Chapter Thirty-One
Nathan
The view from our next motel was amazing, I made sure of that. Then I rented the honeymoon suite complete with champagne and roses.
"Nathan, you shouldn't have. We don't have that much cash left," she told me.
I shrugged and poured her a glass of champagne. "Doesn't matter. I can get a job now. I wasn't lying when I said I could fix the air conditioning in our car. Maybe I can land some work at a mechanics shop."
"Did you tell the clerk we were married?" Bree asked.
I smiled. "We are Mr. and Mrs. Cramer for right now. We never talked about new names. You have any ideas?"
Bree's eyes drifted out of our motel room and over the Rocky Mountains. "I need to pick out a new name."
She hadn't thought all the way through our crazy plan. Not only would our friends and family hear that we were dead, but we needed to create whole new lives for ourselves from scratch. And that meant changing our names and never looking back.
"It'll be fun," I said. "We can try the names out and see what you like the best. I think we should start with something sexy. How about Veronica?"
Bree made a face. "You think the name Veronica is sexy?"
I was glad to see her smile again even if it was accompanied by a rueful rolling of the eyes at my jokes. "You're right," I said. "We should start with Mildred."
Bree glanced out at the stunning view again. "At least you got us a decent room this time. Though I don't recall our wedding."
I shook my head gravely. "Mr. and Mrs. Cramer did not have good taste. I think there was an Elvis impersonator involved but Mr. Cramer was too drunk to remember much."
She groaned and answered my teasing with tickling. "Why don't you make yourself useful, Mr. Cramer, and turn on the hot tub?"
"Yes, ma'am." I tipped an imaginary hat at Bree and turned to flip on the heart-shaped tub.
Steam started to cover the front window of our motel room before Bree tore herself away. She slipped off her robe and joined me in the bubbling water with a faraway look.
"Maybe we can take a hike tomorrow or something," Bree said. "People won't ask too many questions if we're just walking along in the woods, would they?"
I knew how she felt. Despite the good view and comfortable room, we had been cooped up in the car for too long. Part of it was for our safety; we needed to make sure our hoax went over before we ventured out together. Mostly it was because neither of us had any idea what our next move should be. That question hung over us heavier than the honeymoon suite's plastic chandelier.
"Remember that rib-eye steak we had one town over?" My mouth watered just thinking about the delicious meal.
Bree's forehead furrowed. "We can't go back. They'd notice us then."
"I know." I sighed and sunk lower in the bubbling water. "Though I could pick up two dinners to go. No one would think twice about that."
"You should get another bottle of wine, too." Bree finished her glass of champagne and poured another.
"Planning on getting drunk?" I asked. Bree's quiet and pale face worried me.
She nodded. "I think Mrs. Cramer might drink. It helps her forget."
I tried not to worry too much about Bree's comment. Instead, I pulled myself out of the hot tub and found the name of the steakhouse in the motel directory.
"I'll be back in twenty minutes at the longest," I said. "It's an easy drive."
I moved the champagne bottle far from the hot tub and locked the motel room behind me. It was a short drive but I sped down the mountain road, worrying about Bree. I felt elation, freedom. There was an anchor of guilt, too, but I was ignoring that for as long as I could.
All I knew was that Bree and I were safe for now. Something told me we needed to rest up and enjoy ourselves while we could.
The steakhouse was jammed packed, and I didn't see the state patrol car until I was already up the front steps. The door swung open but the two women coming out only looked at me to flirt.
"Ladies," I said.
They giggled and smiled then went their way as if there was nothing wrong with me. I started to warm to the idea of good old Mr. Cramer.
The steaks were ready and packed but I still left a regular tip to avoid being remembered. I started to rush back to the motel when I saw the trailhead. I pulled the car over and walked a few hundred yards up the trail. When no one could see me from the road, I plucked a quick bouquet of wildflowers.
Now armed with a bouquet and news of a nearby hike, I rushed back to the motel and Bree.
She was out of the hot tub and perched at the end of the motel room's king-sized bed. The volume was down low but she jumped when I shut the door behind me.
"Oh, Nathan. I was just flipping through the channels," Bree said.
I ignored the television as Bree scrambled to turn it off. "Honey, I'm home! And these are for the lovely Mrs. Cramer."
Bree bounced off the bed, almost losing her towel, when she saw the bouquet of wildflowers. "Oh, Nathan, thank you! They're beautiful."
"And there is a nice five-mile hike just down the road. We can probably walk to the trailhead, too, so we don't have to worry about the car," I said.
Bree gave a happy sigh. "Thank god. I can't wait to get out of this room and stretch my legs."
"Yeah," I said. "It'll be good to get you away from the TV."
"Wow, dinner smells great. Let me set the table."
She bustled around the room, put the flowers in a cup of water, and set out the steak dinners on the small motel table. Bree was hoping I hadn't noticed her glued to the news channel or at least she was hoping I wouldn't bring up the conversation again.
I had to bring it up. "Bree, I told you not to worry. You don't have to try to catch every little headline. How long did you spend in the motel lobby checking news websites?"
"Only an hour," Bree said.
"Two at least." I opened a bottle of red wine I had stashed in my duffle bag. "You have got to stop obsessing over the car wreck. I'm sure it happens so often on that stretch of road that they don't report every incident."
"It rolled off a cliff, tore up the entire embankment, and caught on fire," Bree said. "How is that not on the news?"
I poured two large drinking glasses of red wine. "You have to let it go. If we're going to do this, we have to go all in. The past is dead. We're new people now. We could be the Cramers."
"Reminds me of a bad sitcom couple," Bree said.
I sat down at the motel table across from her. "See? You've been watching too much TV."
Bree cut a bite off her steak and savored it. Then she said, "Let's work on your name. You've always seemed like a Eugene to me."
I threw a piece of parsley at her. "Is that really the name you want to be calling out in bed?"
Bree blushed. "I do not yell out your name in bed."
"Sounds like a challenge," I countered.
"Not so fast, Eugene. I plan to enjoy a civilized dinner first," Bree said.
"Yeah, that name is not going to work for me."
She smiled. "No? Then how about Gilbert?"
"I was thinking Jackson," I said.
"Not unless you're planning to wear a cable knit sweater and hang out in ski lodges," Bree said. She chewed another delicious bite. "How about Hank? Lots of mechanics seem to be named Hank."
I polished off my steak and licked my fork. "Honey, you can call me whatever you want. In bed."
Bree threw her napkin at me. I caught it and jumped out of my seat to give her a kiss. She tasted of red wine, and I couldn't stop drinking her in. She was breathless when I pulled back.
"You just want to try to make me cry out your name," Bree said.
"Doesn't sound too bad, does it?" I pulled her up and kissed her again.
All she could do was smile as we fell together onto the honeymoon suite's king-sized bed.