Page 17 of Princess Seeks Dragon
“That’s cool.” It is, and my miserable insides perk up a little. “I love facts like that. Too bad you can’t major in obscure trivia or plant parenting.”
Libby chuckles. “No, but you could get a job at Onyx Farms or Kane Landscaping and Garden Center.”
Is that what I want? A life on the run, in hiding, working around lawn mowers and potted plants?
“Maybe.”
***
THE NIGHT MARKET REMINDSme of the St. Anthony’s Christmas Bazaar. My mom, grandmother, and I would go every year, at least twice, because it ran for the whole first week of December. The same good vibes—everyone knowing everyone else. Libby’s husband is a huge dude in the biggest Metallica hoodie I’ve ever seen. His stall is flanked by two gray cats who sit among daggers and necklaces like living bookends. All the men in Pine Ridge are tall—at least the ones who Libby hails with a friendly smile. Before I know it, I’m holding a 20% off coupon from Chloe’s Curiosities (a secondhand stall), a fudge sample that rivals the copper kettle fudge sold in Cape May, a cup of lemonade, and a bag of buttery, salty popcorn.
“Why are people so nice here?” I finally crack and ask the crowd that’s now tagging along with Libby, Milo, and me— two hulking men who hang back and talk trash about each other’s canasta skills, and their wives, Claire and Melinda.
“You have to rely on each other around here. The town sees some harsh weather,” Genesis says.
“College kids come and go, you get close with your neighbors,” Georgie, the third tall drink of water, shrugs, his deep voice gruff.
“There aren’t any big department stores in the town itself, just on the highways leading out of it,” Milo adds. “So everyone has to shop in the same little places, get to know the same servers and staff...”
“Because nice people live here,” Melinda says firmly, tossing her long red waves. “Honey, we have a date night to get back to,” she hooks Genesis by the elbow, and even though he’s so tall I have to crane my neck to look at his dark, craggy features, he practically simpers and follows like he’s on a leash. “Welcome to Pine Ridge, Angela! You’ll love it here.”
I hope she’s right.
***
LIBBY DROPS ME OFFat the motel and shows me how the place works. Vacant rooms accept cards in slots, and you get your room at the touch of a button. In my case, the room’s pin pad has a cash slot, and I insert three twenties and get a ten-dollar bill spit back at me.
“That’s new,” she mutters. “I thought they just accepted cards. Oh, well. The Country Pines Motel has a local legend around it.”
“Not haunted?” I ask, suddenly aware that there are no other cars in the lot but hers. Oh, yep. If this were a horror movie, the ax murderer would be emerging from the woods right about now...
“No, no. But whoever spends a night here gets just what they need.”
“A million bucks and a plane ticket under my pillow?” I joke. I realize I could have had both things, probably, if I’d gone along with the idea of being someone’s princess plaything. “How’d the legend get started?”
Libby shrugs. “Something about the owners being kind people, I think.”
I push open the door, half-wincing. For fifty bucks a night, I’m expecting something squalid. Hell, I’m still half expecting to turn around and see Libby’s giant of a husband with a chainsaw and a ski mask.
But the room is beautiful—softly lit with beige and pink accents, and complimentary slippers that look like cotton clouds are just inside the door. With a little cry, I peel my sneakers off but pause when I get to my socks, realizing I still have an audience.
“I’ll leave you to it. In the morning, you can get a ride to town with your rideshare app.”
I waggle my “dumb” phone at her. “No apps.”
“Oh, man. A classic,” Libby giggles, and then rummages in her purse. She pulls out a veterinarian office’s business card and writes a number on the back. “That’s my cell. Let me know if you need a ride tomorrow.”
“Libby, thank you, but I—”
“It’s not a big deal,” she waves me off. “I moved here a couple of years ago, and people took me right under their wings. The least I can do is return the favor. Have a good night. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Libby drives off, and I hear my mom’s voice in my head. You can cry when you get somewhere safe.
This seems safe. And there are slippers waiting. And a big comfy bed...
Exhausted sobs slip out of me, but they’re mixed with relief.
Safe for now.
