Third Time’s The Charm

He was on the cusp of a dream that had something to do with weddings when Nathan was forcefully awoken by the incessant beeping of a clock alarm. Underneath the noise, he could hear someone cooking over the single hot plate in the kitchenette. After turning the alarm off and rolling around reluctantly in bed for a few minutes, Nathan finally tossed his legs over the edge and got up.

In the bathroom, he washed his face and took a razor to the stubble that had sprouted over the last twenty-four hours. After rinsing, he tipped a bottle of his favorite aftershave into the palm of his hand, rubbed his hands together, and massaged the lotion onto the smooth, shaved area. His skin pleasantly chilled as it dried, the familiar smell of eucalyptus and mint clinging to his face. 

Nathan felt at home in the motel room. Quite literally, because he had lived in this particular motel for his whole life since he was born. It confused others at first when he introduced this fact to them but as he explained, it made a lot of sense. When they asked what it was like, he didn’t know what to say other than it felt like home. Yes, there was a pool and it was awesome during the summer. No, it didn’t feel too small because he used his room primarily for sleeping and spent most of his time outside.

He used to think that people went to a motel with only one intention, and that was to sleep. Nathan was an adult now and knew better. It was during the summer before his last year of high school that he became aware of the fact that though people indeed came to motels to sleep, there were a myriad of other reasons why someone might visit one. Nathan learned that from someone he didn’t think about anymore—except occasionally when he applied his preferred aftershave—a man called Howard Donley.

______________________

They were lucky tonight. Only two towels and one hair dryer were missing—easily replaceable. For as much as people take things, they also leave many things. This evening, he found two chargers, two pairs of reading glasses, and one wedding ring. The wedding ring was a thick, gold band that was too big for any of his fingers. Nathan wondered if all married people took off their rings before going to sleep. That would explain why he found so many during his cleaning shifts, part of his chores that would increase now that he was on summer break.

When he got back to the lobby, he dumped the chargers and reading glasses into a bin marked FREE on the same table as the water dispenser. People almost never came back for these things, so they allowed other guests to use them. He went behind the reception counter and put the ring into a sealed plastic bag, stapling a label to it. He would put it in the lockbox for valuable lost-and-found items. There were several other abandoned wedding rings in there along with jewelry, wallets, and cell phones. His mother told him they never removed anything from that box unless someone came back to claim something. She said the last thing they needed was a lawsuit. 

Nathan’s mother worried about things like this because she was the owner of the motel. Nathan was her side kick, her right-hand man. As a mother-son team, they did a decent job of receiving guests and keeping most of their eleven available rooms occupied at all times. Empty rooms means empty stomachs, Nathan’s mother always said. Together, they lived in the twelfth room because it was more efficient and convenient for them to live where they worked. Their beloved motel was their home.

Originally, it wasn't his mother’s choice to be the owner of a motel, but his father’s decision. He used the combined total of their savings to buy the place so they could run it together. That plan seemed to go well until his father left ten years ago, when Nathan was seven years old. His father may have left because of debt, an affair, or disappointed expectations that running a motel would be more lucrative than it actually was. Nathan never found out the real reason and he wasn’t sure if his mother knew it either. It didn’t really matter. What mattered to Nathan was that he had a father, and then he didn’t. Because his father didn’t choose to stay.

Tonight, Nathan sat at the reception desk, answering calls about room reservations and checking inventory on the computer. His mother knew that Nathan was now capable enough to address guest concerns so she relied on him to handle matters when she was busy. He was about to put in an order for more linen, when a man entered the lobby.

The man had an effortless style and a charming smile, Nathan noticed immediately. The way he wore his bright blue button down made it look like he was on vacation, which maybe he was. The first few buttons were undone and the sleeves were rolled up above his forearm. His tanned skin was a striking contrast against the shirt, untucked over a pair of light tan cargo shorts. A thin, gold chain gleamed across his collarbone. His swept-back hair had all the shades of the sand on a beach. Regardless of his sturdy build, his steps towards the desk were nimble. Nathan suddenly didn’t feel like a boy, much less a man, in front of this man who—in Nathan’s opinion—exuded the ideal image of masculinity.

