AFTER THE RAIN
by
copyright 2011, Andrea Dale
Published by Soul’s Road Press
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AFTER THE RAIN
by
“Um, would you mind having dinner with me?”
I looked up, startled, pushing my glasses up my nose. It had been dead quiet this morning, with no new guests were due to arrive, that I hadn’t expected anyone to come to the front desk. I was there in case of emergencies.
This didn’t sound like an emergency.
The woman asking the question had arrived several days ago, traveling alone from Australia. She was tall and solid, with a ruddy face from lots of outdoor activity and long, wheat-blonde hair.
I confess I developed an immediate crush on her, and not just because of the accent, either. But how could she know that I…?
“I’m sorry,” she said with a laugh that filled the high-ceilinged, wood-beamed lobby. She stuck her hand over the counter. “I’m Brianna.”
“I know,” I said. Lame, oh so lame.
“Oh, of course you do,” she said, still with amusement sparkling in her voice. “You checked me in.” She always seemed to be happy, really, despite the hideous weather and the fact that there had been no hiking for days and everyone was cooped up in the hotel and going a bit stir crazy. There were only so many board games a bunch of outdoorsy-types could play before things got ugly.
“Anyway,” she went on, “I know this seems kind of forward, but you see, the men around here think because I’m alone that I’m desperate for their company, and I’m sick of fending them off. So if you have dinner with me, maybe they’ll stop circling like brain-damaged Tasmanian devils.”