you see it?”

  He tugged at a lock of hair and tossed the wriggling insect into the sink
.

  “Ooooh.” Lily shuddered and turned on the water. The spider went kicking and, she imagined, screaming, down the drain.

  Rick set a hand on each of her shoulders. “You’re safe. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’d like to use the facilities.”

  “Oh, sorry. Come on, Chels. Let’s get back to bed.” She turned Chelsea around and nudged her across the room.

  The imprint of his hands burned on her shoulders, as though he’d followed to tuck her in. The lingering heat, combined with the earlier sound effects from the next room, caused a flutter deep in her middle. Feelings she usually kept locked down burst free and swirled inside her like a hundred tiny butterflies. Lily lay down, hugged Chelsea close and prayed for morning.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lily woke to find Rick’s bed empty. She went to the window and looked outside. A white sheen coated the parking lot, trees, and vehicles. Rick emerged from the bathroom. “I’m going to see about getting the car out of that ditch. I’ll bring back hot drinks and some food.”

  “Thanks. Be careful out there.” She checked her socks and shoes. They were dry, the shoes puckered and discolored. She pulled on the warm socks and forced her feet into the stiffened leather. Returning to the window, she watched Rick trudge across the snow-covered parking lot. A truck with a plow on the front turned off the road and into the lot. Rick waved it down and talked to the driver.

  Chelsea stirred and Lily turned. “Good morning, sweetie.”

  The child blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Where are we?”

  “We’re at a motel, remember?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Rick’s going to bring something back after he checks on the car. Why don’t you take a nice, warm shower?”

  “I want a bath.”

  Lily thought of the discolored tub and God knows what lurking on its surface. “I think a shower would be better this time. Okay? I’ll help you. Come on.”

  By the time she had towel-dried Chelsea’s hair, Rick was back. He had three steaming cups of hot drinks on the table, three small cartons of orange juice, and paper plates filled with donuts and bagels. A Styrofoam bowl and plastic spoon sat at one place with a small box of cereal and a carton of milk. He smiled at Chelsea. “Good morning, Princess. Your breakfast is served.”