One side of the sign flickered, the same as before.
Selena smiled despite herself.“Of course.”
The motel sat low beside the road, a row of numbered doors facing a cracked parking lot.The paint still needed work.The soda machine outside the reception office still hummed with one dead panel.A pickup stood near Room 8, and an old sedan with a taped rear window occupied the far end.Nothing about the place looked improved.
In its own stubborn way, that comforted her.
Selena parked near reception and stepped out.
Warm evening air held the dry sweetness of cut hay and road dust.Somewhere down the street, a bird sang for a moment and then went quiet.From behind the office window came the faint sound of music, too dramatic and tinny to be anything other than Eric Wilson’s love of old B-movies.
The bell over the reception door gave a dull clack as Selena entered.
Behind the counter, sure enough, Eric Wilson sat with his feet propped on a lower shelf, a bowl of popcorn balanced on his stomach.The television on the counter faced him, showing a black-and-white castle corridor and a woman running in shoes no sensible person would wear near stairs.Eric did not look away from the screen.
“Good evening,” he said.“Ya looking for a room?”
Selena paused just inside the door.
His reflection showed in the dark edge of the television screen.Receding brown hair with more gray than last time.Glasses low on his nose.A mustache that looked recently grown and still under review.
“You grew a mustache,” Selena said.“Anything else changed around here?”
Eric jolted upright.Popcorn slid off his shirt and scattered across the floor.
He turned too fast, then grinned with the kind of relief that would have embarrassed another man.“Selena!”
“That’s me.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”Eric brushed kernels from his chest, then tried to smooth his hair as if the gesture might reverse several hours of leaning in a chair.The glasses came off next.“Great to see you.Couldn’t resist the old Eric Wilson charm, eh?You just had to come back.”
Selena laughed and crossed to the counter.“You don’t need to take your glasses off on account of me.”
“Nah.I only use them when I’m watching TV.”He folded them and set them beside the register.“At least that’s a promise I’ve made to myself.”
“It’s good to see you.”
Eric leaned one elbow on the counter.“What brings you back to Elmsview?”
“Work again.”
His smile shifted.Not gone, but edged with curiosity.“Should I ask?”
“No.”
“Can I ask?”
“You can.”
“Will you answer?”
“No.”
Eric nodded as if this were a fair negotiation.“I’ll hear it from the town gossips tomorrow anyway.”
“Probably before breakfast.”
“Before breakfast if Mabel Hardy knows.Before midnight if my daughter checks her phone.”
