Читать книгу I Hate Walt - Vicki Andree - Страница 6

Mary Lou stared at her cell phone. Still no call from Bobby. Am I supposed to call him? What did he do for Christmas, and why didn’t he call? Is he mad that I broke our date? What time is it? She pressed her cell phone. Big numbers shouted 2:57 a.m. That makes it five in Denver. Bobby is probably sleeping.

Ugh! I’ve been here three days, and it’s dark all the time. I can’t spend another day in this room. I have to get out of here. She threw the covers off and sat up, then she snuggled back under the warm blankets. It’s too cold. I’m hungry. I’ll just lay here until the restaurant opens at six. I’m so tired of being in this bed. I should have stayed up later, but there is nothing to do.

She felt around the coffee table for the TV remote. Success! She pointed at the screen on the dresser across from her. Seconds later, the room lit up with an infomercial for NutriBullet, the new healthy way to eat. She watched as the pencil-thin, beautifully dressed young blonde stuffed bananas, cherries, and raw spinach into the mixing cup for a breakfast smoothie.

“I want eggs and bacon.” The sound of her own voice startled her. Then she grinned at herself.

Alaskans do not eat smoothies. They can’t. That would just not be human. They want warm food in the morning. Anyway, that’s my take on this. Now, what did I do with that heating pad?

She switched the heating pad on high and curled around it.

The local news came on, and she realized that she had dozed off for a few hours. The young male news anchor announced that “With good luck, road crews may begin the huge job of removing the avalanche from Jackson Highway. This job is estimated to take at least a week. The avalanche is the largest ever to block the highway.”

A week? Mary Lou covered her face with the pillow and screamed into it. “Nooo!”

She jumped out of the bed and ran into the bathroom to turn the water on in the shower. It took a few minutes before steam filled the room. After taking a hot shower and quickly getting dressed, she made her way down to a darkened restaurant.

The young hostess arrived in the hotel lobby. She shook snow off her down coat as she approached the entrance to the restaurant. “We’ll be open in a few minutes. You can sit inside, if you like. I can get some coffee on right away.”

“Coffee? Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you.” Mary Lou took a seat in the booth nearest the door. She held her head in her hands, supported by her elbows on the table. No one else was in sight. She rubbed her temples.

A young man walked in—the cook, she assumed. Several other people arrived and seemed to know where their assigned posts were for the job. The manager came with a large mug of coffee.

Mary Lou took the cup before the woman could set it on the table. “Oh, thank you. I need this.”

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

“I know what I want. Two eggs, over medium, hash browns, bacon, and… do you have cinnamon rolls? I am starving. It must be the weather.”

The woman smiled. “I’ll get that order in for you. Can I get you anything else right now?”

Mary Lou dumped sugar into her mug. She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m good. I need comfort food.”

“Sure. I understand. I’m stranded, too. I’m just grateful that I work in a hotel restaurant. It could be much worse.”

Mary Lou bristled at her cheerfulness. “Well, I want to go home, and I’m mad at God because He spoiled the holidays for me.”

The woman grinned. “Mad at God, eh? That might be a bit extreme.”

Mary Lou sipped her coffee. “He controls the weather, doesn’t He? Given that fact, I think I have the right to be mad at Him right now.” She leaned back in the booth and folded her arms.

The woman turned back toward the kitchen. “I’m not even going to go there.”