Chapter 4: Triangles

The Lakeside Motor Inn had a vending machine, a flickering ice maker and one room left with two beds.

Birdie bounced on the nearest one in her pajamas, still carrying the stuffed rabbit she had grabbed from the porch.

"Is this a hotel?"

"It's a motel," I said. "A small hotel with the car right outside."

"Can we get room service?"

"There's no room service."

Her face fell. "Then what do we eat?"

I had four dollars in cash and a bank card my father could cancel in the morning.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took out my phone.

I didn't have to look for the number.

I had read it on the gauze wrapper so often in the car that I knew it by heart.

I typed: "My hand is fine. Do you know anywhere that delivers a grilled cheese cut in triangles?"

The reply came before I put the phone down.

"Where are you?"

Twenty minutes later someone knocked.

Eli stood in the doorway in a gray T-shirt and jeans, holding a paper bag and a gas station bag of apple slices.

"I didn't know if she'd eat the crusts," he said.

"She won't," I said.

"Hi, bug," he said over my shoulder. "I brought a sandwich."

Birdie looked at him with her chin up. "Are you the man who looked in my eyes?"