DS fanfic chapter 2: At The Inn
Sep. 18th, 2009 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
river_kateChapter Two: At the Inn
August 22, 1967
My small suite of rooms will be adequate for me here and I’ve made myself familiar with the restaurant menu. There was a mix-up with my reservations. Apparently the penthouse suite has been occupied for some time by a business tycoon who has roots in Collinsport. A clerk substituting for a Mr. Wells, the man I had originally spoken with, thought that the penthouse would be available at the time I made my reservation. It is straightened out; I am comfortable with another small suite; I can see my van in the parking lot from my window, I don’t need a large sitting room and the small kitchen will work for a week or so.
Unpacking just a few things, I’ve been looking at a newspaper, going for walks along the waterfront and resting after the drive from Boston. There are some treacherous roads in this area, a bit different from the roads in Colorado. People have looked at me as though I’m oddly dressed and not a typical tourist, but they’ve been friendly. One of the first things I did was put up the wreath that grandmother sent. It was fixed to the inside of my hotel door and then this afternoon Mr. Wells kindly informed me that it had frightened the maid, so I put it back in the van. Father told me that some people still tended towards superstition in this part of the world.
Usually I am rather reserved around new people but I sensed that the coffee shop waitress was feeling down so I drew her out a little after the lunch crowd had left today. Her name is Janine and she’s lived here all her life. She’s very shy and is an aspiring jewelry maker and there’s no living to be made in that according to her, so she must work at a job she dislikes for the time being.
She seemed quite taken by the old Victorian necklace I was wearing. I told her that beaded jewelry sold better in other parts of the country and that in time it might sell better here. We talked about the artist’s cooperative that was hopefully going to become a success here and I offered to look at the pieces she’s made at her convenience. She brightened up a bit when I suggested she might think about building up her inventory over the winter.
It seems that part of the challenge with her job is that she’s an introvert and has replaced a popular young woman in the small restaurant. The woman had gone missing, was declared dead and suddenly returned a few days ago with no memory of where she’d been. Janine said she was doing her best but it was discouraging when tourists who’d been there seasonally in years past kept asking where the woman was. She had felt the need to tiptoe around the facts and it just wasn’t her personality to be dynamic like the outgoing Maggie. We talked a bit more about the importance of being oneself in a world that seems to want everyone to conform and she looked prettier and seemed more cheerful by the time I left.
Both she and Mr. Wells have cautioned me about staying outdoors after dark. Apparently there have been attacks on animals and women in the area recently and the authorities had been unable to stop them so far. Collinsport doesn’t seem to be the type of place for crime and violence but I’m keeping in mind the cautions from my parents and grandmother about this area.
August 22, 1967
My small suite of rooms will be adequate for me here and I’ve made myself familiar with the restaurant menu. There was a mix-up with my reservations. Apparently the penthouse suite has been occupied for some time by a business tycoon who has roots in Collinsport. A clerk substituting for a Mr. Wells, the man I had originally spoken with, thought that the penthouse would be available at the time I made my reservation. It is straightened out; I am comfortable with another small suite; I can see my van in the parking lot from my window, I don’t need a large sitting room and the small kitchen will work for a week or so.
Unpacking just a few things, I’ve been looking at a newspaper, going for walks along the waterfront and resting after the drive from Boston. There are some treacherous roads in this area, a bit different from the roads in Colorado. People have looked at me as though I’m oddly dressed and not a typical tourist, but they’ve been friendly. One of the first things I did was put up the wreath that grandmother sent. It was fixed to the inside of my hotel door and then this afternoon Mr. Wells kindly informed me that it had frightened the maid, so I put it back in the van. Father told me that some people still tended towards superstition in this part of the world.
Usually I am rather reserved around new people but I sensed that the coffee shop waitress was feeling down so I drew her out a little after the lunch crowd had left today. Her name is Janine and she’s lived here all her life. She’s very shy and is an aspiring jewelry maker and there’s no living to be made in that according to her, so she must work at a job she dislikes for the time being.
She seemed quite taken by the old Victorian necklace I was wearing. I told her that beaded jewelry sold better in other parts of the country and that in time it might sell better here. We talked about the artist’s cooperative that was hopefully going to become a success here and I offered to look at the pieces she’s made at her convenience. She brightened up a bit when I suggested she might think about building up her inventory over the winter.
It seems that part of the challenge with her job is that she’s an introvert and has replaced a popular young woman in the small restaurant. The woman had gone missing, was declared dead and suddenly returned a few days ago with no memory of where she’d been. Janine said she was doing her best but it was discouraging when tourists who’d been there seasonally in years past kept asking where the woman was. She had felt the need to tiptoe around the facts and it just wasn’t her personality to be dynamic like the outgoing Maggie. We talked a bit more about the importance of being oneself in a world that seems to want everyone to conform and she looked prettier and seemed more cheerful by the time I left.
Both she and Mr. Wells have cautioned me about staying outdoors after dark. Apparently there have been attacks on animals and women in the area recently and the authorities had been unable to stop them so far. Collinsport doesn’t seem to be the type of place for crime and violence but I’m keeping in mind the cautions from my parents and grandmother about this area.
