“There what?” he asked, struggling to remain calm and poised.
“Don’t you see the sign? There’s a motel up ahead.”
“How far?” asked Maya, nervously shuffling in her seat.
“No idea. Must be close, though, right? Otherwise why put up a sign?”
Tom quickly glanced back to the dog, who was still howling at regular intervals. “Maybe we should stop now? Give him a chance to lift his hind leg against a tree?”
“And freeze his tush off? No way, Dad,” said Maya, who was Ralph’s biggest fan. The feeling was mutual, because Ralph now shoved his wet nose into Maya’s neck, causing her to giggle. “Stop it, you big hairy goofball,” she said, playfully pushing the dog away.
At seventeen, Maya was the spitting image of her mother: willowy, blond and absolutely stunning, with her mother’s striking green, gold-flecked eyes.
“Dad? I got some bad news,” said Scott.
“What is it?” Tom asked. He thought he’d reached his quota of bad news for the day.
“Is it the baby?” asked Dee, panic making her voice squeaky. “Is something wrong with the baby?”
“Jacob’s fine,” said Scott, patting the baby carrier. “Sleeping like a log. Thing is, I gotta pee, too, Dad, and I don’t think I can hold it in until Cincinnati, wherever Cincinnati is.”
“I told you not to drink so much soda,” said his sister. “You’re like a camel when you see a can of soda.”
“I am not,” said Scott indignantly. “I was thirsty.”
“Then drink water. You know soda’s bad for you.”
“I don’t like water. Water’s got no taste. I hate it.”
“Sugar kills your brain cells. And you don’t have that many to begin with.”
“I’ve got plenty of brain cells. I can afford to lose a couple hundred.”
“Yeah, but can you afford to lose a couple million? I don’t think so.”
“Kids, not now,” said Dee. “Your father is trying to get us out of this mess.”
And their father was indeed trying to do just that. Unfortunately the storm and the snow were winning and he and the bright red rental Toyota Highlander was losing.
Just then, a huge sign announcing the presence of the Gateway Lodge Motel loomed up by the side of the road, momentarily visible through a gap in the drifting snow.
Making an executive decision, Tom steered the vehicle onto the off-ramp and in the direction of warmth, comfort and, hopefully, decent sanitary facilities for human and dog.
Others had decided on the same tack, however, with an actual traffic jam as a consequence.
“Why don’t we just leave the car, Dad?” Scott suggested. “It’s just a rental anyway.”
Maya laughed. “That’s such a dumb thing to say.”
“Who are you calling dumb, bird-face?”
“You can’t just leave a rental car by the side of the road, pea-brain.”
“Kids,” said Dee, trying to inject a parental note of steel into her voice and failing.
“It’s a rental!” Scott said. “You simply call the rental company, tell them you had to dump the car because of force majeure and that’s it. They got LoJack installed on all the cars in their fleet anyway, so all they need to do is look up the car’s location, send a flatbed tow truck and that’s it.” He pointed a finger at his sister. “That’s what you pay insurance for.”
Maya was shaking her head. “You are such a dumbass.”
“No, it’s an actual fact. Look it up. I’m right, aren’t I? Dad?”
Tom, even though he was proud that Scott was aware of the word ‘force majeure,’ felt that he needed to set the record straight. “I’m afraid it’s not, Scott. Rental companies don’t like it when you simply dump their cars by the side of the road. It’s gonna cost us.”
“This isn’t one of your geeky movies, Scott,” said Maya, still laughing.
“Well, I need to pee so I’m getting out,” said Scott, and opened the door.
An icy gust of wind, along with a few shovels of snow, decided otherwise, and he quickly closed the door again, much to his sister’s amusement. He stuck out his tongue.
“Very mature, Scott,” she said. “Maybe we should get you one of Jacob’s diapers.”
Finally, the cars moved on, and quickly Tom managed to reach the motel parking lot. He directed the rental and its long-suffering passengers to the motel entrance, and parked as close as he could. When he finally cut the engine, the Kellys all blew out sighs of relief.
“We’re here,” Tom announced, quite unnecessarily, since by then the others were already climbing out of the car, leaving him the last one to leave the proverbial sinking ship.
Chapter Two
The traffic jam wasn’t confined to the freeway, the off-ramp, or even the parking lot. Inside the Gateway Lodge the situation was the same, with lots of people having had the exact same idea as the Kellys. The receptionist, a vivacious young woman with a blond bob and bright red lips, was working as fast as she could, but she had a pretty big crowd to contend with, and Dee had a sinking feeling it might take ages before their turn came.
Meanwhile, at least, the motel bathroom was available, even though there, too, a line had formed. Leaving Tom in charge of both Ralph’s leash and the baby carrier, Dee hurried off after her son and daughter, who clearly didn’t share her compunction to leave everything to their father.
Then again, when one had to go, one had to go.
She and Maya were next in line, while Scott had already disappeared inside the men’s restroom long before.
“What is it about men that makes them so much faster than us?” asked Dee as she darted nervous glances back at Tom, now cradling the baby in one arm while holding onto the dog’s leash with the other.
“Simple. It’s all down to biology and real estate,” said Maya.
She turned to her daughter. Maya’s long blond tresses were neatly tucked away inside a white knitted cap, and her face was flushed from the cold.
“Biology and real estate?” Dee asked. “What do you mean?”
“Men pee standing up, which means restroom designers can fit a lot more prime real estate into the same square footage as women’s restroom designers, since women need a stall, not a urinal.” She shrugged. “The solution most men would suggest is that women simply agree to pee standing up, using a pee funnel.” She scoffed. “Typical male thinking. Can you see women dragging a pee funnel around in their purse just in case they need it?”
Dee blinked. It was a topic she had never contemplated in depth.
“My solution? Do away with male and female restrooms, create single, big restrooms with only stalls and no urinals and voila! Problem solved.”
“Oh-kay,” said Dee carefully. She was still trying to figure out how they were going to reschedule their flight out of Cincinnati and how much this was going to cost, and pee funnels and bathroom architecture were not at the forefront of her mind right now.
Maya tapped her temple. “See? It takes a woman to think these things through and come up with practical solutions to a practical problem.”
“That’s great, honey,” said Dee. She’d taken out her phone and was trying to figure out if she had cell phone reception or Wi-Fi or both. Cell phone reception? Nope. Wi-Fi. Yes!
By the time it was finally Dee’s turn, Scott was already walking out of the bathroom, whistling a tune. Maybe her daughter was right, Dee thought briefly. Maybe public bathroom designers needed to take a leaf from Maya’s page and do some creative thinking.
But five minutes later she’d finally done her business, washed her hands, splashed some water onto her face, and had forgotten about the whole thing.
She joined her family, and saw that they’d already moved to second in line, the receptionist looking increasingly harried as more and more people poured into the motel.
“So. We need to decide what we’re going to do,” said Dee. “Stay the night or brave the storm.”
“Duh, Mom,” said Scott. “That’s a no-brainer. This storm is going to wipe us out.” He was gesturing at the plate-glass windows to the wintry scene outside. Scott was right. The weather had gotten even worse while they were in there, with snowdrifts up to a foot, and visibility so bad she couldn’t even see the rental, even though it was parked right outside.