Chapter 6 #4
A stab of fear nearly knocked him off the bike. What if he couldn’t do it? What if she was just too scarred from past hurts to take a chance on him? What if he’d waited all this time to find her only to lose her before he ever had her? That couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it.
Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he took a right turn into the hotel parking lot.
On the spacious front porch, decorated with white wicker furniture and pots that exploded with colorful, fragrant blooms, guests enjoyed morning coffee and a pristine view of North Harbor.
Entering the hotel was like taking a step back in time: dark paneling on the walls and ceiling, potted palms, Victorian-era furniture and well-worn carpet.
Large ceiling fans kept the harbor breeze moving through the lobby, dining room and lounge that made up the spacious first floor.
A sweeping staircase led to the second floor, and from that a small stairway took guests to the third floor.
No elevators, no air conditioning and not a television or telephone to be found.
Mac’s mother, who managed the hotel, believed in providing a place where guests could truly escape the rigors of modern-day life.
Mac bounded downstairs to the housekeeping department. The smell of laundry detergent and the whir of washing machines and dryers greeted him as he made his way to Ethel’s office at the end of the long hallway.
She was just as he remembered her—wiry build, wrinkled face, a row of studs lining one ear and dyed red hair that looked like it had been shocked into standing straight up.
Mac and his brothers used to speculate endlessly about her sexuality.
Grant was convinced she was a lesbian, but Adam swore he once saw her making out with a guy on the town beach.
That comment had brought about much moaning, groaning and eye scrubbing.
Ethel lumbered to her feet to greet him with a fierce hug. As always, she reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” she asked in that raspy smoker’s voice that Evan imitated so well.
“How are ya, Ethel?”
“Oh, you know, arthritic and constipated. Nothing new.”
Mac winced at the information overload. Grant would howl when he heard that one.
“What brings you down to the bowels?”
Interesting choice of words, he thought, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle. “I’m filling in for Maddie Chester today.” Over Ethel’s shoulder, he spied the time clock. “I need to punch in on her card.”
Ethel stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You can’t be serious.”
“Sure am. I knocked her off her bike by accident yesterday. She’s banged up pretty bad and can’t work. All she’s worried about is losing her job, so I told her I’d cover for her until she can get back to it.”
“But, you. . . you can’t! Your people own this place. What will folks say?”
“What do I care?”
“Your mother will care.”
“That’s her problem.” Mac stepped around Ethel, found Maddie’s time card and punched in. “Now, where am I supposed to be?”
They engaged in a visual standoff, but Mac refused to blink.
Finally, Ethel said, “I’ll need to shift some things around.”
“Whatever Maddie normally does is fine. No special treatment.”
Mac couldn’t believe Ethel actually looked guilty and wondered what that was all about.
He joined the other housekeepers, who were filling gigantic baskets in a crowded stockroom.
He met Betty, Sylvia, Patty, Sarah, Maude and Daisy, all of whom were wearing yellow dresses and white aprons.
Maddie would look some kind of sexy in that getup, he thought before pushing the image aside and focusing on the filling of the baskets.
Mac wondered how some of them managed to carry the heavy load up three flights of stairs. He wondered how Maddie did it.
Ethel handed out room assignment sheets to the women and Mac. As he scanned the long list, it suddenly occurred to him that this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.
“This is Mac,” Ethel said begrudgingly. He noted she didn’t mention his last name, which was just as well. “He’s filling in for Maddie, who’ll be out a couple days.”
The other women, who ranged from twenty to sixty, gave him the once-over with a mixture of curiosity and blatant interest.
A young blonde sidled up to him. “What’s wrong with Maddie?” she whispered as Ethel continued to bark out orders and reminders about Sunday changeover and DNA.
Keeping his voice down, Mac gave her the abbreviated version of the story.
“So you’re filling in for her? That’s so nice.” She lowered her voice even further. “No one’s ever nice to Maddie. It makes me really mad. She’s the sweetest girl.”
“Yes, she is,” Mac said, touched by the tiny woman’s loyalty to Maddie. It warmed him to know she had at least one friend on the island.
“Daisy!” Ethel barked. “Are you listening to me?”
Daisy quaked in her sneakers. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Take room 303 from Mac’s list,” Ethel said.
“It must be bad,” Daisy whispered to him. “Maddie always gets the grossest rooms.”
Mac fumed when he heard that. Things were going to change around here after today. “That’s not necessary, Ethel,” he said. “I’ve got it.”
Daisy glanced up at him with an expression of awe and fear. Apparently, no one dared to cross the mighty Ethel. To hell with that. His parents owned the place. She couldn’t intimidate him.
“I want Daisy to do it.”
“I’ll do it.”
Another visual standoff. Again, Mac refused to blink.
“Fine,” Ethel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Have at it. Get to work, everyone.”
Daisy took pity on him and helped him stock his basket. By the time he had everything he needed to clean the ten rooms on his list, he could barely lift the thing. He watched in amazement as Daisy lifted hers, propped it on her shoulder and headed for the stairs.
By the time he reached the third floor, his back was breaking and sweat rolled down his forehead.
How does Maddie do this? The hallway was stifling, and the lack of air-conditioning would make for a long, uncomfortable day.
He decided to start with what promised to be the worst room on his list—303.
On the ring of keys he’d been given, he found the one he needed, took a deep breath and opened the door to hell.
The smell smacked him in the face, making him gag.
Someone had puked all over one of the two beds, bottles and cans littered the floor and the bathroom floor was flooded.
“Holy DNA,” he muttered as he put a hand over his mouth and nose and rushed in to throw open the windows.
As his stomach fought back a retch, his foot skidded on something.
He looked down at a discarded condom on the floor. “Oh my God.”
Mac turned to find Daisy standing at the door, looking sympathetic. “Maddie always gets these rooms.”
“Not anymore.”
Daisy glanced over her shoulder as if she was worried Ethel might appear any second. “I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to. You’ve got your own rooms to deal with.”
“None of mine come close to this. Maddie’s my friend, and you’re doing her a favor, so let me help you.”
Since Mac had no idea where to even begin, he sent her a grateful smile. “Thanks. I owe you one.”