Daily Archives: June 30, 2026

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A Trip of One’s Own

June 30, 2026 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as mystery, Road Trip, short fiction, vacations, writing

The cereal poured from the spout so quickly it overflowed Marie’s bowl and fell to the tile floor in the breakfast bar. She and Todd were on the second day of their summer vacation, and bar was a stretch. Other early risers crowded past her, their shoes crunching on the small O’s she’d spilled. She barely had room to turn around to find the milk. Meanwhile, Todd ignored her for his phone, doom scrolling through the morning news.

*Photo by Jonathan Cosens Photography on Unsplash*

She plopped her bowl down on the high-top table, this time causing the milk to splash.

“Are you eating this morning?” Marie sipped her large coffee, glad for the caffeine, eager for the jump start it promised.

Her husband waved a hand, not looking up “Later. I hardly slept last night. The traffic noise, your snoring.” He finally glanced at her, with a scowl. “And you have to drag me out of bed at this ridiculous hour.”

The cereal had already gone limp in Marie’s bowl; she suspected it was an off-brand.

“We agreed that we would visit the Frederic Church house today.” She was not going to let Todd ruin the trip, ruin this precious time away from their cramped twin in Frenchtown and the Ginmans next door, whose three dogs never stopped barking. The rustic hotel along U.S. Route 9 had looked inviting in the photos posted online. Reality proved different. Small was an understatement.

“I’ll just wait in the car when we get there,” Todd growled. “You like that cultural stuff. You know I don’t.”

Fifteen years with this grouch. Had he always been this way? Her mother’s words, whispered in her ear as she adjusted the flounce on Marie’s wedding dress: Enjoy this while you can.

Once upon a time, she did. But now . . .

A hotel staffer appeared at Todd’s elbow and speaking in low tones requested that he report to the front desk. There was an issue.

“What’s wrong?” Marie asked. Todd’s clothes were strewn around their room, but that was nothing new. She would tidy up, as she always did, before they departed. Checkout wasn’t until Sunday.

The staffer ignored her. Todd grimaced, muttering under his breath, but followed the hotel rep away from the breakfast nook. Every table (there were only five) was filled, and the line for the coffee urns wound its way out to the lobby.

After twenty minutes and no return of Todd, Marie tossed her trash in the receptacle and went in search of him. She wanted to spend the day at the Church house and studio. She loved the artist’s glorious landscapes, even if all she could afford was a print of his Marine Sunset she had framed at Michaels with a discount coupon.

Todd was not at the front desk, which was unmanned. Aside from those in the coffee line, the lobby was empty.

“Hello?” She waited a moment, hit the brass bell on the counter, but no one appeared to help her. She fumbled for her cell phone and tapped on Todd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. Had he returned to their room and fallen asleep?

Marie strode back to the room, steeling herself against his ongoing complaints. Like the lobby, though, the room was empty of Todd. Empty of his clothes too.

“Where the hell is he?” She was ready to head out without him. He could just stew for the day, hang out at the hotel, walk to the strip of small retail businesses across the road. She would savor an outing without his dark mood coloring every moment.

Back in the lobby, she stopped again at the desk. The staffer was the same one who had fetched Todd earlier.

“My husband, Todd Slifer,” Marie said. “He never returned to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” The staffer’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps he’s gone to your room?”

Marie sighed, the morning slipping away. “You summoned him to the desk. He’s not in the room or in the lobby. What was the issue?”

The staffer turned to his screen. “There must be some misunderstanding, Ms. …”

“Slifer.” Marie allowed her foot to tap out her impatience on the lobby tiles. This was vintage Todd, playing passive-aggressive when he didn’t want to do something she wanted. “Room 265.”

He tapped a few keys. When he looked up, she took a step back.

“Ma’am,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “The room is booked for a single occupant, you. The room rate is good for two people, if your husband has come along. Shall I add his name?”

The lobby walls seemed to shift, and she grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from falling. “Are you saying that you did not drop by our breakfast table earlier and ask my husband to accompany you?”

“No,” he said. “I haven’t left the desk since I came on at seven.”

“Thanks.” Had he winked at her? Marie straightened up and pulled her purse higher on her shoulder. “You’re right. A misunderstanding.”

She wouldn’t look too hard for Todd, now or later. The tour of the Frederic Church house awaited her.