The elderly couple smiled tremulously at the kind young man, dressed nattily in a crisp, new looking white shirt with a black slacks, as he rang up their purchases and counted back their change. He asked where they were staying and they pointed trembling fingers in the direction of the local motel next door, the Fairmont Inn. It was cheap and a little shabby but clean, most folks who stayed were heard to comment. The cleanliness was almost strange, one or two individuals would venture with squints to their observant eyes. But most didn’t notice or pay attention to how the tub’s enamel was scrubbed to the point of scratches on its surface, or how the sheets were almost scratchy from too much starch and bleach in the wash cycle. For the majority of folks coming in off the highway, exhausted and in search of something cockroach free and affordable, the Fairmont Inn was both.
The young man nodded and smiled, the dimples in his cheeks exposed to a lonely grandmother who became misty at his resemblance to her own son, long since departed and with a home of his own. He remembered to call now and then, she reminded herself sternly when she felt saltwater tears pricking at the corners of her aging blue eyes. She looked to the right, at her husband of more than fifty years, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Probably not. He wasn’t as sentimental as she was and he became impatient with her “whining” as he called it. He told her she got what she wanted, didn’t she. The kids were independent and living their own lives. “We did a good job, Virginia. They’re successful and mostly happy. What more do you want.” She knew he was right, but still-
“Well, you have a good stay,” the boy nodded and smiled again. So polite, Virginia thought dimly, blinking her eyes rapidly to dispel the tears she knew would bring a snort from her husband. With a finger wave she drifted out of silently swinging doors to the convenience store.
The young man watched them, gazing at their departing backs. The elderly man was still tall even though he was now in a stooped position, in well washed to a shine dark blue pants with a white shirt with a blue blazer. His hair was a motionless iron gray. He shuffled along beside his smaller and seemingly more fragile wife. She was dressed in a musty smelling flowered skirt and jacket, her blouse cream colored with a big tied bow at the front. She wore matching cream colored heels which she shuffled along in, and her hair was a mass of angel white cotton candy. The man, as he watched, narrowed his own blue eyes. The kindly smile slowly morphed into something more resembling a pursed sort of scowl. The elderly woman, Virginia, wouldn’t have recognized him.
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Content Rating Notice: Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
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