When the Hydrangea Flowers Bloom

Chapter Eight: The Inn

We walked through a stone path, leading up to a small porch. There was a little bell that Arthur rang. Loud footsteps from inside ran to the door. The top half opened revealing a small, old woman.

"Hello! How can I help you?" She asked, cheerily.

"We were looking for three rooms," Arthur said.

"Come in, come in." The lady opened the whole door and motioned for us to come in. We followed her to a little desk, which she walked behind. She opened a book, filled with neat handwriting. "Let me see here..." She read the most recent pages. "It looks like we only have two free rooms. Lots of people have been coming here to rest from the traffic."

"Yes, that's what we're doing." Arthur said. He turned to us. "Since there's only two rooms, we'll have to share."

"Eugene and I could share a room, right?" I turned to Eugene.

"Erm, I don't think that's a good idea..." He looked nervous.

"How many beds in a room?" I asked the lady.

"One room has just the bed; it's the cheapest, and the other has one bed and a small living room." She informed us.

"One of us could sleep on the couch," I said. "Don't be such a prude." I poked him in the arm. He sighed.

"Fine, it'll have to do."

"Wonderful!" the old lady said. "Right this way." She led us to Arthur's room first. We bade him good night and walked upstairs. We walked to the end of a short hallway. She unlocked the door and handed Eugene the key. "Here we are. You have a good night now!"

The room was small, but not tiny. The walls were painted a dark emerald green and the bottom half of the walls were covered in dark wood paneling. There was a queen sized bed pushed on the back wall with two nightstands on either side. In front of the bed there was a little living room area. A couch, a chair and a table facing a small fireplace. There was a cozy bay window with a comfortable looking bench.

I walked over to the couch and sat down. It was a dark floral patterned fabric with dark oak accents. Eugene walked over to the bay window and opened the windows. A warm summer breeze wafted in, making the dust from some of the unused books and furniture dance around.

"You should take the bed," I told him.

"No, it's okay. I can sleep on the couch." He sat down on the bay window bench.

"I insist. I'm smaller."

"Are you sure?" I nodded. "Okay. Fine."

We rested in our room for a while. I pulled out a book and Eugene pulled out a sketchpad. We sat in silence for a long time, but it was nice. It was comfortable and warm. After an hour or two, I got tired again. I put my book away and lay down on the couch. I looked at Eugene drawing feverishly, and the sunset behind him. The thin curtains flowing into the room majestically. If I could paint, I would paint that.

It wasn't until much later that night that I woke up. The windows were still open, and the warm breeze had turned to a cold one. I could see the embers from a fire in the fireplace, but it had long since burned out. There were two trays on the coffee table, one with nothing but crumbs and a tiny bit of soup left and another one, completely full. It took me a couple seconds to realize why I woke up, but I heard more footsteps and realized why.

Eugene quietly crept over to the windows and closed them. The curtains fell to a stop. I thought that he would go back to the bed, but he walked over to the couch, so I closed my eyes. I felt him scoop me up and bend a little bit under my weight. He wouldn't ever admit it, but even though he tried, he wasn't the strongest man. He slowly carried me over to the bed, pulled off my shoes and covered me with the blanket. I waited for him to lay down next to me, but he never did. I glanced over to the couch and saw his feet stick out from one end and the tip of his head, the other.

...

I woke up before Eugene did, so I quietly slipped my shoes back on and walked into the hallway. A clock on a little decorative table read 8:14. I walked downstairs to find a small breakfast buffet.

"Good morning, dear!" the old woman said. "How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfly, thank you." I replied.

"That's lovely. Help yourself to anything on the table, and there's tea on that table over there." She pointed to a table on the other end of the dining room.

"Thank you," I said. I grabbed a plate from a stack and scooped some food onto my plate, some scrambled eggs and buttered toast. It wasn't the best food, but it satisfied my starving stomach.

Arthur came into the room, just as I was finishing up. "Oh, hello miss!" He said.

"Good morning, Arthur!" I stood up and put my empty plate into a bin.

"Where's the lad?" He asked as he heaped food onto a plate.

"Eugene? Still asleep. He's always tired, so I didn't want to wake him."

"Well, we'll be leaving at ten o'clock, so meet me at the front desk then," he said.

"Sounds wonderful."

I walked back upstairs, expecting Eugene to still be on the couch, but he wasn't there anymore. "Eugene?" I called.

"In here," he responded. I followed his voice to a little bathroom on the right wall where he was washing his face.

"Oh! I didn't even notice this before!" I said.

"Yeah, it's a bathroom. Not much to see." He was right. It was a small bathroom with a bathtub pushed to the back wall, a toilet next to it and a sink next to that.

I walked out and sat down on the bed. "Arthur said that we're leaving at ten. It's eight thirty now."

"Brilliant." He walked out and sat down on the couch. He pulled out his journal and started to write some more. How much could he possibly write?

I sat and looked around awkwardly. After a couple minutes of silence, I cleared my throat.

"I noticed you brought me to the bed last night."

"Oh. Yeah. You were shivering, so I thought you would be warmer in the bed." He kept his head down, looking at his journal.

I walked over to the chair and looked at him. "Thank you."

He looked up at me and smiled. "Anytime."

We spent the next hour wandering the neighborhood. It was quite lovely. There were lots of little houses spread about, trees and all sorts of plants separating them. There were fields where you could see the mountains and hills.The main road was wide, with small white fences on either side. It was dirt, so everytime a carriage went by, a small dust storm flew up into the air. Trees on either side of the road curved in, creating a tunnel of trees. Every few hundred feet, we passed a small house or small farm.

As we walked down, we passed a small grassy hill, so naturally, I ran up and forced Eugene to come with me. There were dandelions amidst the bright summer grass that was fading already. We sat on the top and talked, and I rolled down a couple times alone before I convinced Eugene to join in. There was a warm breeze, but sometimes cold bursts hit, reminding everyone that summer was ending.

When Eugene finally checked his watch, it was already 9:57 and we were 15-20 minutes from the inn. We ran down the hill and up the road until I heard a carriage sputtering from behind and stuck out my thumb. Eugene followed suit and in a few seconds, the carriage pulled over.

It was a nice old farmer who was heading in the direction of the inn. He let us sit in the back, and with the horses pulling, the ride to the inn was only five minutes away. We made it back to the inn at 10:04, but it wasn't too late. Arthur hadn't been waiting too long.

He led us back to the car, and since we hadn't planned to stay, there was nothing to pack up except my bag and Eugene's backpack. The nice inn owner came outside to wave us goodbye and soon we were driving past the hill where Eugene and I had just been.