The Transplant ✔️

42. Rest Stop

Jobe's POV:

We were only gone a day and Jolie's phone was going off the hook with calls from her friend, Candy, and from her mom. My father didn't bother calling, and I couldn't say in was disappointed. I had to keep my eyes on the road, even as weary as they are. The sun shining on the sides of the visor had stricken me with sleepiness, and I couldn't wait to stop driving. I was lucky however, to be granted cruise control in this truck; without for that, I'd never be able to drive.

We took many stops for snacks and gasoline, probably too many stops because it was already dark out and we weren't nearly there. We had plenty of time to get to our destination, thankfully so.

Even though the trip was long, Jolie was good company to have around. The conversation had averted from my breakup with Lisa to random stuff like the funny animals seen in the clouds and then to lessons on the incorrect usage of song lyrics. It was a good day filled with conversation, but I was growing weak. Jolie offered to drive, and although I had no fit with her using my truck, I'd never have a lady drive me around. See, I could be a gentleman when I wanted.

"Why don't we stop now? I think we've driven enough." Jolie yawned, twinkling eyes staring back at me.

I commended her on her effort to stay awake for this long, but I agreed on taking a stop now that it was dark.

"Okay, I'll pull over at the next stop. Did you have any where in mind to stay on your itinerary?"

"No, I planned activities, not hotel stays. I hadn't had a chance to find hotels." She said.

"Look for the next exit sign for a hotel. It's hard to see in the dark." Besides my poor eye sight from lack of sleep, my lights weren't putting out enough light to see the signs clearly.

The next three exit passed, and we might have been making headway om our trip, but that didn't phase us at the moment. Both tired and our of energy, I pulled over at the next exit, not bothering to look at a sign, but praying that there would be some sort of hotel.

There wasn't a hotel, but there was plantation home. I didn't know much about plantations, but I knew they were known for killer bed and breakfasts, hence the breakfast part.

"I'm stopping here." I knew she wouldn't fight me on this one. Hell, we were ready to sleep in my truck.

This antebellum plantation was in colonial style, white in color, with eight columns of pine on each two stories. It was a clear path to the plantation, which is an offset to most of the forestry you see in antique pictures of plantations.

We took our bags up the long walkway, finally entering the doorway. The door was unlocked, so I allowed Jolie to walk in first before going in myself.

"Hi, can I help you?" The lady at the front desk, with a mile wide smile, warmly greeted us. Her silver name tag read, Sheila, and the name under read, Nottington Hideaway Plantation.

"Yes, we'd like to reserve a spot for tonight. I know it's late, so we don't expect a fancy room, or any special treatment if there's nothing available. But if you have something unreserved, it would be so nice to have somewhere to sleep tonight." Jolie took initiative and spoke first, and I didn't mind because she's more persuasive than me.

"We have one spot available." I knew that with only one room available, that meant only one bed, that much was obvious. I guess sleeping on the floor could get comfy with how tired I already am.

"We will take it." I jumped at the chance for the room.

"Splendid! Welcome to Nottington. This is a very spacious plantation that you're free to roam around in. The doors lock at eleven, but the back doors will unlock for our guests with a room key. For your night's stay, you will be getting one queen in the Oxford suite. Cullen Oxford was the original owner, who was a hard-working carpenter in the 1700s. Supposedly, he's seen wandering the halls of the bottom floor, and his wife Mary, a seamstress, is seen cutting articles of clothing to tease the guests.

"Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me this place is haunted?" Jolie asked.

"Have you never heard of this plantation? I can't speak for myself, but many of guests have reported spiritual sightings, dear."

"Great." Jolie nervously laughed.

We took our keys and went to our room on the bottom floor. The flickering lights made the hallway almost unbearable to see. I stayed close behind Jolie, known the stories Sheila told her had spooked her a bit. I guess that's why plantation homes were so 'romantic'. Take a girl here and keep her up all night scared to death; that makes total sense.

Our door, number twelve, creaked open and we were greeted with the musky scent of linens, and a similar darkness from the hallway.

Neither of us unpacked, throwing everything on top of the ottoman by the bed. We made no time to shower. I was a bit grimy, but I wasn't going to take a shower with Jolie in the room. The next thing I'd know is she'd try to take a shower after me, and I really don't need those thoughts in my head.

"I'll take the floor." I told her.

"No, I'll take the floor. You can have the bed." She argued, pulling her brown hair into a loose bun.

"I don't want the bed." I lied.

"If you take the floor, I'll take the floor." She was so stubborn, even when she was tired.

"Then get in bed with me." My mouth like sand paper from my own comment. It wasn't supposed to sound so seductive or demanding, but it was too late to take it back.

Jolie stood straight, her eyes fixed on the bed and then back at me.

"Alright." Simple enough reply, but exhilarating nonetheless.

I ripped my shirt off, deciding if I couldn't sleep in boxers, the least I could do was be semi comfrotable on the bed.

I crawled in, careful not to touch her end of the bed. I turned on my left side, heart racing no matter what I did to train my brain to calm it down. I soon felt the right end of the bed slump down, and a knowing presence rested beside me. I could hear Jolie breathing, and I hoped she could breathe for both of us because I couldn't breathe at all.

The sheets pull away from my shoulder, and that same woman was moving under the blankets. Drawn to the siren, I spin around in bed, face to face with Jolie. She was covered to the neck, eyes wide open.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Jobe, do you think that worker was serious? Do you think it's haunted?" She whispered.

"I don't know; it's a possibility." I was torn between being honest and telling her what she wanted to hear.

Jolie turned to her back, looking up at the ceiling, and I did the same. I watched as the ceiling fan went around and around, as we both waited for sleep to find us. Deja vu, as I stared off at the ceiling like I did multiple times at home. On sleepless nights, I get lost in thought about what I wanted to do in life, what passions to pursue, who to pursue. Then my thoughts instantly bring me to Jolie, the one girl who's in this bed with me.

I turned back to Jolie again, one hand under my pillow, the other to my side.

"Still can't sleep? Scared?" I asked.

"Yes." She admitted.

"Come here." I took my chance and cradled her in my arms. I scooted closer, letting me hand sit on the other side of her waist. My stomach was pressed against her tiny back, fitting like a glove behind her. I could smell her shampoo, God, it was like heaven. Her silky hair had fallen out of her bun, brushing against my face.

She didn't shy away, in fact, she seemed to calm down from her sudden fear of ghosts.

A few seconds later, Jolie's hand hovered over my wrist, taking it away from the bed sheets and onto her cold shoulder. My head shoots up, wondering if this was real.

I had to tell myself she was asleep, and that she didn't know what she was doing. I didn't dare move, keeping her warm in the comfort of my arms. My head slips back down, falling onto her pillow, her head just below mine. Jolie moved again, snuggling closer against me. I wound myself tightly against her until my left leg fit in the middle of both of hers. We were cuddling, like two lovers, and I loved it. I was a single man now, but more commited than ever.

Looks like a haunted plantation is the perfect place to take a girl.