The lobby's walls were painted a pale yellow, studded with oval shaped light fixtures and pastel-smeared pictures with gaudy frames. Her heels clicked against the freshly waxed hardwood floor as she cautiously approached the front desk.
"How may I help you?" The tall, skinny man behind the oak desk peered over his half-rimmed glasses and looked pointedly at the woman before him.
"I called and made a reservation for a room a few days ago."
"Name please?"
"Carson."
"One moment." His fingers flew over the keyboard, and a moment later he reached under the desk and pulled out a silver key with the number "205" on it. "Everything seems to be in order. Here is your key to room 205. If you have any questions, feel free to call the front desk, there is a list of numbers next to the phone. Thank you, and enjoy your stay here at the Heatherwood Inn."
Dixie nodded, took the key, and placed it securely in her purse.
A busboy helped Dixie load her things into a carrier while she held a groggy Jenny in her arms. She followed him as he pushed the cart gingerly towards the elevator when someone spoke her name.
"Dixie?" Dixie stopped in her tracks. The voice sounded innocent enough, but it rang in her ears like a fire alarm. She wondered if she dared to turn around and see who the voice belonged to—or if she should just run. But before she could decide, a hand tapped her shoulder.
"Dixie Cooney, is that right?" Dixie looked warily towards the voice and heaved a huge sigh of relief as she found herself face to face with the woman from the airplane.
"Yes," she stuttered, "Yes, that's right. And you're Sarah Sprites."
"That's me," she grinned. "It's nice to see you again. And Jennie, too," she continued, tilting her head towards the child. "Will you be staying here for long?"
"Oh, um… Just until I can make arrangements with my family. How about you?" inquired Dixie, trying to shift the focus from herself as quickly as possible.
"Well, I live several hours north of Pine Valley, but this where I grew up. I usually stay for a bit whenever I'm passing through, Pine Valley always feels like home to me. My husband is retiring soon—I'd love to convince him to move down here, but well, we'll see."
"Ms. Carson!" the busboy called from the elevator. Dixie swallowed hard, then began to walk nonchalantly toward the elevator. Sarah strolled alongside her, and luckily, didn't realize that the busboy had been referring to Dixie when he called for Ms. Carson.
"What room are you in?" Sarah asked pleasantly.
"205."
"Wonderful, I'm in 203. We're practically neighbors," she added playfully.
The elevator doors opened. The busboy and two women stepped out. Sarah dawdled with her room key, taking no notice of the busboy unloading the luggage into room 205.
"Thank you, sir," Dixie said in a strained voice.
Sarah tilted her head in mild surprise as Dixie gave the busboy a few dollars. "Thank you Ms. Carson, and have a nice evening." He nodded, and briskly left.
Dixie grimaced, feeling Mrs. Sprite's puzzled eyes penetrating directly through her.
"You said your name was Dixie Cooney," she spoke slowly, uncertainly. Dixie tried to think past the nausea and apprehension that was slowly bringing beads of perspiration across her forehead. Sarah folded her arms, unsure of how to respond to Dixie's sudden trepidation.
"Ms. Carson?" Sarah said the name in an accusing tone, her bewilderment apparent.
"Look, Sarah, I know this seems odd," Dixie began with forced composure.
"You have no idea. Who are you? Really?"
Dixie quickly racked her brain, then said, "I'm Dixie Cooney. B-but my maiden name—my maiden name is Carson." She blinked several times, trying to make sure her eyes remained fixed on Sarah, but they were not able to hide her consternation.
"I don't believe you," Sarah spoke flatly. Her lips formed a line, and her face appeared to tighten with suspicion.
"I—well—it's…" Dixie's mouth couldn't begin to form a sentence. Maybe it was because she was so completely overwhelmed. Maybe it was because of the long plane ride. Maybe it was because a little over nine months ago she'd done the hardest thing in her life by leaving Pine Valley, or maybe it was because the second hardest thing was returning home, but almost instantly her lips began to quiver, and found herself sobbing in hysterics.
Sarah's lips parted slightly—she wasn't sure if she could trust this "Dixie Cooney," if that was even her name. And yet, Sarah was a woman of deep compassion, and would not, could not, let the woman before her completely break down without a shoulder to cry on. She stepped forward carefully, shyly extending her hand toward Dixie. Wrapping her arm around Dixie and Jennie the best she could, she guided them into their room and shut the door. "Shhh," she whispered, patting Dixie's back as they eased onto the bed.
Dixie managed to hiccup a soft "I'm sorry."
"It's alright, honey, it's alright," Sarah soothed. "Let it out. Tell me what wrong." Sarah's voice was filled with pure sincerity. "Why don't you tell me what's really going on?"