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He turned the wheel to the right, angling the headlights in the direction Tess was pointing. Through the curtain of steady rain, he could just about make out a wooden sign. Propped on a pole standing three feet high, the square sign was obviously hand-carved and painted. It read:
Welcome to Hamlet
est. 1941
Population: 193 192
~ Hamlet Helps ~
Each letter was beautifully drawn in a script that was pure art. The sign was dark, the letters much lighter; the whole thing had an air to it that made it glow. Tess studied it closer. She had to really peer through the rain but she was almost sure that someone had used a different paint to change the population.
Jack noticed that detail at the same time. “Huh. Looks like someone left.”
“Or else they died.”
“Lovely, Tessie. How nice.”
Didn’t mean it wasn’t true, she thought.
2
The road began to widen about ten minutes after they saw the sign. Lights were still sparse, the bumpy cobbles fading to a blacktop street flooded with rain. As she squinted, Tess couldn’t find a sign that they weren’t alone, which made her wonder if perhaps this Hamlet might have exaggerated its population.
When she pointed that out in an abashed murmur, Jack said, “Should I turn back around?”
Tess shook her head. He drove on.
A few houses eventually started to pop up on the outskirts. Taking heart in that, Jack continued to test the tire, pushing the car until he happened to see something that looked promising coming up on his side.
It was another hand-carved sign with that same
reflective paint. Hoping it wasn’t announcing that they were leaving Hamlet now, he slowed down so that he could read it:
The Hamlet Inn
Hamlet’s Finest Guest Establishment
A Luxurious Bed, Breakfast & More!
Inn. Inn meant boarding. Boarding meant a roof over their heads until the morning when he could find someone to provide him with a spare.
Thank God. He'd been beginning to think they'd be bunking in their old Honda after all.
The grand building beyond the sign didn’t look like any of the hotels he’d ever seen before. It was more like a mansion, someone’s home that was a few stories high, made up of countless rooms and had been converted into an inn. With a massive wraparound porch, a circular driveway that led to a set of double doors and the single descriptor luxurious, Jack had the sinking suspicion that a night here was going to cost him a fortune.
His gaze slid to his wife. She was curled up into her seat, her slender legs tucked under her, one hand pillowed beneath her cheek as she rested her head against the window. Her soft, wavy light brown hair covered her like a curtain. She stared straight ahead, silent as the night. He didn’t think she even noticed he stopped the car.
Jack resisted the urge to run his hand down her thigh in a caress. It was a damn shame when a man couldn’t be sure if his wife would welcome his touch. He could do one thing for Tessie, though. No matter what it did to his wallet, he was giving her a place to lay her head tonight that wasn't made of glass.
Flicking on the blinker, the static click—click—click drew her attention away from the rain. She turned toward him, her golden eyes vivid and bright. There was hope there.
Jack gripped the steering wheel so tight, his fingers went white. Was he so miserable to her that finding a hotel to stay the night in brought out a spark in her?
Stirring in her seat, she murmured, “You got something?”
He nodded. “The Hamlet Inn. I’m gonna go see if they have any rooms available.”
Tess let out a soft sigh of relief. “Good.”
