As their relationship had grown more and more distant, Carla had tried to convince herself that it was normal. This was the way all marriages ended up. You say your vows in the excitement of hormones and hope on your wedding day and then, by this time, you’re roommates. From what her friends said, it was a common situation.
But Carla wanted more than that. Much more. She wanted to reach over for Doug in the night whenever she felt like it. She wanted him to pull her arms tighter around him so that her breasts pressed into his back, and maybe roll over to kiss her in the darkness. She wanted him to reach out for her. It had been so long since he had. Come to think of it, had he ever woken her in the middle of the night to make love? Maybe I’ve been reading too many romance novels. Or thinking about the Farmers too much. I’ll bet he makes love to her any time he wants to. Any time she wants to!
Carla barely noticed the clusters of houses or businesses leading to the hotel in downtown Crosby. Population roughly 7500, Crosby was not exactly a bustling metropolis, but its proximity to larger cities had kept it alive. She liked to think that the hotel had helped. Crosby could definitely use an economic boost, she thought as she pulled into the parking lot behind the Royal Poinciana Hotel. For a moment she sat in the car looking up at the beautiful old building, pondering, as she often did, the many love stories it represented.
2
The Royal
The Royal Poinciana Hotel sits on Crosby’s Main Street in central Florida, the only gem of a once-hopeful but mostly under-developed historic downtown. A few other grand buildings from the same era, circa 1920, are now vacant shells. While they may boast colorful pasts, on this day in February, they have little future to look forward to, unless others embrace the same vision that the owners of the Royal have maintained.
The buildings on Main that still show promise include the home of the best hamburger in the world (if one believes the restaurant’s claim), a small town hall, a smaller corner convenience store, a more-or-less popular thrift shop, and a few offices. Up on the six-lane, there are the chain stores, the familiar signs, the money-makers that have put smaller shops out of business.
Main Street is split. A little park separates East Main and West Main, providing a home for decorations trotted out, plugged in, and erected during appropriate seasons. The gazebo needs repair, but the gentleman who usually takes care of such things for the city had gall bladder surgery last week and isn’t back to work. A long-forgotten civic group placed benches here and there during the last revitalization push, offering a comfortable spot for someone walking home from school to sit and rest for a few minutes, or where a couple might share a bench to discuss deep issues before they settle in for the night at the Royal.
Because it is February, Main Street is no longer ablaze with bright Christmas lights. The plastic Santas, candles, menorah, reindeer and the Holy Family, ensuring that no one forget the reasons for the season, have been stored away until next Thanksgiving, when they will be pulled out of storage again in the attic of city hall. A dedicated, forward-thinking group is hoping that next year, an appropriate symbol for Kwanzaa will be added, but no one is holding his or her breath. Time moves at a slower pace in Crosby, although there is a plan for the city to have a Cinco de Mayo parade, if funds become available.
Crosby makes a big deal of Christmas, though, with local veterans putting up a dozen Christmas trees for schoolchildren and women’s groups to decorate. Soon, Easter decorations will begin showing up in shop windows. But it is the Royal that acts as the decorating barometer for the rest of the town. When its bunnies and pastels make an appearance in a few more weeks, the season will have truly changed.
Not that decorating is what the Royal is best known for. Its historical value is paramount. If its elegance is a little frayed around the edges, this only adds to its charm and, to be perfectly honest, tends to keep the room rates very reasonable.
The staff is the Royal’s next greatest asset, serving its clientele with an air of gentility that few shinier, more modern hotels care to muster. At any hour of the day or night, someone is at the ready to meet a need or answer a question, and there are always questions. What used to be across the street? Has anyone ever died here? Are the big doors at the end of each hall really fireproof? Has anyone ever been stuck on the elevator? Is the Royal haunted? And these days: What’s that WIFI password again?
The Royal was built a century ago of tan brick with decorative additions and picturesque windows. Three stories tall, it features a balcony on the second floor with metal chairs and tables. One can imagine lavish parties on the terrace in the hotel’s heyday, surreptitious kisses behind enormous potted palms leading perhaps to shared accommodations for the night.
At one time, the champagne flowed as frequently as jazz filled the
