The Fountains of Silence(13)

“Not at all,” says Ana. “I am assigned to help your family.”

“Wonderful, because my son is looking for a camera shop.”

Daniel gives Ana an apologetic smile. At home in Dallas, his mother’s interaction with their household staff is more relaxed. The people on their estate aren’t employees, they’re family. In Texas, his mother is often described as “elegant Spanish.” But here in Spain, her demeanor suddenly feels brash next to Ana’s gentle sincerity.

As if sensing his unease, Ana quickly offers reassurance. “I often handle errands for guests. I know the owner of the camera shop. I’d be happy to take you, se?or.”

Mrs. Matheson gives a syrupy sigh and turns in her chair. “Se?or. Is my sweet little boy already a se?or?”

Daniel rolls his eyes.

“Oh, forgive me, dear. Of course you’re no longer a boy. You and Laura Beth are off to college in the fall.”

No, we’re not. We broke up. Should he just say it and get it over with? His mom’s reaction can’t be worse than the guilt he’s starting to feel by keeping it a secret.

“Perdón, but we should hurry, Se?or Matheson. Shops will close soon for lunch,” says Ana.

“Sure, just let me grab my bag,” says Daniel. He’s in a hurry too. The sooner his pictures are developed, the sooner he’ll see if he has a contest entry, a worthwhile story of his own, and—most important—a potential exit from oil.





13



Ana and Daniel stand in silence, waiting for the elevator to arrive at the seventh floor. Just as he thinks of something to say, the doors open.

“Buenos días, se?or,” greets the elevator operator. He waves a white glove to welcome them into the small compartment. His forest-green uniform features the gold Castellana Hilton crest between two rows of shiny brass buttons.

The elevator descends, stopping at the fifth floor. A corpulent, gray-haired gentleman with wire-rimmed glasses enters.

“?Buenos días, Se?or Lobo!” exclaims Ana. She quickly makes way for the guest, stepping back so far that she’s brushing against Daniel. In the mirrored walls of the elevator, Daniel sees multiple angles of Ana. He lifts his camera and takes a picture.

“Now, that will be a lovely photo, indeed,” says the man, giving Daniel a wink. The doors open and the lobby staff erupts in greeting when the bespectacled guest emerges from the elevator.

“Who is that?” whispers Daniel.

“Se?or Paco Lobo,” replies Ana. “The hotel’s most cherished guest. He’s been here three years. Se?or Lobo supports two orphan girls and recently adopted an entire village.”

“He adopted a village?” asks Daniel.

“Yes, he adopted the people of Navalperal de Tormes, in the Gredos mountains. He’s very generous and supports them financially.”

Of course. That’s what his parents are doing with the orphanage that Nick mentioned. They support all sorts of charities.

Daniel watches the beloved guest make his way through the lobby. Why would the man live in a hotel rather than a home or an apartment?

Ana signals to a young bellboy, dressed in a uniform similar to the elevator operator’s. A round green hat, like a small drum, sits askew on the left side of his head.

The small boy sprints across the lobby to her side.

“Hola, Ana.”

“Hola, Carlitos. Se?ora Matheson on the seventh floor is expecting an important telegram. When it arrives, deliver it to her directly.”

The boy nods enthusiastically and turns to Daniel. “?Hola, se?or!” He points to the image on Daniel’s belt buckle and bursts with excitement. “Tex-has!” He raises his fingers like guns. “Pow! Pow!”

“Yes, Texas,” says Daniel, laughing. “How old are you, Carlitos?”

“Twelve.” He beams, standing at attention. “Bellboys in Spain, we are called botones—buttons. Most guests, they call me Buttons, se?or.”

“All right, then. May I take your picture, Buttons?” The boy obliges, striking a well-practiced pose.

“Carlitos, please tell the front desk that I am on task for the Matheson family,” instructs Ana. Carlitos nods and marches away.

“He is a sweet boy, and very eager,” says Ana.

A female employee appears, carrying a bucket of ice. Her lips are a shock of red against her pale skin and dark hair. Seeing Ana and Daniel, she raises her eyebrows and changes course toward them.

“Hola, Lorenza,” says Ana. “Lorenza, this is Se?or Matheson. His family is visiting from Texas.”

Lorenza nods slowly, staring at Daniel. Her eyes travel south, taking in his jeans and cowboy boots. Her brows flash with interest. “Bienvenido a Madrid, caballero.” She grins and saunters away.

Lorenza’s self-confident swing reminds him of Laura Beth. Not worth the whiskey.

Summer heat swells and clings as they exit the building. Bellmen direct taxis collecting and delivering guests. Porters bustle, balancing stacks of colorful boxes and shiny bags from specialty shops in Madrid. Daniel scans quickly for the guards. They are nowhere in sight.

“Have you worked at the hotel long?” he asks.

“For nearly a year,” Ana says.

“And before?”

“I worked for a family.”