I’m driving back to the hotel just before noon when Robert texts. I shouldn’t, but I do hit ok in response.

Ten minutes later I pull into the hotel parking lot; stop at the front desk to see if they have FedEx pickup and get two envelopes for the boys tshirts.

I head up to the room, address and seal each envelope, and then drop them back at the front desk.

Now what to do until fourish? I wonder where Robert wants to eat. And why so early, but not enough to dwell on it.

Anyways, gym loving Robert came, showered, left to do something. I am finished with what work I needed to do, and am now hunting down breakfast.

Oddly, decided to go to campus, Robert left me the car, as I’ve never actually seen it, and will find their “Old Main” or whatever they call their student union and eat there. Most of them are like the food court at the mall; with one “real restaurant”.

I start with roaming the bookstore, and buy t-shirts for my two nephews. I also get a notebook to scribble in. Sad truth, I like paper and it had a cool cover. Have no actual use for it.

I head over to view my food options, and decide on spring rolls, egg fried rice, and some sort of tofu. Yes, that is technically lunch, but it’s eleven am now; somehow missed breakfast as usual.

Hotel room to myself. I wake up about 7:30 and can’t get back to sleep. I finally reach out and look at my phone. Apparently some people like gym’s.

I toss off the covers, and head into the kitchen. I put a mug of water in the microwave, head back into the bedroom, and put on jeans and a Boise State sweatshirt Robert picked up yesterday. The microwave beeps; so I go into the kitchen and open the door, grab my mug and put a teabag in it.

I look at my tablet, then my phone, and realize I need to get some work done. After twenty plus years; I can do it quickly. When I was younger; what takes me an hour now used to fill the entire workday.

“Honey, you trying to get us jumped tonight?” I tease as we pull into Jumpin’ Janet’s.

It’s actually like all the bars we go to; just trying to make conversation. It’s a bit more crowded than I would have expected on a Monday night.

We grab barstools, and order. I twirl around on my stool looking around,and people watching. Our drinks come, and we both pick them up and take a sip at the same time.

We rarely play pool or darts anymore; happy on our barstools. As the kitchen closes at ten; I’m excited as ashtrays are set about.

I immediately reach in my purse, and light a cigarette. Nice to actually enjoy a cigarette. Truth, Robert pays an extra three hundred dollar bill; if they can prove it, on each of our hotel stays, as I always smoke in our room.

Robert stands up, says he’ll be right back, and goes out the door. He’s back in less than five minutes with his stinky fat stogie.

We’re both happily smoking away, when the bartender passes us and we order another round. Some guy grabs the seat next to me as we order; I look over, he looks familiar, but doubt I know him.

Robert comes in about eight, bringing me a strawberry and spinach salad, and some sort of asparagus pizza.

I move to get off the couch; he just says “stay”; I do, as he puts the salad in a bowl from the cupboard and the pizza on the plate. He grabs a can of soda from the fridge; and brings everything over to me.

I hand him the remote for the TV and add; “I’m not really watching this, you can turn it.” He grabs a chair from the kitchen island and changes it to a basketball ball game.

The noise from the TV and me eating is the only sounds in the room. I glace idilly to see who is playing; the Hornets and Trail Blazers apparently.

The food is delicious, and after I finish I put the plates on the counter. Robert asks if I’m too tried to go out. I tell him I’m not; just listless. He types into his phone a minute, and says, “There’s a place you’ll probably like not far away. Head there in about forty-five minutes?”

I agree and head into the bathroom to get ready.

I wake up and lay in bed; it takes me a minute or two to remember where we are. The room is dark, but light is spilling in from the kitchen. I stretch, and reach out for my phone. Robert and I usually pass notes on Google Keep.

I check my phone, and sure enough there is a note; it reads: Dinner. Clothes in closet. 6 pm. R.

I lay there and let the phone fall to the bed; thinking what the fucking hell are we going to do?

I finally get up and walk to the closet naked; the towel I fell asleep in tangled in the bedsheets somewhere. I open the door, and so like Robert there is practically a new wardrobe in there; underwear, bras, shoes, socks. You name it; he didn’t forget it. No tags, everything organized, perfect as always.

