“They’ll be here soon. We don’t have much time to prepare,” Pete said. “Why are you standing there looking like the dog just licked your pot roast?”
“Do they have to bring their children?” Angela asked peevishly.
“You know that they’re traveling with their kids,” Pete responded, his eyes narrowing. “We’ve been through this. It’s our job to make them feel welcome and provide respite from their travels. Can you imagine making that long journey with your children in tow? And just think how the kids are going to feel, having to deal with a strange environment and wrenched away from their wi-fi. You know we don’t get any kind of reception here. Kids are sensitive. You know you can’t make them feel like they’re not wanted. They’ll pick up on that.”
“It’s not that I don’t like children,” Angela sighed, “it’s just that I don’t like them coming here.”
“This is where their family is. Where would you have them go?” Angela ignored him.
“How are they arriving?” she asked.
“By car. Better than by plane or train. What would it be like having to take care of so many guests at once?”
“And probably more kids,” Angela conceded. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You know I am,” Pete responded. “Look sharp. I think they’ve arrived.”
A shaft of light filled the room as four figures came in through the doorway, looking around in befuddlement. A dazed-looking man with bags under his eyes, a harried woman with eyebrows cocked in an attitude of unmistakable anger, an eight-year-old girl looking disappointedly at her cell phone and a six-year-old boy sucking on his thumb and regarding his surroundings with abject horror.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” the woman asked the man. “I told you we should have stopped at a motel back in Vacaville, but oh no, you had to push on through. Said we couldn’t afford it and look where we ended up. This sucks.”
“Where are we, mommy?” the little boy asked. “Is this Fresno?”
“My cell phone’s not working,” the little girl whined. “Can I borrow yours, mommy?”
The woman reached into her back pocket and extracted her iPhone. No bars for cellular service and no available wi-fi networks. She frowned and went to put it back in her pocket when she was surprised to see an incoming Facetime call. Her jaw fell open when she saw the number and caller ID. She hadn’t received a call from that number for almost eight years. She swiped to answer and her mother’s face appeared on the screen, beaming.
“Mom? I don’t understand. You died when Madison was just a baby…”
“And you died tonight, my dear. Your husband fell asleep at the wheel because he was too cheap to plonk down the cash for a motel room or even a decent cup of coffee. The good news is that I finally get to see my grandbabies.”
Saint Peter and the angel set about getting ready for their next set of guests.
Literature in Small Doses 