The Maid(30)

“I do,” I said. “Family is very important. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Not so much,” he said. “Mine disowned me years ago.” He took another gulp of his beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” I said. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would turn down a chance to be familial with a fine man like Rodney.

“Right,” he said. “So those two men you saw in that room? That bag they had? That was Juan Manuel’s bag. It wasn’t theirs. It definitely wasn’t mine. It was Juan Manuel’s. Got it?”

“I understand, yes. We all have baggage.” I paused, allowing ample time for Rodney to pick up on my clever double entendre. “That’s a joke,” I explained. “Those men were literally carrying baggage, but the expression usually refers to psychological baggage. You see?”

“Yeah. Okay. So the thing is that Juan Manuel’s landlord figured out his papers expired. He kicked him out of his apartment a while back. Now he has nowhere to live. I’ve been helping Juan Manuel sort things out. You know, like with the law, because I know people. I do what I can to help him make ends meet. All of this is a secret, Molly. Are you good at keeping secrets?”

He locked eyes with me, and I felt the great privilege of being his confidante.

“Of course I can keep a secret,” I said. “Especially yours. I have a locked box near my heart for all of your confidences,” I said as I mimed locking a box on my chest.

“Cool,” he replied. “So there’s more. It’s like this. Every night, I’ve secretly been putting Juan Manuel up in a different room at the hotel so that he doesn’t have to sleep on the streets. But no one can know, you understand? If anyone found out what I was doing…”

“You’d be in a lot of trouble. And Juan Manuel would be homeless,” I said.

“Yeah. Exactly,” he replied.

Yet again, Rodney was proving what a good man he was. Out of the goodness of his heart, he was helping a friend. I was so moved I was at a loss for words.

Fortunately, the waitress returned and filled the silence with my Tour of Italy platter and Rodney’s spaghetti and meatballs.

“Bon appétit,” I said.

I had a few extremely satisfying mouthfuls, then put my fork down. “Rodney, I’m very impressed by you. You’re a fine man.”

Rodney’s mouth bulged with a meatball. “I try,” he said, chewing and swallowing. “But I could use your help, Molly.”

“Help how?” I asked.

“It’s getting harder for me to know which hotel rooms are vacant. Let’s just say there are key staffers who used to slip me info, but they might not be so into me anymore. But you…you’re beyond suspicion, and you know which rooms are free every night. Plus, you’re so good at cleaning things up, just like you proved today. It would be amazing if you could tell me which room is empty on any given night and if you could make sure you’re the one to clean it before and after we—I mean, Juan Manuel and his friends—stay there. You know, just make sure there’s no sign of anyone having ever been there at all.”

I carefully placed my cutlery on the edge of my plate. I took another sip of wine. I could feel the effects of the beverage reaching my extremities and my cheeks, making me feel liberated and uninhibited, two things I hadn’t felt in…well, as long as I could recall.

“I would be delighted to help you in any way I can,” I said.

He put his fork down with a clatter and reached for my hand. The sensation was pleasingly electric. “I knew I could count on you, Molly,” he said.

It was a lovely compliment. I was struck speechless again, lost in those deep blue pools.

“And one more thing. You won’t tell anyone about any of this, right? About what you saw today? You won’t say a word, especially not to Snow. Or Preston. Or even Chernobyl.”

“That goes without saying, Rodney. What you’re doing is vigilante justice. It’s making something right in a world that’s so often wrong. I understand that. Robin Hood had to make exceptions in order to help the poor.”

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m Robin Hood.” He picked up his fork again and popped a fresh meatball into his mouth. “Molly, I could kiss you. I really could.”

“That would be wonderful. Shall we wait until after you swallow?”

He laughed then and quickly gobbled the rest of his pasta. I didn’t even have to ask: I knew he was laughing with me, not at me.

I was hoping we could linger longer and order dessert, but as soon as his plate was finished, he promptly asked the waitress for the bill.

When we were leaving the restaurant, he held the door open for me, a perfect gentleman. Once we were outside, he said, “So we have a deal, right? One friend helping another?”

“Yes. At the beginning of my shift, I’ll tell Juan Manuel what room he can stay in that night. I’ll give him a keycard and the room number. And I’ll pop in early every morning to clean the room he and his friends were in the night before. Cheryl’s tardiness is legendary, so she won’t even notice.”

“That’s perfect, Molly. You really are a special girl.”

I knew from Casablanca and Gone with the Wind that this was the moment. I leaned forward so he could kiss me. I think he was aiming for my cheek, but I moved in such a way as to suggest I was not opposed to a kiss on the mouth. Unfortunately, the connection was a little misaligned, though my nose was not entirely disappointed by the unexpected affection.