Rosie's Roadhouse

Prompt - The Suitcase (500 words): You are staying overnight in a motel room. The previous guest has left a suitcase in the closet. It is slightly open and you can see a bundle of hundred dollar bills and the handle of a revolver inside. What else is in the suitcase, and who owns it? What happens when the owner comes back for it and knows you’ve seen the contents? Write a story describing the scene that unfolds.

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   Rosie entered the room, pulling the cart behind her, breathing heavily, her heart pounding.  She wished she could take time off - chemo had really done a number on her - but these rooms wouldn’t clean themselves.  She flipped the security latch so the door wouldn’t lock and let it drift closed behind her.

    Rosie grabbed the scrubbing bubbles and a washcloth from the cart and went into the bathroom, noting her newly-thin body in the big mirror. “Only good part about about the Big C is I finally lost the weight.”  She didn’t like her skin, though. Under her clothing, stretch marks covered her breasts, belly, hips, and thighs. “Nobody ever sees those, so what do I care?”

    Rosie kicked the damp towels toward the cart and went to work wiping down the bathroom, ignoring the painful pins and needles in her hands.   When she finished, she remade the bed, tidied up, and gathered up the dirty laundry, depositing them in the cart.  Finally, she did a once-over.  

    “Bed’s done. Bathroom’s done… water glasses not used … Gideon’s in the bedside … hangers. gotta check those.” 

    Rosie went to the closet and pulled it open.  “Huh. A suitcase. Wonder what they left me?”  

    She grabbed the handle and tried to lift it, but it was heavy. Fortunately, it was one of those new-fangled kinds, and it glided easily on wheels. She dragged it across the room and, with a big heave, got it onto the bed, wrinkling the bedspread in the process. She unzipped it, and hauled it open.

    Loose diapers and a pacifier sat on top but didn’t hide the green stacks of bills nearly filling both sides.  And tucked down next to the money was a stubby-barreled revolver. “Ruger Alaskan,” she said, recognizing the model.

    Rosie’s heart started to pound. And it wasn’t the chemo this time.  She looked around. “Door’s not locked.”  She ran across the room, but just as she reached the door, someone pushed it open.

    Rosie didn’t know who was more surprised, her or the woman standing there.  They stood frozen, staring at each other.  The woman was tall and young and wearing a T-shirt and sweats. No makeup. The sweats sagged low on her skinny hips, revealing her own stretch marks.

    “I guess we’ve both lost a lot of weight,” Rosie mumbled, then wanted to kick herself.  

    The woman just looked at her. “I left my suitcase…” she said, her eyes drifting past Rosie.  She strode to the bed and paused for a moment - Rosie sure hoped she wasn’t grabbing the gun - then closed and dragged the suitcase to the floor.  She smoothed the wrinkles out of the spread, then came to the door, pulling the case behind her.  “Here,” she said, thrusting a brick of bills into Rosie’s hand. “You never saw me.”  

    Rosie nodded, watching her leave. There was a Baby on Board sign in the back window of the woman’s car.   

    Rosie smiled ruefully. “I guess I’ll be able to pay the docs, after all.”

--April 12, 2020