Queenie's Cafe (7 page)

L
uke dropped Laura off at the store in Vero Beach so she could get her car and arranged to meet her at the motel later that afternoon. He wasn’t sure he’d be interested in getting involved with the motel, but he’d checked the property records after his visit to the café and discovered both businesses were on the same piece of property. If he decided to go into business with Laura, it was all or none.

He drove to Kingston and turned off the highway at Queenie’s Café. Every time he came here, he was struck by the pathetic condition of the café and the King of the Road Motel. The patched roofs, faded paint, and weeds growing through the asphalt gave it the look of poverty. Why had Laura’s parents let it get so rundown? Didn’t they know their business would be better if they maintained the place? Nobody in their right mind would pay money to stay here when there were decent motels a few miles away.

Laura met him at the motel office. “Pretty grim, isn’t it?”

That was a good word for it.
Grim.
“Is anyone staying here now?”

“Just the regulars. Their rooms are in the back.”

“How many?”

“With Florence gone, there’s just three. Cindy is a working girl, if you know what I mean, and the other two can’t afford to live anywhere else. Rusty used to wash dishes for my mother in the café. He’s staying with his family in Orlando for a few days. As soon as I can afford it, I’ll put him back to work. Morris used to help my father with the motel, sweeping up and washing windows, and he helps with the landscaping, what there is of it. He likes flowers. I wish I could afford to put flowers around the café, but that’s way down on my list.”

It wasn’t the first time Luke wondered why she was bothering to open the café. A young, attractive woman like Laura Whitfield who didn’t have anyone to support but herself would be better off in Jacksonville or Melbourne or West Palm Beach, where she could work in a decent job, find a boyfriend, and live well without working herself to death in this dump. Or maybe she already had a boyfriend in Kingston. There had to be something keeping her in this place. Something besides these businesses.

She grabbed a handful of keys. “We have thirty rooms, plus my apartment.”

Luke inspected several rooms. The bathrooms were stained with mold, the carpets, bedspreads and drapes looked as though they hadn’t been replaced in years, and the furniture looked beat to death. The air-conditioners were so old he wasn’t sure they worked at all, and the walls needed a coat of paint. There was no way she’d turn a profit without some major work and expense.

He hated to tell her, but she already knew. Anyone with eyes could see it wasn’t worth much as a motel. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to plow too much money into this, Laura. There are dozens of motels in this general area, and you’d never be able to compete. You could tear it down and start over, but it would cost you more than you could bring in.”

“I know. I don’t know how Dad kept it open so long.”

He cocked his head and looked at Laura, wondering what she’d think of a drastic change. “What would you think about turning it into apartments? You’d have fewer vacancies, a steady income, and you wouldn’t have to hire someone to clean.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “
Hire
someone to clean?”

So she’d done it herself, probably for nothing. Why didn’t that surprise him?

She waved her hand at the room they stood in. “What would you do to make this an apartment?”

“Combine two rooms. Add a big closet and fix up the bathroom on the bedroom side. On the other side, replace the bathroom with a little kitchen. The plumbing is already there, so it shouldn’t take much. Without the beds, there’s room for a sitting area and eating area. The apartments should be big enough for a single person or a couple.” It couldn’t be any worse than some of the dumps he and his mother had lived in when he was a kid, and it would be better than some of the low income housing available now.

She chewed on her bottom lip as her brows knit in concentration. “What would that cost?”

“I’ll have to send a contractor by to give us an estimate. We need to know what we can do, what our options are, if any, and then we’ll see how much it’ll cost.”

“Are you still interested in helping me with financing?”

“For a percentage of the business. We’ll need an appraisal and an estimate of the remodel costs before I can tell you how big a percentage.”

“What if I don’t agree?”

He opened his hands. “Then we won’t do it.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. That sounds fair. While you have your contractor here, you might as well get an estimate on a new roof for the café. I can’t believe those patches will last much longer.”

Luke gazed at Laura and wondered what he was really doing here. This old motel wasn’t the kind of thing he’d normally invest in, yet here he was, discussing the possibilities. The café had potential, but he didn’t know much about motels and apartments. What if he was wrong? What if she agreed to let him turn the motel into apartments and it didn’t work? But why wouldn’t it work? There weren’t many apartments in Kingston, just a couple of duplexes and some rusty old trailers people rented out to the snowbirds every winter. It was an excellent location, easy commuting distance to both Melbourne and Vero Beach. Even if the apartments weren’t all rented year-round, they’d have to bring in more money than the motel.

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The next day, Greg Totino, King County Health Department Inspector, paid another visit to the café. He checked off everything on his list. “Miss Whitfield, you passed with flying colors. I can’t believe you got that stove clean. I was sure you’d have to replace it.”

He signed the form and gave her a copy. “You can open again as soon as you get the license in your own name.”

Laura sighed with relief. Another major obstacle out of the way. She still had a few to overcome. The biggest, of course, was the lack of money.

As soon as the man left, she went out and applied for the license. That took most of her money, but she couldn’t run a business without a license. She stopped at the hardware store on her way home to buy paint for the dining area. For the walls, she chose a shade of mauve so pale the color barely showed at all. She’d seen it at a friend’s house years ago and loved the way it seemed to change color with the light. It would give the room a slight glow when the sun hit it just right, and it would look nice with the new carpet and window shades she’d picked out.

