The Rest of the Story(25)

“. . . okay, well, keep me posted,” Mimi said as she stepped out of what had to be the bathroom. Her arms were full of towels, which she dumped onto a pile of sheets already under the TV. “I’d better run. We’ve got two check-ins today plus housekeeping. Okay. Bye.”

She sighed as she hung up, still not seeing me. I didn’t want to startle her, so I knocked on the door lightly. When she didn’t hear me, I did it again.

“Oh, hey,” she said, breaking into a smile. “You need something?”

“No,” I replied. “I just . . . I heard you could use some help.”

“I always need help,” she said, starting toward the door. Her brace creaked with each step. “It’s an ongoing condition in a resort town. But nothing you can do, I’m afraid.”

I stepped aside as she came out to the cart, grabbing a stack of paper bath mats and a handful of individually wrapped soaps. “I can clean. I’m actually pretty good at it.”

She looked at me. “Oh, honey. You don’t want to do that. Motel work is gross.”

As if to emphasize this point, Trinity emerged from room six, carrying a plunger. “Got out the clog, not that it was pretty. There’s a damn sign saying not to flush anything other than toilet paper. Can’t people read?”

“Shhh,” Mimi told her.

“Nobody’s listening to us.” She leaned the plunger against the cart. “You have linens yet?”

“Nope,” Mimi replied. “Grab some, would you? Get them for six too, we’ll do all the beds at once.”

Trinity nodded, then turned, walking to a nearby door that said STAFF ONLY and pushing it open. As she did, the smell of chlorine bleach filled the air, along with the banging of what sounded like a dryer.

Mimi turned back to me. “Why don’t you walk down to the Station, see what’s going on there? There’s usually a group at the arcade or the snack bar.”

She turned me down so easily; it was frustrating. “I can help you,” I said, emphasizing the words this time. “Really.”

“Honey, I don’t want you to,” she replied. I felt unexpectedly hurt, hearing this. Which must have shown on my face, because she added, quickly, “Saylor, you haven’t been here in over ten years. I want you to enjoy it. That’s what your mom would have wanted, too.”

Trinity walked past me, carrying a stack of folded linens, and went into room seven, dropping them onto the bed closest to the door. On the cart the phone started to ring and Mimi picked it up, just as a white van that said ARTHUR AND SONS WINDOWS pulled up to the office.

“Hello? Oh, hey, Tom. Yes, it’s unit ten. Okay. Meet you there in five minutes.” She glanced at the van, then sighed again. “Lord, and there’s Artie coming for an estimate. Everything’s happening at once today.”

The man in question was climbing out of the van now, carrying a clipboard. He lifted a hand in our direction, and Mimi, looking stressed, waved back. As she started making her way to meet him, I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it. Three times might have been the charm, but it could also mean not taking a hint.

“Why do you really want to help?”

I turned around to face Trinity. “Why?”

“Come on,” she said. “You’re the spoiled rich cousin and everyone’s been told to make sure you have fun here.”

I’d been tiptoeing around her so much the flare of temper I felt, hearing this, was welcome. “Not by me,” I said, an edge to my voice.

“Who cares? Why not just kick back and enjoy yourself? I would.”

“Well, that’s you,” I told her. She raised her eyebrows. “Look, you don’t have to like me or the fact I’m here. But don’t pretend you know me. Mimi let me come stay here with zero notice. The very least I can do is help her out when she needs it.”

“Yeah, but have you ever actually held a job?”

I’m only seventeen, I wanted to say. Just as I thought this, though, I realized she’d probably been working for years. Things were different here. Out loud I said, “I can help you, if you’ll let me. It’s up to you.”

She looked at me for a second, and I leveled my gaze back at her. Finally she said, “Go by the office and tell Mimi you need the keys to room ten. Then go let Tom in. Don’t give her a choice.”

“Okay,” I said, surprised at how victorious I felt. “Then what?”

“You need something else?”

“What I need is to not feel I’m just sitting around doing nothing while she’s working on her bad knee,” I told her. “That’s something I’m pretty sure my mom wouldn’t have wanted.”

She glanced out the door, toward the office. “Okay. Come back here after. I’ll show you how to do the beds.”

I nodded, then started down the sidewalk. Of course she hadn’t denied not liking me, not that I really expected her to. But I’d take her offer. Since arriving, I’d felt like not family and not a guest, the sole inhabitant of this weird place in between. It felt good to have a job and task at hand. Like the chaos that was this trip could actually get a bit more organized, and I might just find my place in it.





Seven


“You know, it’s not exactly that I don’t like you.”