shown up. It was now eight o’clock. Dusk was fast approaching and the fading light cast ominous purple shadows across the grounds of Harbor View.
Jennie was half an hour late and, although she had confessed to not being punctual, Paul’s innate fears and insecurities often gave way to panic. He couldn’t help it. He had waited at the airport for his parents the day their plane slammed into a ridge in Berryville, Virginia. Waited and waited! Finally, three hours later, an airline official called all the families together to tell them the horrific news. His parents and everyone else on the plane were dead. Ever since that day, if anyone was even a minute late, Paul felt the signs of an anxiety response.
He already had beads of perspiration forming on his brow, worrying about Jennie and where she might be. Did she have car trouble? Had she changed her mind and decided to go home and be done with that wench, Margaret? Surely she would have at least called him. Paul’s run-in with Hudson Cregg, followed by Baxter nearly finding him in his office, had left him in an uneasy mood. Cregg seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, then vanished just as quickly after he told Paul things only another drunk would believe. Delusional with alcohol, Baxter had claimed. Had Cregg amused himself by trying to scare Paul?
One thing he’d said, though, still troubled Paul. His reference to the ‘others.’ Did he mean former employees? Paul had found some documents the previous nurse had left at the nurses’ quarters. Her name was Colleen Brady. According to Baxter, she’d quit unexpectedly, which probably fueled Cregg’s delusions about people disappearing. Paul had to admit that Harbor View was eccentric, but Cregg’s overblown imagination, powered by a fifth of cheap whiskey, was just too much. Unfortunately, now that Jennie hadn’t showed up, Paul’s own imagination was a jumble of bad thoughts playing in his mind. Earlier, he had tried to call her cell phone, but was unable to connect. He cursed hit-and-miss cell phone reception. For all the hoopla about good service, it seemed to be just a matter of luck if you got a connection.
At eight-thirty, Paul decided to go back to his room and call her hotel. If that didn’t work, he’d have no choice but to go look for her. Paul got itchy when he was nervous and he’d already started to get welts on both arms. Suddenly, headlights fell on him and jerked him from his unpleasant reverie. He ducked behind one of the stone columns by the gate and flattened himself against it. At first, he thought it was Baxter’s Mercedes. Then he recognized the outline of the VW beetle. It was Jennie!
She pulled her car under the light of the Harbor View sign and grinned. Her soap-polished complexion shined in the shadows.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I’m sorry, Paul. You missed me?”
“Very funny. I was worried. And yes, I missed you.”
Jennie batted her eyes. “Paul, you like me.”
“Come on, Jennie, be serious.”
“Okay, jump in. I’ve got some stuff to tell you.”
“You and me both,” Paul said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
J ennie drove west on Rt. 103 away from Cutting and Harbor View. A half hour later, they found a diner just off the highway. The old-style eatery was encased in shiny aluminum with thick glass-blocks that framed the doorway. Inside, a long counter with orange vinyl-coated stools held pies and cakes in plastic containers, and several patrons sat sipping coffee. Booths along each wall were equipped with their own jukebox selector.
“I feel like I just stepped back in time,” Paul said.
Jennie nodded. “Yeah, very nostalgic.”
They slid into a booth and Paul flipped through the jukebox selections.
“I can’t find a single song later than 1975.”
Jennie smiled. “That’s the best music anyway.”
A waitress in a white uniform and paper cap appeared out of nowhere, carrying a glass coffee pot. “You like some coffee?”
Paul and Jennie
Jennie was half an hour late and, although she had confessed to not being punctual, Paul’s innate fears and insecurities often gave way to panic. He couldn’t help it. He had waited at the airport for his parents the day their plane slammed into a ridge in Berryville, Virginia. Waited and waited! Finally, three hours later, an airline official called all the families together to tell them the horrific news. His parents and everyone else on the plane were dead. Ever since that day, if anyone was even a minute late, Paul felt the signs of an anxiety response.
He already had beads of perspiration forming on his brow, worrying about Jennie and where she might be. Did she have car trouble? Had she changed her mind and decided to go home and be done with that wench, Margaret? Surely she would have at least called him. Paul’s run-in with Hudson Cregg, followed by Baxter nearly finding him in his office, had left him in an uneasy mood. Cregg seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, then vanished just as quickly after he told Paul things only another drunk would believe. Delusional with alcohol, Baxter had claimed. Had Cregg amused himself by trying to scare Paul?
One thing he’d said, though, still troubled Paul. His reference to the ‘others.’ Did he mean former employees? Paul had found some documents the previous nurse had left at the nurses’ quarters. Her name was Colleen Brady. According to Baxter, she’d quit unexpectedly, which probably fueled Cregg’s delusions about people disappearing. Paul had to admit that Harbor View was eccentric, but Cregg’s overblown imagination, powered by a fifth of cheap whiskey, was just too much. Unfortunately, now that Jennie hadn’t showed up, Paul’s own imagination was a jumble of bad thoughts playing in his mind. Earlier, he had tried to call her cell phone, but was unable to connect. He cursed hit-and-miss cell phone reception. For all the hoopla about good service, it seemed to be just a matter of luck if you got a connection.
At eight-thirty, Paul decided to go back to his room and call her hotel. If that didn’t work, he’d have no choice but to go look for her. Paul got itchy when he was nervous and he’d already started to get welts on both arms. Suddenly, headlights fell on him and jerked him from his unpleasant reverie. He ducked behind one of the stone columns by the gate and flattened himself against it. At first, he thought it was Baxter’s Mercedes. Then he recognized the outline of the VW beetle. It was Jennie!
She pulled her car under the light of the Harbor View sign and grinned. Her soap-polished complexion shined in the shadows.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I’m sorry, Paul. You missed me?”
“Very funny. I was worried. And yes, I missed you.”
Jennie batted her eyes. “Paul, you like me.”
“Come on, Jennie, be serious.”
“Okay, jump in. I’ve got some stuff to tell you.”
“You and me both,” Paul said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
J ennie drove west on Rt. 103 away from Cutting and Harbor View. A half hour later, they found a diner just off the highway. The old-style eatery was encased in shiny aluminum with thick glass-blocks that framed the doorway. Inside, a long counter with orange vinyl-coated stools held pies and cakes in plastic containers, and several patrons sat sipping coffee. Booths along each wall were equipped with their own jukebox selector.
“I feel like I just stepped back in time,” Paul said.
Jennie nodded. “Yeah, very nostalgic.”
They slid into a booth and Paul flipped through the jukebox selections.
“I can’t find a single song later than 1975.”
Jennie smiled. “That’s the best music anyway.”
A waitress in a white uniform and paper cap appeared out of nowhere, carrying a glass coffee pot. “You like some coffee?”
Paul and Jennie
Similar Books