“Hey, kid. Do you work here?” asked the man.

“Yes, sir.”

“I checked out of Room Ten at seven o’clock this morning and I think I forgot my ring in there. You wouldn’t have it, by chance?”

“I see. I can check for your lost item after I confirm some information first. What’s your name? And can I see some form of identification?”

“Wow, you’re thorough. It’s Howard Donley. D-O-N-L-E-Y,” the man spelled and pulled out his driver’s license.

After cross-checking the information that he was provided with the guest invoice on record without any problems, Nathan retrieved the plastic bag containing the ring he had just found and leaned over the counter to hand it over. As he did so, Nathan entered a cloud of the most refreshing scent that he had ever smelled. It was almost like toothpaste, but more soothing. Mint and...something else. He realized that he recognized it as a smell that was in Room Ten earlier. It smelled like summer.

“Here’s your ring, Mr. Donley.” Nathan met the man’s eyes, full of gratitude. His face was clean-shaven and looked incredibly smooth. 

“Whew! My wife would’ve killed me if I lost this. I like this place, it’s cheap and clearly trustworthy,” he winked, “Call me Howard. You’ll be seeing me often.”

Nathan did see him often that summer. Howard came to stay at the hotel sporadically, sometimes once a week, sometimes four times a week. Every time, he came with a woman, always a different one from the last. Nathan wondered which one was his wife, if any of them were. He never saw Howard wearing the wedding ring he retrieved. 

After switching lobby shifts with his mother for the night, Nathan caught a familiar scent while passing by Howard’s door. By stopping, he unintentionally overheard the noises that came from within the room. It sounded like moaning. As he recalled something from health class and snippets of the whispered conversations his male classmates had (that he never joined) about girls, Nathan’s face grew more and more red. Oh, he thought, so the motel is not just for sleeping. He hurried away from the door feeling guilty and wishing that he could have remained ignorant. The smell of mint-and-something-else lingered in his nose.

Despite his infidelity, Howard was a nice person. When he was alone—because sometimes the women decided not to stay the night—he gave Nathan company. Howard was always curious, excitable, and had nothing important to do. They must have been at least ten years apart but Nathan didn’t feel the age gap next to Howard’s untroubled exuberance. While Nathan worked, Howard would hang out nearby and they would talk about everything. Once, Howard tried to tease Nathan about girls but Nathan had very little to say other than he hadn’t “thought about it much”. He tried to help Nathan with his tasks but Nathan insisted on doing all of the work himself because he felt responsible. If they had time afterward, they would get food and go to the pool to eat and swim. Howard seemed like the kind of person that needed to be near people at all times, but Nathan was happy to just be with Howard. 

One evening, Howard invited Nathan to a movie night in his room. He must have been unusually unsuccessful at inviting a female guest that day. Howard ordered food and they finished watching one movie when Nathan needed to borrow Howard’s bathroom.

When he was washing his hands, Nathan saw a square glass bottle on the counter. The contents were a spearmint-colored liquid. Curiously, he picked it up, removed the cap, and smelled it. It smelled like Howard. Nathan memorized the label—Proraso. The words were in Italian but he remembered enough from his Spanish classes to read at the bottom of the label, ‘with eucalyptus oil and menthol’. Eucalyptus. It was mint, and eucalyptus.

Nathan was distracted during the second movie. He was thinking about all the women Howard had brought to the motel, possibly to the same room that they sat in at that very moment. Nathan admitted to himself that he saw Howard as a father figure, but also in a different way—a way more similar to how those women saw him. Since he met Howard, there was a feeling that had taken root in his chest that he finally knew the name of. Maybe, Howard invited him because...But Nathan was a child, and definitely not a woman. What was he hoping for? 

He didn’t understand why he was crying, but he suddenly was.

After glancing at a crying Nathan uncertainly a couple times, Howard turned the TV off and moved closer. He sat stiffly next to him, rubbed his back with one hand, and mumbled something about choosing the wrong kind of movie for a kid. This made Nathan feel desperate.

