Bates

10

   The shinding was prettier than expected. Various shops lined a narrow street, and Norma could smell popcorn popping as they passed a vendor who was selling hotdogs, popcorn, hot cocoa, and smores kits.

   "You want something?"

   "Sure," she said, blushing sweetly.

   "Come on, I know you're not shy. Two cocoas and hotdogs?"

   She nodded.

   Norma was imagining seeing Keith here. She pushed her imaginations away as the deputy paid for their food and shot a soft smile in her direction. She sauntered over and gingerly helped him gather their dinner before retreating to a wooden picnic table. These were part of a circle surrounding the log-cutting area, where they could watch some of the artists of the town carve animals out of wooden stumps.

   "It's really pretty, this little town of yours," she commented, taking a sip of her cocoa.

   Although Romero's gaze was no longer as soft as before, he spoke with her as if she was his equal. "It's not too bad, I suppose." He only hoped that she would never discover how deadly this quaint town really was.

   "Have you always lived around here?"

   "Yeah, me and my parents...it's all I remember."

   Norma fiddled with her dark navy braclet, then glanced up to see a heavyset man wielding a chainsaw. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as he bent down to the closest stump and started hacking away. "Is that a common thing around here...wood?"

   Her partner chuckled. "Interesting, huh? Makes us look like a bunch of country hicks, I'm sure."

   She allowed a smile to form from one cheek to the other. "I've seen worse, believe me."

   "Yeah? Where'd you grow up?"

   "Ah...Ohio."

   He grinned a little at this. For a few minutes, neither of them of them spoke, and he caught her glancing at the makeshift dance floor nearby.

   "You dance?"

   Norma glanced back up at him, confused. She tucked a strand of blonde hair back into its place. "Wha-- oh, no. I mean, I have danced before...not professionally, just-- you know, for fun. I wouldn't mind learning to dance....professionally. I mean," she paused, "I'm horrible at this. I'm so sorry. I haven't done this in so long," she moved away from the table with a swift grace that Romero envied. He felt bad as he watched her smile disappear. "I should go, the boys need me."

   At first, the young deputy was frustrated that she would leave him so easily. Then, he remembered how he found her in that supermarket a month ago. Fragile. Broken. Determined to stay alive.

   "Don't go. I know it's awkward," he mumbled. "I'm not good at this either. Never have been...now Keith," his expression became stony. "He was always a ladies' man."

   The words made Norma sick.

    Romero didn't see the change in demeanor. He stood, leaving their belongings at the little wooden table. "C'mon. Let's dance."

   He brushed her hand briefly, and her eyes wandered down his thin, yet well-framed body. She pulled away from him in a shy manner, before noting the gentle tone of his eyes. "Okay."

    The deputy pulled her into a soft embrace. She fought the urge to inch from the fingers that were brushing her arms ever so lightly, sparking a fire in her heart. They waltzed gracefully to a power ballad that Norma couldn't remember the name of; all she knew was that Romero's hands had moved to her waist. She laughed.

   "What?" He barely smiled. Instead, he looked worried by her sudden amusement.

   "This is so weird," she admitted. "How many mothers are raising their kids in a motel room,  going out with the deputy of a little rinky dink town, and dancing as awkwardly as they did at prom?"

   Her heart dropped as a dejected expression crossed Romero's face. "Not that I'm not having a good time, it's just-- I mean, I just keep wondering when things are going to go wrong--"

   His fingers pressed against her lips. "Shhh....just listen."

   Norma's smile grew. She laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him generously. He smelled nicer than she expected, and she almost commented on it, but the warmth of the moment stopped her.

    The music was louder now, but to the two in the middle of the floor, it had faded into the background. When it stopped, they were left waltzing alone to radio fuzz.

   They walked the streets for a few more minutes before returning to Romero's vehicle. Although he knew a quick way to get back to the Motel from here, he took the long way just so he could keep his eyes on the woman at his side.

   Norma sat in his car, shivering against the cold night's air. The young woman that had forgot her coat was now paying the price with the gooseflesh on her arms.

   "Here," he pulled his own coat from his body and draped it across Norma. His date seemed as a little girl compared to the gratuitous seat of the cop car.

   "Oh, thank you."

   The drive was comfortably silent. Although Mrs. Bates had denied it, Romero swore that by the time he got her back home, she had drooled all over the passenger seat in her quest for sleep. In the end, he walked her back to her room, planted a kiss on her hand, and watched as she crept back through the motel door.

   Keith was sitting in a chair beside the bed. Inside the bed, Dylan was fast asleep with the blankets curled around him like a nest; one-month-old Norman was sprawled out beside his brother with pillows on either side.

   "Hello, Norma Bates. Fancy seeing you here, again."

   Her voice sliced through the thin motel walls. "What do you want, Keith?"

   Mr. Summers feigned an innocent look. "Oh, come now Norma, I haven't come to ask anything of you. Mother just asked if I could watch the boys, you know, since you're coming in so late."

   "I can tell Romero what you did to me. He'll take you to jail," she threatened.

   He was on her in an instant, like a serpent on his prey. "I'm friends with every cop in this town, and you'd better not forget it. Who do you think they're gonna believe, good ole' Keith Summers," he gestured towards himself, "or the whore who works at the motel?" her eyes narrowed as he waved in her direction. "If I were you, I'd think about that."