Running late this morning. Oddly enough because I didn’t sleep well. So I suppose it is a perfect match for this morning’s prompt. Let’s jump into it then shall we and tarry no longr.
I king of like this one. Something will certainly happen at the B&B. Not sure what yet, but something.
Monday, October 17th: How did you sleep last night?
“How did you sleep last night?” The inquiry was a polite one, but the woman asking it leaned in as though intensely curious of my answer.
“Fine,” I replied, even though it wasn’t true. I never slept well. Iwas just part of me. On the few nights where I did sleep well I woke up confused as though someone had surprised me in the night. Those rare occasions only happened in my own bed and never in another. Especially not on the first night. Still, that was never what anyone wanted to hear, especially if that someone ran a quaint bed and breakfast.
“Really,” she responded. She sounded surprised.
As I just met her the day before when I checked in, she didn’t know me well enough to know I was lying.
“Should I not have slept well?” I asked.
“Of course you should have dear,” she said. Her smile was warm, friendly and patently false. It was the sort of smile anyone running a quaint bed and breakfast was required to master before their license was issued. “You must have been exhausted from your trip. “ She nodded and her expression became more genuine. “Yes, must have slept quite deeply.”
She gestured to the board spread with the morning’s breakfast offerings. “Please enjoy yourself while it’s hot.” She then toddled off. I smiled at her but let my smile slip once she was gone. It was a distinctly odd exchange. Had the woman not expected me to sleep well?
I shook my head and stepped into the parlor, newly laid with the breakfast dishes. I knew that later in the day the tables would be rolled away and the buffet disappear as the parlor was once again turned into a parlor where guests could sit and chart with one another if they so choose. I wondered who would choose and why.
“I suppose the others might,’ I thought as I went to the offerings. I chose a muffin and poured a cup of coffee. Breakfast really wasn’t my thing but the muffin would give me something to pick at while I consumed my morning coffee.
The others weren’t down yet but I wasn’t surprised. It was early. The muffin was still warm from the oven and clearly looked homemade. The breakfast had been freshly laid and I knew from experience the others were late risers on the first morning.
They also had a penchant for quaint bed and breakfast sorts of places. Personally when I traveled I preferred an anonymous hotel. I wanted to be able to call for room service at three am when I realized I wasn’t going to get any more sleep without worrying over interrupting someone else’s. I wanted a room where the proprietor had to look at the credit card on fle on the computer screen to remember my name. I did not want the personal touch.
I was of course in the minority. It was a typical place for me to stand in family discussions. I was always outvoted by the steps as I thought of them and learned to just go with the flow. And on this most important of weekends I knew not to offer my opinion at all.
It was the weekend before the wedding. It wasn’t the raucous bachelorette party. I assumed Sarah had that with her friends prior. No this was the girl’s family trip before Sarah’s wedding. The wedding that was turning into a marathon event that I would all told be thrilled to see the end of the following week. I always assumed the mass of events were attended by the bride and that as a not terribly close step-sister all I would have to do was attend a few family events and the wedding itself. That was proving not to be the case.
Ten til Midnight 