Page 40 of Love Again

“It is. What time are we meeting the fire marshal at the site?”

“Eight sharp. First thing.”

I moan. “So early?”

“It’s a courtesy because the case is officially closed.”

It’s jet-black out. Rain pounds the roof of the CRV so hard it’s difficult to hear Luke. I have to shout. And that’s a good thing, because what I’m about to say has to be said without hesitancy and stated loudly—loud enough for the both of us.

“It makes sense to grab a hotel room here, doesn’t it?”

“What?” he turns his head to me, then he shivers. That rainwater must have soaked through, and it’s cold out. There’s a slight reprieve in the volume of water beating down. I lower my voice a little.

“Let’s get a room and stay here. It’s six thirty now. We won’t eat until eight. Let’s say we leave Portland at nine thirty, at the earliest, and are home by ten. We’re going to turn around and be back down here first thing in the morning? That seems silly.”

My heart begins its drum roll under my ribs. I don’t know why this is so scary. I don’t know why sitting next to him makes me quiver. I don’t even know why I’m thinking this is a good idea. It’s as if my mouth has a mind of its own and saying things out loud, while inside, an inner voice is saying no-no-no.

But I’m not being truly honest with myself. That’s what I love most about Luke: he keeps me centered. Unglued, yes, but he always leads me back to myself.

But Luke doesn’t seem very happy about the situation either. He wipes the side of his face with his arm as he grips the steering wheel. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea, given our situation.”

“We’ll get separate rooms. Mateus has a place down here. Maybe he’s got a hidden key. I could call and find out. I could stay there.”

“No, wait. Look, there’s a place right across the street. We brought fresh clothes because we knew we were going to change again. This makes a lot of sense. We’re two adults. We can do this,” he says. “But we’re not walking in this rain. I’m going to go ahead and drive across the street. Let’s see”—he scrunches up his face to read the badly lit sign with black letters—“if Shari’s has a room. I mean, two rooms.”

Steve, not Shari, does have two rooms right next door to each other. The evidence bag, camera, and clothes all go into his room. We stand, dripping on thin carpeting, listening to people arguing through equally thin walls.

“We might regret staying here,” he says and hoists the kit bag and camera onto the bed.

“I really need to eat something, though. I have an apple in the car,” I say and head toward the door.

“Don’t go out there. I’ll get it.

Lightning flashes again, illuminating the small room for a moment, and then thunder rolls, rattling the large, single-paned window. The wind has kicked up, and when Luke opens the door, it nearly kicks from his grip.

It must be close to freezing out.

He ducks out into the wind and rain. I text Claire that I won’t be home and not to worry about me. I learned a long time ago to always check in with her. I hear the blip of the CRV under the pounding of rain on the rooftop as he unlocks it, and then the car door slams. In a minute, he’s back through the door, dripping wet.

The light in the room is poor, and then the lamplight flickers for a moment. There’s a crash of thunder and the lights go out. Completely. Only pale light comes from the windowpane that looks out across the covered, cement walkway. Even the parking lot lights are out.

“Well, this is exciting. Good thing we’re not on the road.”

“Right?” I say, gathering my clothes.

Part of me is disappointed I’m leaving. But it’s the responsible thing to do. It’s what Claire would do.

I don’t turn around when I shut the door.

Outside, the wind is driving, and the rain comes in sideways. I struggle with the key card, but no matter how I swipe it, it won’t work. I know from fire prevention courses that the batteries in these card locks must be kept current just in case there’s a power outage.

Clearly, these are old batteries.

I re-tuck my bundle and walk the twenty feet back or so and knock on his door.

“The power?” he asks, as I step back inside.

“Well, yeah. I hope it comes back on soon.”