I put on pajama pants and a long sleeved t-shirt that matches them. I slide my feet into a pair of slippers, and head into the bathroom.

On the counter is all the make-up I will ever need, plus my favorite soap and glory products. I love the make-up case he got, and the shower bag for my shampoo and lotion too.

I head into the kitchen where there are flowers on the counter, and my favorite Earl Grey tea. A clean mug sets next to it, along with the cookies I like to dip into my tea.

I fill the mug, set the timer for two minutes, and wait for the beep of the microwave.

I dig in Robert’s bag for his DOP kit; knowing he has good shampoo that I’ll like the smell of; I grab his Bluetooth speaker out while I’m at it. No matter his pristine bag now looks a mess. How he packs and does everything so neatly I’ll never know.

I pair the Bluetooth to my phone and just play Dinah Washington as a station on Pandora. I dig in his DOP kit, and find the shampoo and conditioner. Pete and Pero.

I turn the water on and shuck off my clothes while it heats up. Leaving them in a heap on the floor I step into the warm steam of the shower, and relish the feel of the warm water on my head. I stand there just letting it wash over me for a few minutes. Then I reach out and undo the packaging from the soap the hotel provides.

I wash my face twice, then reach for the shampoo; I change my mind and instead use the brand the hotel has provided. preferring the smell of clean to peppermint.

I wash my hair, then use the conditioner. I think as I let the water hit my back how good a massage would feel. I soap myself down and rinse the conditioner out of my hair. I climb out of the shower, but before grabbing a towel slather lotion on quickly. I forego the robe, and just wrap the towel around me as I head into the living room of our suite.

We get to the hotel; I booked us a one bedroom suite; since we are there for at least a week. We check in, and go to our room. Robert has a suitcase; I do not.

Opening the door to the room, Robert holds it open for me to go in before him. He follows me with his suitcase, and takes it into the bedroom. I look at the time on the microwave in our kitchenette, seventeen after two.

Robert comes into the kitchen where I’m just standing, wraps me in a bear hug from behind, and whispers into my neck. “We probably need to get you some clothes.” I nod my head, but don’t move. He adds, “Why don’t you soak in the tub, there’s a bathrobe for when you get out, and I’ll go pick up some things for you.”

I turn around in his hug, and rest my head on his left shoulder, he puts his right hand on my head and we stand there a few minutes. I want to say something, but it’s just to exhausting to talk.

He finally let’s go of me, kissing the top of my head, and says, “I’ll be back; get some sleep.”

I’m still in the kitchen after he leaves. I look at the clock thirty-seven after.

My phone says we are about eighty miles from Boise. Another hour and a half of driving. Then I’ll pick up my car I left in long term parking at the airport, and hopefully stay the night.

I don’t really want to bring my hotel idea up to Robert, but after driving for two solid days from Florida. It would be nice to not be in the car for a moment.

I flew from Boise to Miami to meet Robert and drive back with him. Why? No other reason than he asked.

From Boise we still have to drive home to Seattle. It’s just I was in Boise when he called, and had finished the work I needed in town, and sadly have been not much company on the drive, as I have been working on the Boise Project as we drove back west.

The sign says we are now passing Glenn’s Ferry. I might as well look up rooms on hotels.com; more about wanting a shower than being tired. It’s just after noon anyway. I know we could be home in a few hours, but somehow I don’t feel like going home right now.

As I search on my phone, Robert asks, “Did you want to stay in Boise? A week at least.”

I look over at him, and tell him, “Great minds think alike; I was just looking for a hotel for the night, but a week is fine.” I look down at my screen and ask, “Candlewood Suites and a kitchenette or La Quinta and the indoor pool?”

“Either.” Is his long winded answer.

“Candlewood it is. With the weather; I’d rather have the microwave for hot drinks.” I say, adding, “Did you want to pay online or at the hotel.”

He hands me his wallet, and says, “Use the Citibank card.”

I clarify as I type, “Until next Monday? The 20th?”