With little hesitation, Nathan leaned into him. His face pressed up against his chest, the gold chain was cold on his lips, and his nose almost touched Howard’s chin. His usual scent was extremely potent and sharp. It was either giving Nathan perfect clarity or had wiped his mind clear of all sensible thought, because before he realized what he was doing, he had lifted his head, chilled lips seeking... 

Howard noticed instinctively. He grabbed Nathan’s shoulders and pushed him away. His expression looked like someone who just realized that the cute dog they were petting took a dump in their lap.

“Nathan, are you—”

Was he...What was he trying to do? Nathan gaped at the air for an excuse but no words came. Howard removed his hands and stood, facing away. After half a minute of heavy silence, he spoke again in a cool tone.

“Uh...look, it’s gotten late. I’d appreciate having the room to myself to sleep.” 

He was telling Nathan to leave.

Nathan just gulped and nodded, avoiding Howard’s gaze, which was easy because Howard refused to look at him. Nathan left and headed back to the room that he shared with his mother, the scent of eucalyptus and mint trailing faintly behind him.

Howard Donley checked out of his room the next morning at seven o'clock, the same as he always did. But Nathan never saw him stay at the motel again.

______________________

When Nathan came out of the bathroom, a familiar person sauntered up to him from the kitchenette space. On the only table in the room, there were two warm plates of eggs and toast.

“Goood morning, Nathaniel! Mmm you smell fresh. How did you sleep?” They asked as they put their arms around the back of Nathan’s neck in a casual embrace.

Gripping their waist, Nathan said seriously, “Well last night, I lied down and closed my eyes.” 

In response to Nathan’s answer, they made an exaggerated show of looking impressed but the truth was, they asked the same question every morning and Nathan always gave the same answer.

Nathan laughed, “Also, only my mom calls me ‘Nathaniel’.”

“I know, but your mom and I vibe so well, we’re basically the same person. Except she gave birth to you and I’m going to marry you.”

“Gross,” said Nathan, but he was relieved that his two favorite people liked each other.

Nathan met his fiancé through mutual friends in college. While he was just starting his bachelor’s program in hospitality and hotel management, Denys was finishing his program in interior design. Nathan had worked for years to earn enough money to attend, so by the time he met Denys, they were the same age. It’s now been over three years since they started dating and two years since he started living with Nathan at the motel. Together, they worked on repainting, redecorating, and reinvigorating the place. While Nathan loved his mother, he never liked her stylistic tastes. Now that she moved to a new place, that wasn’t the old motel, and he was the new owner, it was time for some changes.

Denys continued comparing himself to Nathan’s mother, “We’re both great cooks and love all the same shows. To me, this is the last place on Earth where cable TV still exists. You may have been running this place with her since you could walk, but I’m your mom’s new favorite.” 

“Everything has improved a lot since you came here.”

“Yeah honestly, I’m here to be with the motel and your mom, not you,” Denys said and pulled back one arm to poke Nathan’s chest.

“I knew it!” Nathan threw up his hands sarcastically.

“I’m like a step-dad and the motel is like my step-child. All I want to do is spoil it.”

“Where do I fit in this picture?” asked Nathan.

Denys ignored him but that was because he remembered that he had made coffee. So he went to pour them each a cup according to their preferences, creamer in his and milk for Nathan, while Nathan got dressed for one of the few last class sessions he needed to attend before graduation.

When his coffee was brought to him, Nathan accepted it but insisted, “You don’t need to bring it all the way over here, just leave it on the table.”

“Hey, it’s a romantic gesture.”

“I thought you were only here for the motel and my mom,” Nathan said over the rim of his coffee and took a sip.

“Well, I have to convince you to let me stay, right?” 

“All I want is for you to stay.”

“Then maybe I will,” Denys decided and also tried his coffee. “Okay, oat milk might be the new hot thing but this creamer sucks. I already put some in twice but it still needs more.”

“Third time’s the charm,” said Nathan, although he wasn’t really referring to the coffee.