“Morning, sugar,” she said in her brittle voice that was lilting at the same time it was abrasive. She held two steaming mugs of coffee and a white bakery bag was tucked under one arm.
“Hello, Dana.” Sara blinked repeatedly to bring her eyes back into focus and stepped away, allowing Dana to enter. Dana knew there was a coffeemaker in the room; she’d put it there herself, but Sara figured she was lonely and liked Sara’s company. Sara had to admit the same to both. As long as Dana was willing to bring her coffee and doughnuts in the morning and chitchat for an hour or so, Sara was happy to accept.
Her hair was teased up around her head, a white-blond Q-tip with a brown stick-like body beneath it. Her brown eyes were lined with black eyeliner and her eyelids were shadowed with midnight blue. Rouge cheeks and apple red lips completed the artwork that was her face. That wasn’t what had made Sara see temporary spots though. That credit had to be given to her ensemble of a sequined top of red, white, and blue stars, red capris, and white heels.
“It’s the Fourth of July,” she informed Sara, sitting down at the small table by the doors.
Sara sat down across from her. “Oh?” It had completely escaped her what the day was. Cole and Lincoln had both always been big on the annual fireworks display put on at Kronshage Park in Boscobel. Sara tagged along for something to do. She wondered if Lincoln would be going to it this year.
She accepted the coffee Dana pushed toward her, taking a careful sip. Dana made excellent coffee. It was strong, but not bitter. Smooth and flavorful.
Dana removed two napkins from the bag and placed an oversized cinnamon roll on each, setting one in front of Sara. Her stomach growled as the smell of frosting and cinnamon and sugar hit her.
“’Bout time you got your appetite back,” Dana commented after eyeing her for a beat. “You were all skin and bones when you got here.” She sniffed, pulling a piece of her roll off and dipping it into her coffee before taking a bite.
“How did you end up in Waupun, Dana?” Sara asked, taking a bite of her roll. The sweet bread was heaven to her taste buds, somehow thick and fluffy at the same time.
“Fourth husband owned this Godforsaken motel,” she said with a grimace.
Sara gave her a surprised look. “You don’t like it? You take such good care of it. The housekeepers do an excellent job. The outside is clean and well-maintained and the flowerbeds are so pretty. It’s a nice place, Dana. Truly.”
Dana sat up straighter at the praise. “Of course it is. As you said, I take good care of it.”
“Where is the fourth husband?” Sara asked, hiding a smile behind her coffee cup.
She snorted. “Don’t know, don’t care. He split, leaving me with this place.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He was a liar and a cheater and I’m glad to be rid of him. Plus, I love this place.”
Sara didn’t point out that Dana had just contradicted herself. It wouldn’t do any good. She was crabby and also refreshing at the same time. Sara thought her placement here, in this town, in this motel, near Dana, was perfect. The ache for Lincoln was there, always, but she was doing okay.
“You’re my date for the fireworks,” Dana announced, finishing off her cinnamon roll.
“Your date?”
“I sit out on the deck and watch them. You can keep me company. Not like you have anything better to do anyway, here without your man like you are.”
Sara stiffened, lowering her coffee cup. “What?”
Dana got to her feet, her knees cracking, and rolled her eyes. “Oh, you. It’s obvious you’re hurting. I know all there is to know, Sara. A look like that in your eyes; it’s from a man. I’ve had it in my eyes many times. You love him,” she stated bluntly.
She looked at the partially eaten cinnamon roll, fingers tightly clenched around the coffee mug. “I do.”
“You love him, yet you’re here. Why?”
“My husband—“
“Is dead,” Dana interrupted, moving to the door. “I’ve kept tabs on you, dear, especially after your parents passed. You always intrigued me. Such a somber young child; not talking much, always observing. You were special, even as a child. And obviously there’s a man out there that feels the same. Some people aren’t lucky enough to find love once, and you’ve found it twice. Remember that.”
***