Scorch sat in the passenger seat of the Ford Explorer as I cruised along the Interstate toward Woodinville where I booked a pet-friendly bed & breakfast. Traffic backed up as the storm moved in. It began with a slow pitter-patter of rain, bouncing off the windshield and forming small puddles on the road, then quickly built into the worst weather I’d seen in quite some time. The wind howled, and the autumn leaves from the surrounding trees become confetti, hitting the car. Broken branches bounced off of the bumper and sounded like ammunition. Scorch circled in the seat, whimpered, and then tucked into a tight ball. I stroked his head.
“You’ll be fine. We’re almost there.”
Ten minutes later, we pulled up to a large cottage, with several small cabins scattered to the right and left of the main building. In person, The Wine Bar B&B didn’t even come close to the magnificent pictures they’d posted online. If it wasn’t late, stormy, and I wasn’t so darn tired, I’d cancel and find another place to stay. The lights were on in the main building but the cabins were dark. My raincoat was in the backseat, packed with everything else. Stupid mistake.
I left Scorch in the car and made a mad dash to the office. The rain fell like an ocean thrown from the sky. It soaked through my clothes. The front door stuck on the first try. At first I thought it was locked, but then it flung open after another hard tug. I stood there dripping on the worn-out shag carpet, when an older gentlemen appeared from the back room and shuffled in on a pair of brown slippers, to the checkin desk.
“Nasty weather,” he grunted.
I stepped up the counter and set my purse down. “I’m Finn Dubose. I have a reservation for three nights.”
He squinted over the top of his thick lensed glasses. “With the name Finn, well”—he paused and scratched the top of his head—“I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”
Even though I’d heard that a lot, my temper simmered. I was tired and grumpy. My sour mood must have shown on my face.
“N-No problem though, you’re my only guest,” he stammered. “Can I get your credit card please?”
“Sure,” I mumbled and handed him my card. Suddenly, a fork of lightning, brilliant and buzzing flashed brightly through the front window. The wind continued to howl like some horror movie opener. Perfect foreshadowing for what I imagined my cabin would look like.
“We just finished remodeling all the cabins and reopened last week. It’ll take a while before business picks up again.” He looked around the office. “We ran out of money for this place but maybe next year we’ll spruce it up.” He seemed pretty sure that was the reason he had no guests.
He clicked away on a laptop then handed back my credit card and a white rectangle keycard. “My name is Joe. Your cabin is on the end, number six. If you need anything, just give me a ring.”
“Thank you.” I ran back through the torrential rain, started my car, turned the heat on high and drove to the end of the parking lot. I petted Scorch’s head. He was shaking. “It’ll be great.” Was I reassuring my dog or myself?
I wrapped Scorch up like an infant in his blanket, covering him from head-to-toe and rushed to the door, slid the card in and the door opened to a very nice, clean room. Not a five-star room, but not a one-star either. I put Scorch down and he ran around and sniffed every corner, probably looking for a serial killer. Once the coast was clear of anyone wanting to cause us harm, I brought in my suitcases and dried off.
Sleep called to me, but Scorch needed to do his business, and eat before I could relax. Gran bought us matching red rain jackets before we left on our ?adventure? as she called it. Covered with a rain hat, my jacket and heavy jeans, I took a short walk with him around the block and spotted a diner. Scorch sat right inside the door as I ordered an Asian chicken salad to go. We ran back to the cabin. I fed Scorch and then relaxed on the bed with my salad and some soft music to drown out the storm. My eyes drooped as I slid under the covers after getting ready for bed and made the mistake of turning on the TV. I jumped awake when the old black and white movie Psycho appeared on the screen with the shower scene in its glory. I quickly flipped it off and Scorch hopped up on the bed next to me, shaking again.
What a wonderful welcome to Washington.
The weather hadn’t improved the next day but the forecast for the Eastern side of the mountains was better. That’s when I decided to check out and find a new place. Joe was disappointed we were leaving. I reassured him it wasn’t the cabin, and I didn’t feel bad for fibbing when a goofy grin formed on his face.