(11)
— Originally publshed in The MacGuffin, Spring 2004
Continued from page (10)
“You’re cute
when you laugh,” she’d said, then nuzzled him, murmured, clung to him as
they drifted off to sleep. “We found each other just in time,” she’d
whispered. “Just in time.”
He reached for the house phone and called the Pine Inn.
“Checked out an hour ago, sir,” a cultured male voice told him.
“Did they leave a forwarding address?”
“We’re not allowed to divulge that information, sir.”
Back in the room, he threw his clothes into his suitcase. Without
another look at the sea, he hurried to the front desk and slapped his key on
the polished wood. “Checking out.”
The clerk found his file. “There’s a note. Says it’s to be delivered to
you upon checkout.” She handed him a rose-beige envelope. He ripped it
open.
My Dearest Jamey,
No phoney farewells, OK? I had a great time, but we’re not in the
same league. By the time you get this, you’ll have spent a week
remembering Clarissa. Hope you find her replacement soon. You need somebody. Don’t we all?
Love
Fondly,
Roxie
He scrawled his name on the credit slip and started toward the parking
lot.
“Your receipt, sir.”
He waved and kept going.
He sped north, past Carmel, past Castroville where he and Sissy had
stopped to buy artichokes, to the junction with 101, past the clumps of
eucalyptus and rock outcropping, finally inland, away from the sea, to the
summer warmth and rolling brown hills. Roxie would be in the city by now.
No need to hurry. He’d find her.
As he sailed past the Santa Cruz exits, he remembered that he and
Sissy had eaten at a roadside diner with jukebox country music and spinning
red-topped stools, the last stop on their honeymoon. He’d make it the last
stop on his trip. He eased the MG into the exit lane. Immediately off the
highway he found it, Carrie’s Inn and Carry-Out. He pulled into the unpaved
parking lot and trotted through the dust to the aluminum-and-glass door. He
sat at the end of the pock-marked counter. Sissy had sat one stool in. They’d
eaten without speaking.
TOM'S TALES