Riley-Gothels InnMature

It had been a week that I had been staying at Gothels. I had volunteered to help Mrs. Willams, the kind lady who thought I was a young widower. I helped her with cooking and cleaning, which I enjoyed. By six days, I had used all of my cash, so I paid using my credit card.

One morning I walked quietly down stairs, my cutoffs and my tank top matching my flip flops which looked very nice with my straight hair. For one I gave a damn how I looked. Well, I did. A little.

“Hello, dear. You look mice this morning.” Mrs. Willams said as came into her sitting room, taking a cup of tea she had made for me.

“Thank you, Gram.” she had instead I called her Grandma. She had said, “Love, I want you to understand, I love you like my own.”

“Your welcome, dear. Now, tell me, since we don’t have any guests, about your husband. I want details.” I let out a little gulp. What was I going to say?

“Well, what would you like to know? He was very sweet and kind. I loved-I mean love, him.”

“What was the wedding like? Big? Small? I bet it was wonderful.” She smiled and urged me to tell.

“Well, it was wonderful. My wedding planner, Gina, had picked out the theme. It was Fairytale. I loved it. I had a big ball gown, my hair was down up, all curly.” Than I begin to cry-well acting. :And Daddy, he shook hands with Jackson and Dylan,” I begin to mumble on about random things that would be at a wedding. Mrs. Willams smiled and laid a hand on my back.

“It sounded wonderful. I would die to have that wedding. Now, have a cookie. It looks like we have a new guest.” She stood up and begin to walk to the front desk. I followed.

I rgoinzed the school as soon as I saw it. I let out a gasp and begin to ran up the stairs.

“Gram, I don’t feel good.” I called back. I ran into the room I rented and shut the door. I laid on the bed and listened.

“Hello, welcome to Gothels Inn! How can I help you?’’ Mrs. Willams said.

“Hi, I’m looking for Riley Jones. I know she’s here, so don’t say she isn’t.” Said a voice I knew. Jackson. Damn it!

“Damn it!” I whispered.

“Well, sir. There is no Riley Jones, but there is a Riley Barker. Poor thing lost her husband.” Silence. What was his comeback going to be? I got off the bed, and pressed my ear to the door.

“Yeah, poor thing. What is her room number?” Jackson said angrily.

“Room 303.”

The End

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