“If we stay here we’re going to have to reschedule our flight,” she said.
“No need,” said Tom. He turned to the man waiting in line in front of them. He was an elderly florid-faced rotund man with a friendly smile. He was accompanied by an equally rotund woman of similar age and blessed with the same kindly features.
“Hi there,” said the man. “Jim Grive. And this is my wife Eden.”
“Hi,” said Eden, holding out a hand. “Flights out of Cincinnati are all cancelled due to the storm, I’m afraid.”
“How do you know?” asked Dee, surprised.
Eden pointed to a television mounted near the ceiling behind the reception desk. Even though it was muted, there was a news ticker running along the bottom of the screen, indicating, ‘BLIZZARD WARNING - ALL FLIGHTS OUT OF CINCINNATI AIRPORT CANCELLED.’
“Yeah, that should do it,” said Jim, staring up at the screen. “They’re saying it might take three days for the storm to blow over and the runways to be cleared.”
“What about other airports?” asked Dee.
“Pretty much the same,” said Eden. “Dayton’s closed, too, and so is Lexington. Same with Louisville, Indianapolis or Columbus. Besides, the roads are a bust, too.”
“Yeah, looks like we’re stuck out here in lovely…” Jim frowned. “I don’t even know where the heck we are.”
“Middletown,” said his wife, who was starting to display the qualities of a minor oracle. “Just forty miles from our destination. But at least we’re inside where it’s safe and warm.” She smiled at the baby carrier. “You’ve got a lovely family. How old is the baby?”
“Just eighteen months,” said Dee. She looked at her husband. “So we’re staying?”
“Seems like the only option. Like Eden just said, at least it’s safe and warm.”
Dee had expected groans of annoyance and frustration from Maya and Scott, but they were both surprisingly resigned. One look outside told her why this was: even a twelve-year-old couldn’t blame the incoming blizzard on his parents, grownups in general, or whoever else he usually shifted the blame for anything bad onto.
Looked like they were extending Thanksgiving Break with one final surprise stop in lovely Middletown. Not that they would see a lot of the small town’s no doubt stunning scenery. At least there was a nice, big Christmas tree set up in a corner of the small lobby of the Gateway Lodge Motel. Its many-colored lights twinkled merrily, trying its absolute darndest to spread some of that festive cheer and joy in these bleak circumstances. It warmed Dee’s heart and suddenly made her feel like everything might just turn out fine after all.
Just then, a howl made them all look down at Ralph, who was looking up at them with his sad brown eyes. Oh, God, Dee thought. They’d totally forgotten about poor Ralph’s bathroom break!
Chapter Three
Scott was in hell. No doubt about it. Stuck in the middle of nowhere. Worse. Stuck with his parents and his sister in the middle of nowhere. Worse! Stuck in some crappy motel with his parents and his sister in the arse end of nowhere, like the Brits liked to say.
Aargh!
Why did they have to land themselves in the snowstorm to end all snowstorms? And why was he the one singled out to take Ralph out for a pee in this horrible weather?
Double aargh!
He stomped his feet, the collar of his winter jacket turned up, while he waited for the family Goldendoodle to do his business in the bushes that lined the motel parking lot.
Cars were still pulling in from the highway, the motel their last resort destination, and Scott looked moodily on, while Ralph seemed in no hurry whatsoever to do his business.
“Come on, boy,” he said encouragingly. “Just pick a nice bush and take a wee.”
But Ralph was a picky dog. He seemed to be determined to sample every last bush out there before taking his pick. Meanwhile the snow kept on coming down, covering the world in a thick pack of white and frost, and the wind kept on howling, smacking wetly against Scott’s exposed face. In spite of his thick parka, his knitted fleece-lined cap and his winter gloves, he was freezing his tush off. Not so Ralph, whose tail was wagging excitedly, poking his nose into a bank of snow and leisurely pawing at the fluffy white stuff.
“Ralph!” Scott said desperately. “Just do it already, boy. Just go ahead and pick a bush. They’re all exactly the same and they’re all fit for duty.”
Ralph turned his head and gave an excited woofle.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scott muttered. He looked up at the sky and allowed the snowflakes to drift down on his face. In spite of the cold he had to admit it was pretty neat. Not that he didn’t get enough snow in Seattle, where he lived, but a snowstorm like this was something else. It was as if the world had completely turned white—covering everything.
So he took out his phone, and snapped a couple of selfies against the backdrop of the motel, took another few shots of Ralph as he dug into the snow, and of Ralph as he finally got wise and did his business, digging up some snow to cover the end result.
“Good boy,” said Scott, fluffing up the Goldendoodle’s ears and getting a happy bark and a lick on the nose in return. “Now let’s get inside, shall we? I can’t feel my feet.”
Returning indoors, he quickly checked the pictures he’d taken. Pretty cool stuff. He posted a couple of them online, then shoved the phone back into his pocket. He had to admit that being out in the cold and watching Ralph enjoy the snow had considerably lifted his mood. And it was with a light heart that he joined his family, hoping that at least they’d picked a nice room for him with a decent flatscreen, some primo cable and other amenities.
Maya couldn’t believe her ears. “No separate rooms? You can’t be serious!”
“Maya, please,” said her mother. “Keep your voice down.”
“Mom, I can’t be in the same room with that animal,” she said, and she didn’t mind who heard her. “He makes weird sounds in his sleep! And what’s more, he’s a hormonal teenager and you know what that means.”
“No, I don’t know what that means and I don’t care,” said Mom, who was obviously very near the end of her tether. “We’re very lucky they have a room left, so…” She turned to the harried-looking receptionist, who was chewing her bottom lip and nervously glancing at the long row of people still to be processed. “We’ll take it. And thank you very much, Vikki.”
The young woman brightened. “So that’s settled then? Can I have your credit card, Mrs. Kelly?”
Tom, who was still cradling Jacob, gestured silently at his fanny pack, and Maya watched her mother remove Dad’s wallet, take out the credit card and hand it to the receptionist.
“This is a disaster,” Maya muttered. The prospect of having to share a bed with her brother was horrifying. “How long do we have to stay here for? Please tell me it’s just the one night.”
“They’re saying the storm will last at least three days,” said Vikki while she processed Dad’s card, then printed out a room key. “Tomorrow will be even worse than today.” She pushed her hair away from her face, then produced a weary smile. “Thank you for your business, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly.”
“How many rooms have you got left?” asked Maya, not to be deterred.
Vikki grimaced and whispered, “Only three.” She glanced at the line of people and Maya got the picture.
She groaned as they stepped away from the counter.
“Looks like we got here just in time,” said Mom.
“I wonder what all these people are going to do,” said Dad.
“Eden said the Middletown fire department and the Red Cross are setting up a shelter in the high school gym and at people’s homes in town.”