Hearts Inn Page 7

  Rosalie was still learning to live in a woman’s body. As a teenager, she’d been acceptably thin and tan, her hips and breasts just the right size to avoid prolonged scrutiny, her stomach neither flat nor paunchy. But as she’d gotten older, she’d filled out more, wielding hips and breasts and a small belly that required some negotiation for certain outfits and activities. Looking in the mirror while she was clothed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfortable, either. She was neutral on her clad shape, covering it in equally neutral beiges, pastels, and slimming black or gray. She didn’t dislike her body, but she often dressed with the goal of pretending it barely existed. She would never volunteer information about her period or weight to Alex or anyone else in Ashhawk.

  She was relieved when the paramedic changed the subject and asked her what had happened. He looked at her shoulder, pressing on certain parts and asking if it hurt. It was tender but not painful, and the man didn’t seem concerned.

  After asking Alex her version of the story and having Rosalie take a few shaky steps around the lobby, the paramedic said it was unlikely Rosalie had full-blown heatstroke; she had probably overheated while dehydrated at an unfamiliar altitude, causing her blood pressure to plummet. So long as Rosalie didn’t feel like she was about to pass out again, she didn’t need to go to the hospital. He advised her to stay indoors in a cool, calm environment and drink plenty of water and eat when she felt hungry. Still shaky but relieved, Rosalie thanked him and waved goodbye as the paramedics rolled the stretcher back out to the ambulance.

  Alex turned back to Rosalie with a relieved look.

  “I told you I didn’t need to go to the hospital,” Rosalie said over her embarrassment.

  “I didn’t realize you were a doctor,” Alex deadpanned.

  Rosalie paused for a minute, gauging to see if Alex was angry or simply mocking her, then gave her a shaky laugh. Alex’s humor was dry, and Rosalie liked it.

  Since she had taken a few steps around the lobby to prove she was okay, Rosalie stood again, heading toward the desk.

  “What are you doing?” Alex asked.

  “Getting back to work.”

  “No, you’re not,” Alex said as stern as ever. “The paramedics told you to rest and drink lots of water.”

  “I can rest in my desk chair, and there’s water right there.” Rosalie pointed to the cooler Alex had refilled. But even as she looked at her outstretched arm, she saw a slight tremble.

  Alex shook her head, staring Rosalie down. She was so commanding, Rosalie bowed her head and shuffled toward the lobby door as though she were a dog Alex had reprimanded. Halfway to the door, she realized her phone and laptop were still on the desk and moved to collect them. She taped the sign with her cellphone number on the lobby door and locked it, feeling momentarily woozy as the heat from outside hit her. Alex put a hand on her shoulder when she saw Rosalie’s reaction to the heat and watched her carefully for all forty steps it took to get to Rosalie’s room.

  “I should install a doorbell that rings in your room, so you don’t have to be in there all the time,” Alex said.

  “Would that be hard?”

  “It’d take me an hour. Two, tops,” Alex said.

  “Okay,” Rosalie said, feeling light-headed with even the brief exposure to the heat.

  She unlocked the door to her room and pushed it open. Alex boxed her way in, closing the door behind her, darting to the air conditioner to turn it on high.

  “Lie down,” Alex instructed.

  Rosalie obeyed, not because she was keen to follow Alex’s orders, but because her only other option for sitting was a folding chair at her card table. She was riddled with weakness and fatigue and was glad to have Alex watching over her.

  The bed was hard and uncomfortable. Rosalie had never despised a mattress so much, but she was glad to have somewhere to lie down. As she did, she took in the room around her and considered what Alex might see. Everything was dingy and dated, with amber-colored light struggling to get in through the tired old curtains. Rosalie didn’t know how the wallpaper and bedspread and art could have faded in such dim light, but they had. Perhaps most disconcertingly, Gran’s ashes were sitting on the table in front of them, a morose centerpiece.

