“If you feel that way about me, don’t come to visit,” Godfrey James yelled as the guard led him out of the Trenton Prison’s visiting room.
Alex James grit his teeth. After an argument with his estranged brother, Alex didn’t relish battling the rain to return to Manhattan. He’d be better off finding a cheap place to stay and getting something to eat. He could head back to the city the following morning. Good thing his boss knew that he was here. Ashamed of brother’s incarceration, he’d told Mr. Alcot that he checked in on his ailing aunt every Friday afternoon.
Alex hurried to the ticket counter in the bus station. “It’s pouring out there. When’s the next bus?”
“Sorry son. You just missed it. The next one isn’t until very later in the evening,” the agent replied.
Alex would have to go with Plan B.
“Do you know a place I can rent a room for the night?”
The man behind the window took one look at the dark circles under Alex’s eyes as well as his sagging shoulders and wrote a number on a slip of paper.
“Go to Maude’s B&B. It’s not the Hilton, but the rooms are clean, and the old lady makes a great breakfast. Tell her I sent you. She likes referrals.”
“Thanks,” Alex said walking out to the taxi stand.
En route to the inn, Alex popped another Tums into his mouth. The way his luck was running, the innkeeper was probably a crazy old lady.
A half hour later, the cab arrived at the B&B. Alex gathered his jacket collar tighter around his neck and inside. The rain, which subsided during the drive to Maude’s Inn, returned with a vengeance. After handing the driver a paltry tip, Alex raced up the rickety wooden steps and rang the bell.
“Who’s there?” a nervous voice asked.
Alex positioned himself in front of the peephole so the proprietress could look him over.
“My name is Alex Reynolds. The train station attendant said that you might have a vacancy.”
The door opened with a chain attached.
“Can I see some identification?” Maude Franklin asked.
Alex held his driver’s license at eye level. He heard the chain come off the latch.
“Sorry if I appeared a bit paranoid, but one never knows who’s roaming these streets with the prison so close,” she said.
Alex shook out his coat and hung it on a hook in the mud room and followed her into the parlor. The furnishings and draperies would have made an antique dealer’s heart flutter. On closer inspection though, Alex could see how worn the upholstery was and concluded that Maude had bought them at some show. She and her family were probably the original owners, and they made sure they got their money’s worth out of everything.
The proprietress had a thick neck and big chest. Plump hips were squeezed into a floral print dress about to give way at the seams. At five feet nine inches, she was a good sized woman. The lace trim and buttons on the cuffs and hem were as yellow as the woman’s cigarette stained teeth. Her cheeks matched her bloodshot eyes. The Gibson girl hairdo was about five decades too late to be considered stylish.
When Maude turned to leave the room, the seams in her stockings stood out like a sore thumb. “Please fill out the registry card on the coffee table. I’ll be back with a cup of tea and honey to warm you.”
Alex slipped out of his loafers and walked over to the living room fireplace to dry his soaking wet feet.
Maude returned with a dainty china tea cup and matching saucer.
He savored every sip of the hot liquid. “Thank you. It’s like my grandmother’s. I can taste the cinnamon and honey.”
He handed her the delicate china, which she placed on a lamp table.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room. It’s not fancy like those big city motels, but I keep it spic and span.”
Maude walked upstairs and opened the door. A four-poster bed took center stage in a room with starched curtains on two sets of windows. A fireplace was on the opposite wall. Paradise.
“I’ll get a fire going. It will keep you cozy through the night,” she said. “There are hot towels on the radiator. Why don’t you take a relaxing shower? I’ll go down and start dinner. I’ll call when it’s ready. It will be nice to have some company.”
“Are there any other guests?”
Maude shook her head. “Another prison visitor. He’s been moping in his room for two days. Sad story. See you in a bit.”
As soon as Maude closed the door, Alex stripped and hopped into the shower. The hot water and milled soap felt great on his skin. The day’s tension faded. The need for sleep superseded hunger.
Alex wrapped himself in a terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door and collapsed on the bed.
About an hour later, Maude knocked on the door. “Dinner is served.”
When Alex opened, she handed him his clothes, neatly pressed and on hangers.
He rolled his eyes. “They were soaking wet.”
Maude let go of a girlish giggle. “I raised three sons and a daughter. I’ve seen it all. While you were asleep, I took the liberty of laundering your clothes.”
Unaccustomed to kindness from st