Page 6 of Room 1003

“Well, we certainly can’t afford to stay in a hotel indefinitely,” he replied tartly. He frowned a little. “You know, I have a little left in your pop’s insurance payout.”

I shook my head firmly. “No, that’s your money. I can’t take it.”

He leaned across the table and took my hand. “You’re not taking it. I’m giving it to you. Would it help if we called it a loan?”

The life insurance from my pop’s death was always supposed to go toward my dad’s world travels. It was what Pop had wanted, but everything was put on hold when Embry died suddenly in a car accident. Dad moved in with me to help out with Kit, who was only three at the time. In truth, we had helped each other through our grief. It had been a difficult time for both of us, but we made it through the worst of it. Dad hadn’t given up his dreams of traveling yet, but it was put on hold until Kit was a bit older.

I reluctantly picked up the card, fingering the embossed lettering. “Ben, huh?” There were too many Cs in his last name. I wasn’t at all sure about how to pronounce it. “Okay, but I’ll pay you back,” I said finally, “with interest.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kit toss the phone onto the bed beside him. The show was over, and his short attention span was searching for a new target. He rose up and started jumping on the mattress. “I’m bored. What’s next?” he asked, leaping with his arms and legs flailing about, as if trying to touch the ceiling.

“Next part of the adventure,” my dad said, pushing up from his chair, “is abath!” He added jazz hands, trying to spruce it up. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Kit stopped jumping and made a face. “No. I have baths all the time. That’s not an adventure.”

“Ah, but you’ve never had a bath here before. There are jets in the side of the tub that shoot water at you, and I bet if we add some bubble bath, the bubbles will get so deep that I might not be able to find you. Maybe we should tie a rope to you so you can find your way back.”

“Really?!” Kit’s eyes got big.

“Mm-hm, and then, as long as you don’t get lost in the suds, we can go downstairs and eat pancakes with a whole mountain of whipped cream and strawberries.”

“Yippee!” Kit whooped, leaping off the bed with a thud and skipping to the bathroom. Dad looked back at me and gave me a wink.

“Thanks, Dad,” I told him, and as he followed Kit off to the bathroom to ensure he didn’t flood the hotel with bubbles, I got up to grab my phone from where Kit had left it.

Perching on the edge of the bed, I dialed the number on the card. It wasn’t until it was ringing that I thought to check the clock beside the bed. Shit, it was still super early. Sometimes I forgot that most people slept past 6am.

I was about to hang up, my thumb reaching for the red button, when a voice came over the line. “Hello?”

Bringing the phone back up to my ear, I winced. “Hi, Ben? This is Shane, from last night. The hotel. I am so sorry if I woke you up.”

“No, it’s okay, I was up. I have a cat,” he said by way of explanation, and somehow, I understood exactly. His cat was probably just like Kit, waking up hungry and bored and needing attention immediately.

I laughed lightly at the mental picture of the massive man being bossed around by a tiny furball. “Well, I’m still sorry to be calling so early. I hope you’ve at least had a cup of coffee.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m already on my second cup,” he said lightly, his deep voice a pleasant rumble through the phone. “I assume you’re calling about the probably-maybe baby fire?”

“Yeah. I bought this old Gothic-revival house in West Academy, got a great deal on it. It’s got a lot of character, but…”

“Mm, with character comes character flaws,” he said.

“Yeah, something like that.” Or exactly like that. “We just moved in, and we haven’t had a chance to figure out all the work it’ll need, but I can take my time with the cosmetic stuff. I just need to make sure it’s safe for my family first. I won’t risk my son.”

“I understand,” he said, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he got exactly what I was saying. “I’m available whenever. Do you need to work today? I can come over this evening if that works better.”

“I work from home, actually. I’ll drop my son off at school, then maybe you could come over around nine o’clock?”

“Sure, that works.”

“I really appreciate it. Seriously.” I could feel the all-too-familiar sting of tears behind my eyes, but I’d had years of practice at keeping them under control.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, and I almost believed him.

I gave him the address and a quick description of what happened when I flipped the breakers so that he would have some idea what kind of supplies he needed to bring, then I wrapped up the call. Just in time, as the bathroom door opened, and Dad came out with a towel-bundled Kit slung over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said with mock sadness, “but I seem to have lost your son. I pulled the plug, andbloop!There he went, straight down the drain.”

“Oh no!” I said, playing along. “I don’t know what I’ll do without my beloved Kit.” There was a muffled giggle from somewhere in the towels. “Oh well, I guess I’ll have to eat all those pancakes by myself. It’ll be tough, but I’ll manage somehow.”

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