The phone on the nightstand rings shrilly in the darkened room. The sound causes a verbal barrage to erupt from her. She cant seemingly make it stop. "Where the hell is the fucking noise maker?" she yells to no one in particular.
She turns on the bedside table as the noise stops. She looks around the room trying to remember where she is and why she is there in a strange hotel room. She remembers going to the house and not being able to go inside it.
The phone begins to ring again and she nearly knocks everything off the nightstand when she snatches the receiver from its cradle. "Hello,'" her voice is groggy and gruff sounding to her ears. "Yeah, thanks I am awake now", she shakes her head at the overtly friendly and way too freaking perky sounding voice.
She stretches before letting her feet hit the soft carpet. She takes a long hot shower and scrubs the night's long drive off her body, the smell of honeysuckle fills the air. The towel is kinda scruffy but it feels good against her skin.
She pulls out a pair of skinny jeans, black knee boots and a light blue cashmere sweater. She is a minimalist using very little make up and a single braid of her red and blonde hair to the side. She smiles at herself in the mirror, it is a fake smile, the same one she wears everyday.
She packs her dirty laundry in a bag and does a quick once over before leaving the card key on the dresser. She opens the door and is greeted by the a cold sunny morning. She takes the biggest step of her adult life out the door.
Putting her bags in the back of the Mountaineer, she takes a look around Lima. Cringing inwardly, she climbs in and heads to the little diner she saw last night. "I hope they have fresh coffee and decent food", she thinks as she heads out into the morning traffic.
The small diner is nearly full, but she enters the establishment anyway. She picks a booth that is next to the window. She nods to Shelly the waitress and asks for coffee and a glass of orange juice. Picking up the menu she quickly learns there is no healthy breakfast items on the menu.
When Shelly brings her cup of java and oj to her, she hands the menu back and asks if they serve fresh fruit. Shelly looks as if someone asked her to solve world hunger in one meal. She shakes her head and says "naw", "But they do have some really tasty waffles", Shelly says with a worn out smile.
"I guess I will just have a bowl of oatmeal, light on the butter", she places her order to Shelly and looks out the window. Sipping her coffee, she makes mental notes of the changes she sees.
Different businesses, strip malls, and car washes line up the main highway. The traffic is light, not like the traffic in either Atlanta or Charleston. She smiles, already missing the morning road rage sessions going to the shops. She wondered how long it would take before someone would let her know she was number one.
Her memories were interrupted by the arrival of her breakfast and Shelly's half assed comment about some extra butter in case she changes her mind. The more she looks at Shelly the more she looks familiar to her. The faded black hair and crooked teeth, plus the attitude clicked in her mind. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
The oatmeal is decent and the coffee is hot, those are the only perks of Danny's Diner. She pays her tab and walks out the front door when she suddenly remembers her cell phone. "Shit" she mutters under her breath as she remembers leaving it in the console of her SUV.
She climbs in and grabs the phone, it is completely dead. She digs through the glove box hunting the charger, finding it, she plugs it in and watches as her blackberry comes to life after a couple of minutes.
Ten new text messages and six missed calls light up the screen. She listens to her voicemail first. Two messages from Sean at the shop in Atlanta, two messages from Luc in Charleston, and two messages from the realtor.
"Dammit, dammit", she says as she hit's the steering wheel. She had completely forgot about the meeting with Mrs. Lang. "Well I will just tell her the truth about staying at a hotel and reschedule or simply pick up the key to the shop", she thinks as she dials her number.
After a brief and terse conversation with Mrs. Lang, she started the Mountaineer and headed for the Real Estate office. "How can you be too busy to raise a couple of windows and leave a light on", she fumes to herself. "What could be so important that someone could not do there job", she continues the one sided conversation in her mind as she turns at the red light.
Migration by Mark Salling
Consumed by indirection
And I find I am wanting more