She was struggling with the ladder, dragging it from the motel storeroom to the café, when a kid wearing baggy clothes wandered into the parking lot. Runaway? “Hi. Something I can do for you?”

“I’m lookin’ for a job,” said the girl.

Laura laughed. “Have you ever come to the wrong place. I can’t even afford to pay myself.”

“You own this place?”

“Yeah.” The girl, somewhere between the ages of twelve and sixteen, looked tired and hungry. Laura didn’t have much, but she couldn’t send this kid on her way without something to eat. “Are you hungry?”

The kid smiled. “Yeah, starving, but I don’t have any money.”

Laura hadn’t been grocery shopping in over two weeks. She’d filled her gas tank instead of buying food. There should be soup and crackers in the pantry. It wasn’t much, but they wouldn’t starve.

“I’m Laura. What’s your name?”

“Ivy.”

“Oh, that’s pretty.”

She shrugged. “I guess. My brother calls me Poison Ivy.”

Laura lugged the ladder to the door of the café and Ivy held the door open for her. “Where you from, Ivy?”

“Up north.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Laura dragged the ladder into the dining area. “If I’m going to feed you, the least you can do is tell me the truth.”

“Sixteen. I’m sixteen. My folks threw me out because I’m pregnant.”

That explained the baggy clothes. Poor kid. “Do you have anyplace to go, relatives you can stay with?”

“No.” Ivy’s answer came out in a whisper.

Laura tried not to stare as she opened the ladder in the corner of the dining area. “How long ago did you leave home?”

“Last week. My dad told me I couldn’t ever come back, and my mother doesn’t want her friends to know. She told everyone I went away to school.”

Laura didn’t know whether to believe her or not. The kid looked younger than sixteen. Still, she couldn’t let the girl starve. “Where you headed?”

“Anywhere. Nowhere.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll help me paint I’ll give you a room to sleep in tonight. I can’t pay you anything. I can’t even open this place until I get a loan.”

Ivy’s face lit up. “If you’ll let me stay, you don’t have to pay me.”

“There’s just one condition. You have to call home. You don’t have to tell them where you are, just let them know you’re all right and have a safe place to stay for a day or two.”

“Okay.”

Laura took Ivy to the motel office, found a couple of her father’s old shirts to wear while they painted, and handed Ivy a key. “Room five, right in front. I can’t afford to hire anyone to clean, so that’s up to you. The laundry is in the breezeway behind the office. Cleaning supplies in the storeroom by the laundry.”

The tired, heavy look in Ivy’s eyes was gone. “Thanks.”

“Get settled and come back here.” Taking in a strange kid could bring trouble, but Laura couldn’t turn her away when she had all those empty rooms. How could parents throw a kid out when she needed them the most?

There wasn’t much food left, but Laura found a can of soup, a box of crackers, and some cheese for lunch.

Before they got the tables and chairs moved out of the way to start painting, Luke walked in. He looked at the can of paint and screwed up his face. “Pink suede? You’re painting this place pink?”

Laura’s hands flew to her hips. “If you don’t like it, tough. It’s my café, not yours.”

Ignoring her remark, he grabbed a can of white ceiling paint. “We’ll start with this.”

They worked together the rest of the afternoon. Ivy got down on the floor and painted the lower wall and baseboards, while Laura painted around the windows and the upper walls, as high as she could reach. Luke worked on the ceiling and the upper walls.

The ceiling looked like it hadn’t been painted since the building was new. Laura had cleaned it the best she could the day Florence brought all those people to help, but cleaning wasn’t enough. She could scrub for a month, but the ceiling wouldn’t be white again without paint.

“I wish we had some music,” said Ivy. “A radio or CD player or something.”

“A CD player wouldn’t do any good without CD’s,” said Laura.

“I had an old boom box with a cassette player at home, but it was too heavy to carry.”

Luke said, “I have one of those at home somewhere. I’ll bring it tomorrow. Do you have any cassettes, Laura?”

“I found an old Elvis tape in Queenie’s room the other day, but that’s it.”

Ivy looked up. “If she had a tape, she must have had something to play it on.”

“Nope. I looked.”

“They why did she keep the tape?” asked Luke.

“I have no idea.” But Laura was beginning to wonder if that really was an Elvis tape she found. That tape had been hidden, taped to the back of a drawer. Why would Queenie hide an Elvis tape?

They were nearly finished with the first coat of paint when they ran out. Laura groaned. “I was so sure I had enough.” She’d bought two gallons of wall paint, but these old plaster walls soaked it up.

The paint had dried on the far wall, but she could still see the scuff marks and ketchup stains. It needed another coat, but she didn’t have enough money to buy more paint and groceries, too. “Maybe the bank will come through with a loan.”

“I’ll buy you another gallon of paint,” said Luke.

“You mean
loan
me enough to buy more paint?”

“Okay, I’ll loan you the money. I’m hungry. How about a pizza? My treat.”

Ivy’s eyes lit up. “Mmm, that sounds good.”