Matt didn’t answer. “Remember, it’s Easter weekend. There shouldn’t be a lot of people here—especially with this miserable weather. Let’s drive down the main beach road and see if there are vacancies. People usually stay home for the holiday.” It was close to two when Matt drove onto the beach frontage road. Most of the motels they passed had a vacancy sign. Many looked weather-worn. Jorden figured Hurricane Camille probably hit here last August, just as it had in Darby’s area.

The motels became fewer the further Matt drove. A sign for the Drift Inn stood out. “How about this one? Looks like we’ll soon run out of road. I’ll go in and register.”

“I’ll go with you.” Jorden knew Matt could only afford one room, but at least she would pay her share. She was about to jump out of the car when the intensity of Matt’s glare stopped her.

“It’s better if you wait here. Would you say we look like a typical couple from this area? We’re of different races.”

Jorden couldn’t disagree, but something about it upset her. Grudgingly, she slid back into her seat. Irritated, the landmark civil rights decision Loving v. Virginia popped into her mind. The Supreme Court had legalized interracial marriages in 1967. She remembered she and Justin, her old boyfriend, had a fight over the decision. He adamantly opposed the ruling while she agreed with the legalization.

Now look at her. What was she doing? But the decision didn’t really affect her, so why think about it? She would never marry Matt—Alex was the one. She thought about other changes during the 1960s, like hippie subculture in Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco and Woodstock Festival in New York. The lifestyles and cultures of many young people were slowly gaining acceptance.

Matt grinned as he left the office with the key dangling from his fingers. “We got a deal. Winter rates are still in effect for a couple more days. Can you believe $16.99? Higher rates begin in April—of course summer rates are even higher.”

“Let me split it with you.”

“My treat. I mean it. It’s not every day we get to do this. I wonder if we’re the only ones here; I don’t see any other cars. The office clerk didn’t ask many questions—just wanted my money.”

“Which one is ours?” Jorden glanced at the red brick building with white wooden trim.

“We’re in 15-B, the last one on the right.” Matt drove down and parked in front of their unit. Jorden’s thoughts wandered in all directions. This can’t be happening. Was she crazy? She was playing with dynamite. This could destroy her relationship with Alex.

Matt grabbed their bags. “Come on. It’s starting to rain again.” He unlocked the door and waved at her—she got out and joined him.