"I got an idea - how about we go to Lake in the Hills. We been there before and we always had a good time, and it should be real pretty this time of year, with all the dogwoods blooming and stuff. I know it's a long drive, but there're some places we can stop along the way so we don't have to do the drive all at once."
Ally's school had a week-long break coming up and I had a bunch of unused vacation days I was on the verge of losing so we made reservations for a pseudo-rustic cabin at one of the lodges at Lake in the Hills and started thinking about what we would need to take along.
We promised ourselves that we would pack "light," unlike our usual vacation trips. But then we started thinking about warm days and swimming and canoeing on the lake, and cool, maybe even chilly evenings - and always the possibility of rain this time of year. So despite our good intentions we ended up with a
large
suitcase, a large duffel bag, and Ally's personal carry-on suitcase with all her girl stuff, plus the new all-weather hooded jacket that Ally insisted that she needed.
Friday finally came around. I had some last-minute paperwork to do at the office before taking the next week off so we didn't actually get started on the drive to Lake in the Hills until 12:30.
We started driving, and an hour later we realized that we'd neglected to have lunch. Fortunately, we spotted a Steak 'n Shake and pulled in. Two Originals with cheese, two chocolate shakes, and we were back on the road.
It was fun, driving together like this. We talked about ... stuff. About things at school, and friends, and what we were going to do up at the Lake.
And we listened to music. Ally had created a playlist of things she wanted to listen to, so she plugged it into the jack in the Santa Fe and we listened. And I have to admit - not all of it was as bad as I feared. And my wonderful daughter had even put together a playlist for me - country and western, bands and groups of the eighties, plus U2, Hootie and the Blowfish, and all-time fave Aerosmith.
Time flew. Unfortunately so does the daylight at this time of year. Ally seemed to be looking for something, like someplace in particular.
"Last time we went to the Lake I remember seeing this motel along here that looked kinda nice ... there it is!
And, indeed, off on the right was a fairly modern looking "medium-sized" motel with a pine log office and lobby. Behind the office was a two story brick motel building. The pine log lettering on the pine-paneled sign said,
"Pineview Motel."
I figured that pines must be involved in some way.
I was able to slow down and made the turn into the blacktop parking lot. I was relieved to see the red neon
"Vacancy"
sign.
I pulled the car to a stop outside the office and turned off the ignition. Ally and I unbuckled our seatbelts and got out. I noticed that Ally seemed to be particularly eager to see the office. Vacation excitement, I guess.
We opened the lobby door and walked in. There was a young woman behind the front desk. Her back was turned to us and she was working on something on the desk behind her. When she heard the jingle of the "welcome" door bell she turned around and I could see her better.
She was tall - several inches taller than Ally - and slim, with a happy expression that made it seem like she was smiling, even when she wasn't. But the most striking thing about her appearance was the fine ginger-colored hair that fell to below her shoulders in kinky curls.
The funny thing is, when we walked into the office the girl behind the desk - "Hannah," the little plastic name tag said - she and Ally looked at each other, and I'd swear, it's like they recognized each other. The girl smiled, and it could have been my imagination but Ally seemed to smile back, but only for a second, but then the desk girl turned to me.
"Welcome to Pineview Motel. How can I help you?"
I told her it'd just be us, for one night. She said they had a nice big room in the part of the motel that's away from the highway, and she told me the rate.
But while I was signing the registration form and filling in the information about our car, out of the corner of my eye it looked like Ally and "Hannah" were looking at each other, like there was some kind of silent conversation going on between them.
I finished filling in our license plate number - it's been so long, I had to look out the window to read it off the rear of our car - and the girl ran my credit card and gave us two keycards and said, "You're in 219 - that's a nice king-bed room on the top level, last room on the left. It's quietest there and you'll have lots of privacy."
"King-bed room? Lots of privacy?" There were a whole lot of
presumptions
wrapped up in her brief instructions.
And then she said something else that I also thought was unusual. Totally out of the blue she says, "I get off at ten - I'll stop by then and see if you need anything." And she's looking at Ally when she's says this.
And it might have been my imagination, but it seemed like Ally looked back at her, and it looked like she gave the girl - Hannah - just the slightest nod.
