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“That’s great,” I lied, injecting as much false cheer as I could into my voice. “I had no idea it was for sale.”
“Me either! I went to the manager to see about getting you your own room and we got to talking.” I bet you did, I thought, wondering how long it’d taken for the guy to see Dad was a sucker. “He mentioned how he wanted to travel with his wife and go visit the grandkids, but couldn’t because he was tied to the motel.” Annnnnnd there it was. “That’s when I knew I needed to buy the motel from him. He didn’t want to at first,” I’m sure, I thought doubtfully, “But I finally convinced him. It’s a fresh start here. Fate brought me here.”
You mean a dart and one too many drinks brought you here, I thought but refrained from saying it. Dad had been distraught after Mom kicked him out. It hadn’t even mattered that it was his house and she was the one having the affair. She’d kicked him to the curb and moved his boss in immediately.
One night, I’d gone to visit Dad, only to find him drinking and throwing darts at a map of the United States. When I’d asked him what he was doing he’d told me he was trying to find a place to start over.
Hence, my arrival to the tiny town of Banks.
“Dad, I’m happy you’re happy, but what do you know about running a motel?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my emotions from seeping through.
“It’s a business, Bunny. And I can make this one profitable,” he answered confidently, a hint of the old Dad peeking out and the rest of my questions died. I’d almost forgotten this version of Dad, the one in his element when presented with a challenge.
“Housekeeping though?” I said in chagrin, redirecting the conversation and he chuckled.
“We’re going to have to operate lean, Bunny girl. That means housekeeping too.”
“I’ve never cleaned anything in my life,” I reminded him, giving him a sideways glance only to catch him doing the same.
“Me either,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “It’ll be an adventure.” He turned onto the gravel drive and I tried to see the place with new eyes – the kind that were invested – but it hadn’t magically improved. The paint was still peeling and I was pretty sure there was a busted window in room 214.
Dad caught sight of my expression and said, “It’s rough, I’ll admit that, but it’s got potential.” I nodded, not seeing this ‘potential’ but not wanting to shit all over his dream either, that specialty reserved for my mother.
“I believe in you, Dad,” I replied with forced cheer, and he answered me with a beaming smile. Another thought occurred to me and my eyes narrowed. “How did you pay for this place?” I asked suspiciously; dread forming as he gave me an apologetic look.
“Well, Bunny,” he started and I interrupted, “Dad, no,” already suspecting what he was about to say.
“I only used a little of your college fund,” he said in a rush, like that made it easier somehow.
He didn’t seem to know what else to say, and I could feel my heart start to beat harder. Brown University had been my dream for as long as I could remember. I wasn’t even sure when I’d decided on that school, but it had been the foremost goal most of my life. An escape from Mom and her demanding perfectionism, the cold house, and my little brother’s existence. The idea that it might be gone, spent on a rundown motel on the edge of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, was crushing.
“Dad,” I breathed, trying to control the emotions rushing through me. I didn’t want to ruin this for him, but my mind was racing and it was hard to hold back the tears.
“Just a little of it,” he promised, holding his fingers barely an inch apart. I let out the breath I’d been holding, hoping that meant I could still go. “Barely a year’s tuition.”
I nodded. I could live with that. If it meant he was happy and my dream was still possible, then this new life of ours might be bearable.
“Granted, I might need to borrow a little more for repairs,” he admitted his expression contrite as he peeked at me. The look on his face had my emotions taking a nosedive as my dreams faded once again. I sucked in a sharp breath and held it for a full minute to keep myself from lashing out. As I finally released it I felt calmer, or maybe just oxygen deprived, but I was able to address him more calmly than I felt.
“Can you do it, Dad?” I glanced at the motel, seeing all of its flaws and wondering if what I was asking was even possible. “Can you make it profitable?”
