It had been a crazy day and all Liz really wanted to do was fall into bed and crash, because Sunday morning would come early enough, bringing with it a four hour drive home. But she knew the hyper little girls in her motel room were not going to let her get much rest tonight. Liz shared her room with her two daughters, Missy, who was twelve, and Aubrey, who was eight, and another of the little girls from the dance troop. The younger girls' class had taken first place in their category and were very excited. Missy's class had not done as well and she was pouting, constantly snapping at the other girls to be quiet. When Liz couldn't take it anymore she announced she was going to go get some ice from the machine.
So there Liz was, in an alcove on the second floor landing of a Red Roof Inn on a chilly March night, wishing she was anywhere else. It was moments like these she seriously reconsidered her choice to raise a family instead of focusing on her career. When her husband went away for the weekend it was hunting at a cabin with the boys. When she went away, it was for dance competitions. This was not her idea of a weekend away. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to the spa with her girlfriends.
Pulling out the cigarettes she'd secreted in her jeans pocket, Liz lit one and inhaled deeply while leaning back against the wall, lulled into relaxation by the rhythmic hum of the ice machine. She'd been careful not to let anyone see her cigarettes because she'd promised the family she'd quit and the girls would certainly report her to their father.
"'Scuse me," a warm female voice said. It was Carly, the head of the dance school and her younger daughter's teacher, who carried an empty plastic ice bucket.
"Sorry," Liz said, moving back against the wall so Carly could squeeze past her. The teacher's firm, round butt rubbed against her as she passed.
"No, I'm sorry. It looks like I interrupted your five minutes of peace. Are you hiding out here?" Carly smiled warmly.
"Is it that obvious?"
"I know what it's like to share a small motel room with a bunch of little girls. Does it make me a bad mother that I'm happy my little one was too sick to come this weekend?"
It was Liz's turn to laugh. "Only if I'm a bad mother because I'm jealous. I would be in heaven if I had a room to myself for the night. I don't care if it's a motel or not, I would still sink into that tub with some bath salts and wine and just veg."
"I'm with you, Liz, except that I had my Kindle with me and Josh Groban playing."
"Still sounds like heaven to me."
"Well, I can at least offer you the wine. Why don't you come down to my room?"
"I don't know," Liz said. Every fiber of her being was shouting, Go, go now! "I have the girls to look after."
"Missy's old enough to look after her sister and Dakota for a while. You'll only be a few doors down," Carly urged.
"That's true, but I wouldn't want to horn in on your relaxing evening."
"Please, it's been ages since I've had some grown up girl talk."
"Okay. Just let me tell the girls I'll be in your room for a while."
Liz went down and told the girls she would be down talking to Miss Carly for a while and made them promise to go to bed as soon as their movie was over. They promised and even though Liz knew they lying she let it slide. They could stay up as late as they wanted as long as she got some adult time. And maybe they would be so tired the next day they would have an uneventful drive home.
"Come on in," Carly said, greeting Liz at the door.
It was the same generic motel room Liz shared with the girls, coarse beige wallpaper, busy, patterned carpet. Between two full sized beds was a bureau bolted to the wall and there was a long dresser across from the beds with a television on it. In front of the window, which was covered by two heavy, ugly curtains, was a small, round table. An ice bucket, filled with cubes and a large bottle of wine, topped the table. The far bed, against the wall, was hidden beneath scattered clothes and an open suitcase. Music came from iPod speakers set up on the counter outside the tiny bathroom at the far end of the room.
"Have a seat," Carly offered.
Liz sat on the end of the clear bed, the only place to sit. The cover had been peeled off and the sheets and blanket were pulled back. She pulled off her faux-fur topped snow boots and wiggled her toes in their multicolored socks.
"Only the finest for you," Carly said, handing her a small plastic cup filled with red wine. It would take a lot more of those to get drunk, Liz thought. She nearly drained it with one swallow. She felt like she was back in college drinking wine out of plastic cups.
"I feel like I'm at a five star resort. The only thing miss is a hunky masseuse," Liz laughed.
"Maybe we could arrange something," Carly replied meaningfully.
"It isn't fair that men have call girls, but we don't really have that option. A guy could probably call some girl to this room tonight, but there aren't call guy services."
"Would you use one if there were?"