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He even took a mid-day lunch break and had a cheeseburger in the hospital cafeteria.Fries, too. Health food.When he finally left the massive building, it was close to dusk. He had already checked into a pleasant-looking motel several miles to the southwest - just outside Bessemer, a suburban city on the opposite side of Birmingham from the Interstate he'd come in on from Atlanta.He planned, on the following day, to see whether his exploits had made the Birmingham News. Probably not. He knew the next day was Sunday and they probably put the paper to bed pretty early on Saturday nights.But he would check the local paper anyway, and then he'd have breakfast — probably at another of the ubiquitous Cracker Barrels that lined the Interstate. He'd already noticed one in the vicinity of his motel.But that night when he got back to his room, Ray felt really whipped. Instead of pining for the erotic company of the newfound love of his life, he admitted to himself that he was relieved that she. Mae regarded the sign over the drive. "Bristlepine Resort," she said."Do you know the place?" Never heard of it." It's a big draw in these parts. It's a four-diamond resort, located on Bristlepine Lake with a renowned restaurant, spa ... golf, hiking, skiing all nearby. I brought Michelle here a couple times."I parked in a brick-paved circle and popped the trunk. A bellman set our bags on a cart and followed me to the front desk where I picked up passcards to our room.The bellman led us down a corridor and I unlocked the door. "This is really nice," Mae remarked as she looked around the room. It was a suite, actually, with a separate bedchamber. The bath held an oversized tub and there was a wet bar near the door. Both the sitting parlor and the bedroom overlooked Bristlepine Lake. A pair of French doors led to a private balcony off of the parlor.Mae stepped into the bedroom. "Look at that bed," she remarked. "It looks like you need a stepladder to climb into it."Reminds me of.
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