Ruth swallowed hard, feeling helpless. She didn’t know what to do or say. They couldn’t call anyone for help. Samuel could shoot both her and Patton at any moment. The best thing to do was go along with Samuel’s crazy notion until they could somehow find some way to escape. “Of course, Samuel,” she said. “What can I do for you to make you more comfortable during your stay?”
“I’ll be taking up residence here,” Samuel said, looking around at the hotel lobby with something like love in his eyes. “Since it’s nearing ten, I’d love some breakfast. First thing you can do to earn your keep. Don’t skimp now. I refuse to eat cereal or muffins. Make me something delicious. Homemade. That’s what this hotel is all about. Homemade and down to earth.”
Ruth shuffled back, still keeping her body between Patton and the gun. “Of course,” she said.
“Then we’ll take another look at those windows,” Samuel said, looking over at them and shaking his head as if she and Patton had done a terrible thing. “Good thing I’m here. You did a crap job of boarding them up. Too bad someone had to take them out in the first place.” He winked at Patton, and Ruth felt another wave of rage flow through her. She wanted to scream at Samuel, demand he admit he broke the windows.
She turned on her heel, forcing Patton in front of her. Samuel made a tutting sound, and his lumbering steps followed her as they went into the kitchen. Patton remained unusually quiet. Ruth heard the shotgun tap against the walls and knew Samuel had it trained on her most of the time. In the kitchen, Samuel plopped down at the counter with a contented sigh. He rested the shotgun across his knee, letting it wave back and forth. Ruth was still mainly in its line of sight.
“Can I get you a coffee?” Ruth asked, and then, remembering the smell on him, “Perhaps you take yours as an Irish coffee?”
“It’s mid-morning,” Samuel drawled. “The time for coffee has passed. Just bring me the bottle.”
Ruth felt like a robot as she walked to the storage room and pulled out the nice bourbon bottle from their stores along with a small snifter. She walked slowly back to Samuel and he widened his eyes in anticipation, as if expecting her to wait on him. With shaking hands, she poured two fingers worth into the glass. Samuel tipped the glass back, swallowing the alcohol in one go. He dropped the glass again and she made a move to fill it once more.
“I’m hungry,” he said, waving her off with a snarl. He grabbed the bottle from her and poured a much more generous helping into the glass. The smell made Ruth desperate for a breath of fresh air. She felt as if she were drowning. Samuel’s body odor filled the air alongside the sharp tang of bourbon, and in her own fear, everything felt heightened.
“Is there something in particular you want?” Ruth asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Patton sat across the counter from Samuel, his arms crossed protectively against his chest. He studied Samuel, and Ruth hoped he wouldn’t say or do anything to enrage Samuel further. “Why don’t you go upstairs, Patton?” she suggested, hoping he could get out and maybe run into town for help.
“The boy stays.” Samuel bounced the shotgun against his leg as if in warning. Ruth’s mouth went dry. “I’m sure he’d enjoy a hotel feast, don’t you think? I want the works. Eggs, bacon, whatever you got, fry it up.”
Ruth nodded, her mind going blank as if she’d never made breakfast before in her life. As if on autopilot, she pulled out the rest of the eggs from the van and the smoked meat.
“Don’t you have anything else?” Samuel asked. “You can’t serve hotel guests scraps.”
Ruth knew that nothing would please Samuel. “We haven’t gotten our usual shipment in yet,” she said.
Samuel scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. You probably wasted all that food you took from the van, didn’t you? This is why you shouldn’t be in charge of the hotel. You’re too lazy.”
Ruth didn’t respond, but she pulled out what remained of the bacon and some extra sausage patties. She cooked everything available that would keep Samuel in a good mood. Her hands trembled and briefly, she wondered if she might be going into shock. As she heated up the pan and dropped butter in the middle, she couldn’t think of a single thing to do to escape him or to keep Patton safe. All she could do was appease him and hope he kept the shotgun aimed at her and that it never wavered towards her grandson.
Once the food was ready, she pulled out the nice china that was one of Kathleen’s heirlooms. Internally, she felt a hysterical laugh build up as she put the meat and eggs onto the plate and served her new…boss.
“I want to eat in the dining room,” Samuel said with a pout that looked strange on his face. He motioned Patton to come closer to him. The bourbon smell around Samuel was nearly overwhelming. Patton stared at Samuel, and Ruth knew that he was about to refuse. She couldn’t let him pick a fight with Samuel.
“Patton, take these plates with you,” Ruth said suddenly, cutting into Patton’s line of sight and sliding the two plates into his arms. Quickly, she plated a third, and then standing between him and Samuel, she said, “Lead the way.”
Samuel gave her an appraising look. “That’s more like it,” he said and tucked the bottle under one arm. They walked out of the kitchen into the dining area.
It was small for intimate dining, outfitted with only a few bistro tables and one larger table for bigger parties. Unpacked boxes were still in the corners. Ruth slid the plates onto the big table, making sure Patton sat on her side away from Samuel. Samuel took his seat at the head
