Chapter Twenty-One

The smell of soup permeated the house. Blythe was yet again impressed by her son's culinary abilities. Greg ladled out four bowls. Once again Blythe prepared a tray. Then they heard shuffling footsteps. Sarah was wrapped in her robe, following her nose towards the aroma.

Greg smiled. "Feeling better?"

"A little." She slipped into a seat with anticipation.

Before the bowls were placed on the table, Joanne trudged in. She was suffering from some serious bed head and looked like death warmed over. It worried Greg a bit, but his mother and aunt seemed unfazed.

Greg sat across from her, keeping watch. She glanced up at him frequently catching him looking at her.

"I took some medication."

It sounded random and strangely out of place, but Greg knew the comment was directed to him.

"Evidently it's working." He wasn't sure why she felt a need to explain herself.

The rest of dinner was finished in silence. Greg wondered what he was going to do afterwards. Board games always led to boredom. Perhaps they could just sit around and commiserate. Nah, that's a recipe for suicide.

"I'm going back to bed. Thanks for dinner." Jo got up and shuffled back to her room, closing the door behind her.

Just by her departure, the atmosphere in the room lightened. "Cloudy with a chance of thunderstorms."

"Be nice, Greg. Not everyone can be as cheerful as you." Blythe shot him a warning look. She bid him to go rest while she cleaned up.

Greg sat in the living room, staring out the windows over the canyon. He was tired, but amazingly not more sore. He felt at ease, relaxed knowing the patients were on the mend.

Blythe finished the dishes, then joined her son. "Dinner was delicious. Thank you."

"De nada."

"What are you thinking?" She sat next to her son looking out the window presumably at what he was looking at.

"Just concerned. Jo seems out of it."

"It's stress. She's got a lot on her mind with the holiday and all."

"Did she take her medication when you brought her the tea earlier?"

"How did you know?"

"Her mood improved."

"Maybe it was the soup."

"Probably because I loaded it up with anti-depressants. Now we can all be happy," Greg said snidely.

"You must be tired, you're getting cranky."

"I'm always cranky."

"Should I take you back to the hotel?"

"Yeah. That would probably be best. Tomorrow's another day."

Greg stopped in to say goodnight to his aunt.

"Thank you, Greg. The soup was amazing. I'm feeling better already."

"I'm going to head out."

"Don't go on account of me," Sarah pleaded.

"You're not the only one who needs rest." Greg stifled a yawn.

"Go back to your hotel and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day for everyone."

Greg left with one hope in his heart. He wanted to rent a motorcycle. He needed the feeling of freedom it would give him. He also thought a ride on the back, holding tightly onto him would be beneficial for Joanne as well.

Upon returning to the hotel, Greg inquired a the front desk to see if anyone even thought they knew of a rental agency that might have what he was looking for. Sure he could just pull out his laptop; but hey, hotels were in the customer service industry. The less work he had to do, the better.

"Mr. House, how are you enjoying your stay with us?"

"This place is amazing. I'll recommend it to everyone on Yelp."

"What can we do for you this evening?"

"I'm interested in renting a motorcycle for the rest of my stay."

"Our concierge will be able to help you with that." The desk clerk picked up the phone and rang the appropriate extension.

"Yes, Mr. House needs some assistance with a rental vehicle. Could you come down?"

Within moments of hanging up, the elevator doors opened and out stepped a man in a three piece suit wearing a name tag. Greg shook hands with him and they got down to business.

"I'd like to rent a motorcycle from tomorrow through Sunday morning."

"Very good, sir. Is there a particular make and model you'd prefer?"

Greg knew the concierge probably arranged several of these types of transactions that ended in Harleys or Ducatis. In his dream of dreams he would have asked for a Triumph Bonneville. But there were only two bikes for him now.

"An Aprilia or the Honda C3R 1000RR. Those are the only two I can ride. So if you can't find one, don't worry about it."

"Both excellent choices, I'm sure. I do believe we can arrange for the Honda. We've had requests for that one before."

"Really?" Greg's smile returned.

"I'll just need to copy your driver's license and get your authorization and proof of insurance. You should be all set."

"Wow, you guys are better than the DMV."

"We try."

Greg gave him the necessary documents and filled out the paperwork. He left for his room feeling like tomorrow would be the best day yet.