Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Royal could feel moisture forming in the corners of his eyes.
“Do you um, have any rooms?” He forcefully wiped tears away. “I-I don’t have a reservation. I don’t need anything fancy. Just a bed will do.”
Pearl came from around the counter and before he knew it he was engulfed by strong arms that didn’t seem to fit her petite stature.
“Of course I do.” She hugged him tighter. “And even if I didn’t, I’d call Stone and tell him to get over here right away and build you one.”
He assumed Stone must be her husband.
Royal locked up his emotions and pulled away from her.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired, I haven’t eaten in a while and I been driving a long time…and I get these migraines,” he rambled, hoping his excuses explained his weirdness.
“Don’t you dare apologize, sweetheart.” Pearl reached over the counter and grabbed a set of keys off a cork board. “I’ll take care of you. Let’s first get you settled in a room.”
Royal began to reach for his wallet.
“You put that away. We’ll worry about check-in later.” She turned him back towards the door. “Do you have any luggage?”
Royal nodded.
“All right then. Go get your luggage and meet me upstairs, first room on the right.”
He was baffled that she didn’t need his ID and to run his credit card first to ensure he didn’t skip out on the bill or wreck the room.
Too tired to question it, Royal did as he was told and when he came back in he ambled up the stairs with his garment bag and small suitcase, the wood flooring creaked under his Bergdorf dress boats.
Pearl was in the first room on the right. The two lamps on the nightstands were turned on, she’d already gotten a fire started in the fireplace, had turned down his sheets and was fluffing his pillows.
I’m in the Twilight Zone. This can’t be real.
Just like everything else since he’d turned onto Main street, the room wasn’t what he’d expected. It was small but not in a suffocating way.
The bed was large and covered with a cream, mint, beige and gold quilt. It looked warm and inviting in the way that homey things did, not like his cold, black satin comforter in his penthouse.
Lace curtains covered a thick set of burgundy drapes that had been pulled to the sides. A small vase of white and purple flowers sat on the table beside an empty glass pitcher with two glasses waiting on a white cloth.
Everything was mismatched, as though the room hadn’t been decorated all at once but over a long period of time.
Mrs. Pearl watched him as he sat his things on the luggage rack. “So, what d’ya think?”
“It’s fine. It’s very nice.” His voice sounded as if he was just getting over strep throat.
Mrs. Pearl’s smile lit up the room. “Wonderful. I’m glad you like it. You go on and get settled, bathroom is right there, and the water gets super-hot so be mindful.”
She pointed to the nightstand. “You’ll find the television guide, Wi-Fi password, map of the town, and a few other pamphlets in the drawer, okay?”
“Kay… oh, thank you…um, thanks so much.” He’d almost forgotten to add that.
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.” She clasped her hands together. “Now, I’m gonna go to the kitchen and heat you up some leftovers. Myra always makes too much.”
Royal blinked.
She cocked her head to the side. “Do you like meatloaf?”
“You don’t have to do that. I can wait until tomorrow and find a place to—”
“Now, that’s not what I asked. I asked if you liked meatloaf. Or are you a vegetarian… or what’s that other one?” She snapped her fingers a couple of times, then perked up, “a vegan!”
Royal’s slight smile felt strange stretching his cheeks. “No, I’m neither.”
“Phew!” She touched her palm to her chest. “I have no clue what to make of those folks. So yeah to the meatloaf?”
“To be honest. I haven’t had it since I was a kid.”
“Well then you’re in for a treat. It’s Myra’s specialty. She’s my evening cook. Bristol will be here in the morning at five, we call her Brissy.”
Mrs. Pearl took his glass pitcher and rushed out of his room, leaving the faint scent of flowers and plums behind her.
Royal plopped down on the mattress and dropped his face into his palms. He was still in that position when Mrs. Pearl knocked on his door. He opened it to find her big smile and holding a plate with a large hunk of meat on top and the other half filled with a heaping mound of mashed potatoes smothered in dark gravy. In her other hand was a full pitcher of iced water.
After his shower and medication, he sat at the table and pulled the plate close.
The first bite of the tender meat melted in his mouth.