  Rosalie’s first night back in Ashhawk had been eerie and suffocating. The ashes themselves didn’t bother her, but with only the contents of her carryon suitcase to alter the space, the remnants of Gran in the room dominated Rosalie’s consciousness. She’d tried to remain detached and unemotional as she boxed up Gran’s clothing and personal items, but it was chilling to be in a space that remained untouched after Gran’s passing. Gran’s lotions and jewelry and coffee mugs were exactly where they’d been the last time Gran touched them. Rosalie tried not to picture Gran getting up that morning a month ago, dressing and making coffee before her trip to the grocery store where she’d collapsed. Rosalie figured she should be grateful she didn’t have to stay in a room where Gran had actually died.

  She wasn’t grieving Gran the way she’d expected to. It had been a long time since they’d talked. Like much of the town, Gran seemed like a faded memory, once vibrant. The natural way of the desert was for things to grow old, fade, and die. Rosalie wasn’t bothered by it. But everything seemed so still without Gran around. The desert outside always loomed motionless, but now the inside of the hotel felt still, too. It was as though Gran’s cheer had breathed life into the building and it was crumbling without her. The room felt heavy and stale, the pictures on the walls tired, the curtains sagging. Rosalie didn’t like any of it. It reeked of death. Rosalie wondered if Alex could smell it.

  Alex finished cranking up the air conditioner and looked around the little apartment.

  “Do you need anything?” she asked.

  Rosalie lay back, adjusting her pillow and exhaling in exhaustion. “I’m okay.”

  Alex looked around, anxious for something to do. When she spotted the sink, she stepped toward it, filling a cup with water and bringing it to Rosalie. Even though Rosalie was propped up against the headboard, Alex held the cup to Rosalie’s lips.

  “They said to drink tons of water,” Alex said, lowering her voice as though she was speaking to a frightened child.

  Rosalie sat still enough to drink from the cup while Alex held it. She was too tired to object to Alex’s fretting.

  As she finished the water and adjusted herself on the bed, she realized she wasn’t going to get comfortable until she showered. She was so sticky with sweat, she felt like she hadn’t showered in days.

  “I want to take a shower,” Rosalie mumbled.

  Alex pursed her lips. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I feel so gross,” Rosalie whined. “I’m all sweaty.”

  “The last thing you need is hot water,” Alex said.

  “I won’t turn it too hot,” she said, sitting up, daring Alex to stop her.

  Alex bit her lip. “Keep the water cool and only stay in for a few minutes.” She placed Rosalie’s cup on the counter and sat in the chair at the card table.

  Rosalie scooted off the bed, realizing Alex had no intention of leaving her to shower and rest alone. While she appreciated the concern, she felt awkward.

  “You’re gonna listen to me shower?” she asked, frowning.

  “I’m gonna listen to make sure you don’t pass out in the shower,” Alex said, daring Rosalie to tell her to leave.

  Rosalie mumbled, “Okay,” and slid off the bed, closing the bathroom door behind her.

  She turned on the shower, making sure the water wasn’t too hot before she stepped under the cool spray, feeling her body sigh in relief. Some of the swollen discomfort of excessive heat finally left her, and she felt her mind sharpen. She quickly sudsed her hair and body, feeling an odd urgency because Alex was in the other room worrying about her. When she was halfway done, a knock startled her.

  She heard a muffled question through the door. “You okay in there?”

  “Yeah, just ri
nsing,” Rosalie called. It felt too intimate to be updating Alex on the status of her shower, but it must have been more frightening for Alex to see her pass out than for Rosalie to experience the aftermath of it. Like an earthquake, the worst had been over before she realized what was happening.

  Rosalie finished and dried herself off, feeling her skin tighten with the forced coolness of the water. She rubbed cucumber-melon lotion on her skin and slipped into her pajamas, feeling them stick to the hastily applied lotion. She combed through her long hair and put some cream on her face before going back into the main room.

  Alex was looking at something on her phone in the chair by the card table.

  “Feeling okay?” Alex looked up.

  “Much better,” Rosalie said.

  “Is there anyone you could call to come work the desk for you tonight?”

  Rosalie picked up her phone, grateful Alex had reminded her she couldn’t leave the office unattended for hours on end. She called Shelley, who was more than happy for her first shift in the front office.

  Rosalie lay as comfortably as she could on the bed, watching Alex, hoping she would say something. Instead, Alex gestured toward the TV.

  “Want to watch something?”

  “Sure.”

  As Rosalie burrowed deeper into the bed, she felt her body go heavy and limp. She was hit by a wave of exhaustion that pinned her to the mattress.

