Motel From Hell

Truck Stop Love

"What about a restaurant review?" I ask, clipping newspapers at the check in desk.

"Is it local and good?" Chester asks from his spot on the floor, vintage luggages and tools surrounding him. We're working on actually furnishing the lobby, we decided to DIY but it's a lot of work. We're making furniture and wallpaper!

"Yeah." I answer.

"Then put it up, make a section for local eateries." Chester says, fumbling with a broken latch of a suitcase.

"Did I ever tell you that your brain is brilliant?" I say, pasting the review on a nearby wall. We won't have enough to finish one wall, even if we use the entire paper from today.

"No, but don't worry, I know it is." Chester says, and I roll my brown eyes.

"When do you think we'll be done with everything?" I ask, cutting something from the front page.

"We have an endless supply of suitcases, and with all the down time from the lack of business, probably by the end of the weekend." Chester says.

"We'll have at least five rooms booked once we redecorate." I promise.

"I hope so. This upholstery isn't easy." Chester says. Leaving behind the classifieds I come around the desk to Chester's ring of suitcases in the middle of the lobby.

"Let's switch jobs then." I suggest, stepping carefully over the leather mess.

"Nah," Chester waves off. "Let's take a break." He says, laying on his back. I follow his lead, laying on the floor that now is spotless thanks to me.

"Hey, Blake?" Chester asks.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you a run away?" My throat swells, and I reel my brain to a stop like car breaks before an accident. I won't let my mind think anything of my past, focusing on anything else.

"Is it okay not to talk about it?" I ask. "Or think about it?" I add, concerting on thread counts for new sheets for the rooms.

"It's okay." He says, his big hand engulfing mine in a comforting squeeze. I grin over at him, craning my neck to look at him besides me.

"Thank you." I say. A ding goes off, making us both sit up, and stare at the door. Two big trucker men stand in the door, giving us weirded looks.

Customers!

"Mediating." Chester quickly lies, and I stifle a laugh at his lame excuse.

"Oh," one man starts with greasy gray hair tucked under an even greasier worn cap. "That yoga crap." He finishes, his big nose twitching.

"Two rooms?" Chester asks, standing up. The men stiffen, but the other balding man nervously tugs his pants higher on his beer gut.

"No. One." The balding man mumbles. Oh. Chester doesn't hesitate, and hands them a key with a request of a forty dollar despot for the room.

"Aw," Chester says as they leave for their room. "They're like a homosexual romance book." Chester says, leaning against the check in desk.

"Truck Stop Love." I make up a fake book title.

"Wait... Does that make my fine establishment the truck stop?" Chester asks.

"It does!" I laugh, but my laughter dies off. "They better not stain my sheets." I say. "We should make that a policy for all couples." I state firmly, Chester just rolls his green eyes.

Later
"Good morning." I spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink of Chester's bathroom. We woke up a little late so we're both rushing to get ready to ready the motel.

"Good morning." Chester says, walking into the steamy bathroom with a damp towel around his waist. I nearly choke on my mouthful of mint toothpaste, and focus on staring at my reflection.

"Do you think they'll check out this morning?" Chester asks, referring to our only customers. In the foggy mirror I can see water drops sliding down his tone back, holy crap, he's more attractive when he's wet. My eyes shut at the sound of Chester's chuckle behind me.

You heard that, didn't you, I think.

"Yup." Chester smugly says, I can hear the smirk in his voice. My face burns, and I finish up my brushing my teeth to run out of the room.

"I'm attractive, don't try to deny it, you'll only get headaches!" Chester calls after me as I rush out the apartment behind the lobby. Don't be attracted to your boss, I scold myself. Halting in my trucks I gawk at the parking lot, one truck is gone. When did one of them leave?

Grabbing my maid cart I hurry to the room, did they skip out on us? Chester wanted to give them the motel's business card, spread the word to other truckers about the motel.

A Do Not Disturb, sign sways on the bronze knob. Oh... I can't... I shouldn't... But what if they just put it there so we don't check to see if they skipped out on us?

Knocking on the door for ten minutes straight I don't get an answer. Chester! I think as loud as I can. Chester pops up next to me fully dressed now.

"I think they skipped out on us." I say, gesturing to the love nest behind the door. Chester groans in frustration, and twists the lock unlocked with his mind.

Chester swings the door open, a storm of putrid fumes burning our noses. We both gag, and we both stare at the red room that wasn't originally red.

"DON'T LOOK!" Chester bellows, shoving his big hands over my eyes.

"Oh my god!" I cry, my hands gripping Chester's knuckles for dear life.