We got in the car and drove around to the back of the motel and parked toward the center of the building where we figured the elevator would be. We got out and I popped the hatch lid. I grabbed the large suitcase and Ally's carry-on, Ally got the big duffel bag, and with her free hand she closed the hatch and together we went in the door and took the elevator to the second floor. We found our room - just like "Hannah" said, last room, on the side away from the highway. Ally slid the key card, and we went into the room.
And I gotta admit - my expectations were rather modest for a fairly ordinary looking hotel on a secondary highway in the middle of nowhere. Instead, the room was spacious and recently redecorated, and most important, it didn't have any suspicious smells like so many motel rooms do.
And just like "Hannah" said, there was the king-sized bed. Like I mentioned, it struck me as a bit strange when the girl made that remark. I asked Ally, "Did it seem strange, when the desk clerk said that she was giving us a king-bed room and said that part about a lot of privacy?" But it seemed like Ally just brushed off my question, instead focusing on the "incredible herbal shampoo" among the complimentary toiletries in the bathroom.
Each of us unpacked what we thought we'd need for the night.
"After all that driving, I think I'm going to take a shower. Should I save some hot water for you?" Ally said that she was going to take her shower closer to bedtime.
By the time I dried off and put on some clothes we both realized that our lunch burgers had worn off and we were hungry for a real meal. I called the office and whoever answered suggested a roadhouse-type restaurant about two miles down the road.
When we pulled into the lot I couldn't help but notice that the restaurant was log cabin construction. There seemed to be a lot of that in this neck of the woods. We parked and went inside. The place looked like what it was supposed to be - a Northwoods roadhouse-supper club kind of place. It was pretty busy - not surprising for a Friday evening - and I was afraid we would have to wait. We presented ourselves to the hostess, a later middle-aged woman who looked like someone's cheerful grandmother. She gave us a benevolent smile, like "Isn't that sweet - a father taking his young daughter out for a nice dinner." Well, yes, and no.
Anyhow, despite how busy they were the hostess was able to find us a small table near a window, left us with some menus, and bustled back to the hostess stand. We took time to look around, look out the window into the woods that were behind the restaurant, then started poring over the menus, which were surprisingly large and diverse for a place out in the middle of nowhere.
Ally and I both thought that we were ravenous, but once we took a look at the menu offerings, and especially at the size of the portions, we realized that maybe we should dial it back a bit. It wasn't that many hours ago that we'd had our Steak 'n Shake burgers and shakes, and we were going to be spending much of tomorrow just driving. Menu paralysis was about to set in when we saw one of the wholesome looking servers go by with what apparently was one of their dinner salads. We looked again at the menus and decided that maybe a hearty salad was just the thing for each of us.
Ally went with her reliable favorite, chicken Caesar salad with the house-made ranch dressing. I decided to be adventurous and get the oriental sliced beef salad. Since they didn't have to be baked, broiled, or grilled, our dinners came quickly. Ally's was huge and must have had a whole chicken breast in it. Mine looked like six large strips of marinated sirloin on a pile of romaine lettuce, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, and just enough red onion to add some "snap." As advertised, the Thai-oriental oil dressing was spot-on.
I guess our appetites had returned because we dug into our salads immediately, and other than telling each other how good tour dinners were we didn't talk much. I did notice that Ally checked her watch several times while we were eating. After we finished, the cheerful young server talked us into dessert - we decided to be prudent and ended up sharing a root beer float.
I paid and we got in the car, and by the time we got "home" to our room it was after 8:30. I saw Ally check her watch again. She decided that she'd take her shower now, and while she was showering I changed into a pair of drawstring pants and a good T-shirt with a Hawaiian design on it. When When Ally came out of the bathroom I saw that she hadn't bothered with anything special - just a plain tee and panties, not unusual when we're home alone and not expecting any company.
At 9:00 we turned on the TV and watched one of our favorite hospital drama shows. Ally was sitting on the bed with her back propped up against the headboard. After our four hours of driving, I opted for the single large upholstered arm chair. As the show was ending and they were running the final credits I started thinking that it might be time to enjoy some nice father-daughter - or husband-wife - vacation sex ...
But just when I was about to suggest that there was a knock on the door.