The pains of traveling – the aching head, the sour stomach, the stiff legs – had started to dissipate as soon as she exited the highway, and now, five miles later, Hazel was feeling fresh as a dew covered posey. The road turned in front of her, following the valley, and in an instant she could see it all. Juniper laid out in front of her, and the Lodge rising above.
It was exactly as she had remembered it. Well, almost exactly. There was now some ugly architectural disaster parked halfway up the northern slope. But besides that, the town was as she had left it. She purposely took a detour to go around town and come through the middle, down Main Street. She wanted to see the candy and ice cream shop she had gone to as a child. The general store. When she saw the dollar movie theater was still operating she made an embarrassing noise.
Hazel had been coming to Juniper with her family her entire life. Other families went to the ocean when it was hot, but her father had hated the sand and her mother was afraid of the ocean. Lakes were better, they agreed, and every summer they had spent two weeks at the lodge. Since growing up she had come back here when her life had gotten rough, which mostly meant when she got divorced. This trip to Juniper marked her fourth marriage down the crapper.
The Lodge, like her, was a little older and a little more worn. But also like her (she liked to think) it still had all the same charms. It was a wooden building, lovingly repainted red every summer. The driveway looped in front of the main building. Two wings went off in opposite directions flanking the lake, sixteen rooms on either side. Hazel parked and left most of her bags in the trunk of her rental. There was only about a half hour of daylight left, and Hazel wanted to spend that time sitting at the bar and watching the lake through the tall windows. She’d get her bags later.
The Grand Room of the Lodge was rearranged a little, but nothing that soured Hazel’s mood like that house up the slope had. The oversized fireplace was still in the center of the room, the flames putting off heat she could feel as soon as she stepped inside. They had moved the check-in desk closer to the front door, replacing the old desk with a little counter that sold packaged food and drinks. Beyond the fireplace was the Holly Creek Bar and Grill, table scattered around until they reached the windows. In the far corner was the bar, several televisions showing different basketball games.
Hazel breathed deep, and found perhaps the only thing on the planet that could soothe her soul no matter what situation she was in: the smell of the fire, the must of the old carpet and wallpaper, and the damp of the snow. A smell that had followed her back through childhood and could erase thirty years of bad memories. She wasn’t a fifty-something multiple-divorcee with a couple of kids who hated her and a few former step-kids who tolerated her. She was ten, it was summer vacation, and her parents were going to take her out on the swan paddle boats.
The man behind the counter smiled at her as she walked up, revealing a few gaps.
“Welcome to the Lodge on Juniper Lake. Did you have a reservation?”
The old beige computer and clunky monitor had been replaced with a flatscreen. The man with the gap-toothed smile was impressively fast with the keyboard, considering he was pecking away with only two fingers. The reflection of the monitor on his face changed as her reservation was brought up, and somehow his smile got even bigger.
“Yes, Miss Augustine! You’re one of our lifers. You know, even when you walked in I thought I recognized you. Didn’t say nothing, in case I was wrong.”
“It’s been a while,” she said, trying to hide how pleased she was. “But I always love coming back here.”
“And we love having you! In fact, let’s get you out of that single room and into a suite.”
Hazel waved a hand. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” the man agreed. “But I want to.”
She didn’t put up any more of a fight. It was, in fact, exactly what she was hoping would happen.
“How was your travel?” the man asked as he poked at the keyboard to make the transfer happen.
“As good as it ever could be,” Hazel said. “Flights were on time, there wasn’t a big line at the rental car place…actually, come to think of it, I think the worst part of the whole day was the man sitting across the aisle from me on the last flight.”
He’d left Hazel’s mind, the way minor annoyances do when they finally stop, but now that she was thinking of him again she was mad all over.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to fly when you’re sick.”
And he hadn’t just been sick. He’d been sick. There hadn’t been a single full minute without him coughing, hacking, sneezing, wheezing, snorting, or sniffling. Absolutely nonstop. And he’d looked like death warmed over. Pale, bags under his eyes, even a light sheen of sweat over his forehead. He shouldn’t have been flying. He shouldn’t have been anywhere besides the ER, probably.
“Thank goodness I had my vitamin C powder.”
Hazel had once again forgotten about the sick man by the time she reached her upgraded room. The view of the lake from the private deck was enough to make her forget about everything, even her latest disaster of a marriage. Well, the bottle of wine she ordered from the bar would help.
If it hadn’t been Hazel, it would have been someone else. The hotel had two other check-ins that day, and more scheduled for every day that week. Besides, Juniper was no island. The high school had teams that went to other towns to play. Some commuted down the highway for work. Everyone had family to visit. It was always going to come to Juniper.
Hazel being the local patient zero was pure luck.
High Urban Fantasy Jazz 