One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(104)
On the fifth floor, they rounded the corner and found Skye’s mom leaning against the wall just outside of Kimberley’s hotel room door. Clad in the resort’s standard-issue middle management uniform of a burgundy skirt suit, she held herself with the noble bearing that came with being the fierce loving, no-nonsense heart of both the resort and the Martinez family. She’d put on some pounds since Skye’s dad’s health had deteriorated a few years earlier, and they’d pleasantly softened her compact, athletic build in a way that made Skye want to hug her every chance she got—not that her mother appreciated any random display of affection.
“Hey, Mom,” Skye said. “What are you doing here? What good is it being in charge if you keep working Saturday nights?”
Her mom flashed the key fob at room 524’s door, then shouldered it open and held it for Remedy and the luggage trolley. “Your father was driving me crazy. You know how grouchy he gets when his back’s hurting him. I made him a poultice of herbs, brewed up my abuela’s tea, and sent him to bed.” She frowned sympathetically at Kimberly as Remedy and Tabby wheeled her in. “Poor thing.”
“Kimberly made some bad choices tonight,” Tabby said as she pushed.
Her mom shifted her focus to Remedy, a brow raised in a bid for more details, but Remedy just shook her head. “It involves the best man’s belt buckle. You don’t want to know.”
“You’re right,” Skye’s mom said, following them farther into the room. “Where are her friends? Why aren’t they taking care of her?”
“The DJ had them busy running through the gamut of eighties dance styles at the reception,” Remedy said. “Kimberly was attempting the Running Man on top of a table while a couple of groomsman were filming up her skirt when I found her.”
“Bastards,” her mom muttered. “Speaking of which … Skye, I thought you were on a date tonight.”
The trolley wheels snagged on something, giving Skye a chance to look around. The room was a wreck. Every horizontal surface was covered with discarded champagne flutes, makeup, plastic dry cleaning bags, and glitter. So much glitter.
Skye reached down to see what the wheels had snagged on and pulled up a blonde weave. With a shudder, she tossed it onto the nightstand. “I ditched him to hang out with Remedy.”
Remedy, Tabby, and Skye made careful work positioning the trolley next to the nearest queen-sized bed. Maybe Kimberly could be roused enough to crawl up into it.
Her mom cringed. “That bad?”
Skye was spared from answering by a sudden retching sound. The next thing she knew, Kimberly had hurled tequila and God-knows-what-else all over her dress, the floor, and the duvet.
Remedy and Tabby sprinted for the hall, squealing and gagging in disgust, but Skye and her mom merely groaned at the idea of what a pain in the ass it would be to clean it all up. Decades working hotel housekeeping did wonders for a woman’s tolerance for coping with every manner of bodily fluid.
Gesturing to the mess, Skye shot her mom a wry look. “Still more fun than my blind date tonight.”
With a roll of her eyes, her mom got on her phone. “Hey, Annika? It’s Yessica. Would you bring your cleaning trolley and a new duvet to room 524 please?” To Remedy and Tabby, who stood in the hallway, eyes averted from the room, she called, “You two can get back to the wedding. We’ll take it from here.”
Some might not like working with their mothers, but Skye didn’t mind. Except for a brief stint as a waitress during high school, she’d worked for her mom all her life. And she was proud of it. She and her family were the backbone of Briscoe Ranch Resort for nearly four decades. Her father had run the maintenance department until his back forced him onto disability, while her mom was the head of housekeeping—a mantle she hinted at passing to Skye someday soon.
Skye made short work of helping Kimberly off the trolley and out of her dress, leaving her in Spanx and a bra, while her mom fetched wet wash cloths and towels.
“You’re too picky,” her mom told Skye as she toweled off Kimberly’s hair.
Yes, Skye was picky. She had to be. The next man she fell in love with had to be forever, no mistakes. “This is rural Texas. There are only so many men. All of the eligible bachelors who work at the resort or go to our church or live in town, I’ve either dated them or they’re not interested in me. There’s no one left, mama.”
She swabbed Kimberly’s face and arms with a wet washcloth, cooing to her as she worked. Skye had endured her fair share of drunken regret back in her early twenties, so she knew how awful the poor girl must be feeling.
Annika arrived pushing a housekeeping trolley. She assessed the situation with a frown and a shake of her head. “Every weekend, every wedding,” she grumbled as she walked to the bed.
Skye’s mom left Skye to attend to Kimberly while she and Annika stripped the soiled duvet from the bed and stuffed it into a laundry bag.
“I can help you with your man problem, mija,” her mom said as she pushed the voluminous skirt of Kimberly’s bridesmaid dress into a second laundry bag.
It was an offer her mom had made before. There was just one problem. “I don’t believe in old world magic, Mom.”
With Annika busy mopping, Skye’s mom watched with pursed, disapproving lips as Skye helped Kimberly crawl between the bed sheets. “It’s your generation. You don’t appreciate tradition. If there isn’t an app for it, it doesn’t exist.”