Page 71 of The Happy Month
“No,” I said, even before Ronnie could ask. He liked buying things at a discount and we did have an entire new co-op to fill.
“Maybe on the way back. If it’s under a hundred,” he said, agreeing with me.
Hotel El Caliente was located off Palm Canyon on a side street with a dead end. It didn’t look like much from the front. There was a strip of parking lot in front that held about ten cars. Through a bougainvillea-covered entrance you went into the courtyard hotel.
We grabbed our bags from the backseat, nearly burning our hands on the door handle. Going through the entrance, we found the registration desk, or rather room, to the left. It was open. There were a couple of chairs and an empty desk. Ronnie rang the bell.
An older man of about sixty came out wearing a pair of too-tight pink shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He could have been at the commitment ceremony we’d just attended.
Ronnie explained that we had a reservation, and the man said, “Yes, of course. I’m Bart. You are an adorable couple.”
“Thank you,” Ronnie said, seeming quite pleased. “We think so.”
Did we think so? Mostly I felt incredibly lucky, which was not the same as adorable.
“It’s fairly quiet right now,” Bart said. “You’ll want to be on the first floor.”
“We do?” I asked.
“Absolutely. There’s a mister that makes it possible to sit outside the room. I’m putting you in room five.”
I glanced into the courtyard, which was almost entirelypool. The building was two floors, roughly Spanish style—though not as interesting as our co-op. You could reach the second floor via a stairway roughly in the middle. He was right, that floor felt much more exposed to the sun. Room 5 was under the walkway for the second floor and just after the stairs.
“Sounds perfect,” Ronnie said. He held out a credit card, Bart poked a few buttons on his computer, and a receipt popped out a printer.
As he stapled a copy of the charge to the receipt, Bart said, “Breakfast is between eight and ten. There will be coffee and Pop Tarts if you’re an early riser. Do save some room though, tomorrow I’m doing a chilaquiles casserole. You’ll want to try that.”
“Thank you,” Ronnie said.
“If you want anything just ring the bell. I have a little apartment in the back.”
We picked up our bags and walked across the sizzling courtyard to room 5. The mister was going full steam, and we got under the overhang as soon as we could. The water from the mister evaporated so quickly you never felt wet.
I hadn’t noticed before, but there was an overweight man sitting outside room 6. When we got close he said, “Hello neighbors.” He was completely naked. His legs were crossed, and his belly covered the family jewels. He’d had a couple of abdominal surgeries, which made it look like his belly was winking. Or maybe it was just his attitude.
“Hi,” Ronnie said, pushing open the door.
“I hope I’ll see more of you later,” he said, his eyes glued to Ronnie.
Inside the room, it was neat: the bed queen-sized and well-made, the artwork stereotypically Southwestern. There was a small table and two chairs, nightstands and adresser. In the back was a decent bathroom. The air-conditioning was on full blast, and I’d guess it was in the mid-seventies.
“This is a clothing optional place, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Ronnie said. “Isn’t that more fun?”
He opened his suitcase and began putting things into the dresser.
“So, we’re going to run around naked?”
“Maybe later. You’re not a prude, are you?”
“I’m not sure I like the audience. The way that guy looked at you was first-degree sexual assault.”
“Oh, he’s harmless. There’s not much point going in the pool until it cools down tonight. What do you want to do until dinner?”
It was around four. We didn’t really need to eat until sixish. I was still full of leftover pizza and some cookies Ronnie had bought for the ride over. Before I could answer the question, he said, “I think we should go find this Wallace Philburn person and then have dinner after.”
“Or…” I said. I’d noticed the bowl of condoms and tiny packets of lube sitting on top of the dresser. We didn’t use condoms; we trusted each other enough not to. I suppose that was foolish on Ronnie’s part given all the things he didn’t know about me—but I knew I’d never hurt him, so I let him be foolish.