  Alex moved her chair so she could see the TV, positioning herself beside Rosalie’s bedside table. She found the remote and turned the TV on. The sound blared on and the picture focused, and Rosalie saw Jeopardy! was on.

  Rosalie felt herself grow heavier against the mattress. She’d watched Jeopardy! with Gran in this room as a child. It had been their afternoon tradition to watch together, in the lull between checkouts in the morning and check-ins in the evening. They would sit on the bed and play checkers during commercial breaks. Sometimes Gran would braid Rosalie’s hair, cooing over how sleek and full it was, how easy to braid. Seeing Jeopardy! now highlighted Gran’s absence.

  “What do you want to watch?” Alex asked.

  “This is fine, unless there’s something you want to watch.”

  Alex pulled her chair beside the bed.

  Given Alex’s reluctance to initiate conversation, Rosalie figured she ought to try. Alex had proven herself reliable and good in a crisis, even if it had been a small one. After their conversation prior to the paramedics arriving, Rosalie knew Alex wasn’t intentionally withdrawn. Opening up just didn’t come naturally to her.

  “Hey, before the paramedics came, you said your mom left.” She made it sound like a question, an invitation to elaborate.

  Alex nodded, working something out of her teeth with her tongue for a second. “She moved to Phoenix. Then Dallas. Last I heard, she was in New Orleans.”

  Rosalie wondered what it must be like to have such an absent mother. Marisol may have been distracted, but she always came home and kissed Rosalie on the forehead good night.

  “I’m sorry.” Rosalie wasn’t sure if she was more sorry for Alex’s plight or for having brought it up.

  Alex shrugged. “We were never close. We don’t have much in common.”

  Rosalie nodded, feeling like she understood, at least partially.

  “Are you close with your mom?” Alex asked.

  “We get along okay. We’re different.”

  Alex was quiet, staring at Rosalie, urging her to continue.

  “She’s…energetic, I guess you could say. She’s always trying new things and signing up for clubs and trips and committees.”

  It was quiet, and Rosalie kept talking just to fill the silence.

  “Sometimes it felt like she was looking for excuses to not spend time with me and my dad.” The admission embarrassed Rosalie, so she quickly covered. “But I think she just likes being busy.”

  “Are your parents still together?”

  “Yeah.”

  The word sounded hedged.

  “What’s your dad like?”

  “Quiet. Likes alone time. My mom said he’s into owls right now.”

  “Owls?”

  “Yeah. Like, learning about different types of owls and where they live and how they hunt.”

  “I saw lots in the mountains when I was living on the Navajo reservation. Took care of all the rodents. I don’t think I saw a single rat or mouse the whole time I was living there.”

  Rosalie nodded, murmuring something like, “Cool.”

  Alex adjusted in her chair. “I’m gonna get some food. What do you want?”

  Rosalie sighed, thinking food did sound pretty good.

  “Grilled chicken,” Rosalie said. “And sopapillas if they have it.”

  “This is Ashhawk,” Alex said with a smirk. “You’re not allowed to live here if you don’t like sopapillas.”

  “Okay. My purse is over there.”

  Rosalie pointed to her purse on the table where it sat next to Gran’s ashes.

  Alex looked at the box, then back at Rosalie before she stood and swatted the air. “I got it.” She handed Rosalie the TV remote and picked up her keys. “Back in a bit.”

  Rosalie waved, grateful for this unexpectedly protective and generous side of Alex. When Alex closed the door, Rosalie settled into the quiet, ignoring the looming fatigue around her, not even trying to guess the answers before the contestants could respond. For a moment, she forgot Gran wasn’t with her, forgot how tired and hungry she was, and forgot she was trapped in Ashhawk. She drifted near to sleep, exhausted.

  Alex knocked and entered when Rosalie roused herself from sleep and invited her in. A large bag of takeout was dangling from Alex’s index and middle finger. Rosalie hadn’t moved from where she was lying in bed, overwhelmingly tired and ready for food. She realized she had done a number on herself and vowed to drink more water every day.

  “Did I miss anything?” Alex asked with a smile.

  “No,” Rosalie said, sounding sleepy.

  Alex set the bag of food on the card table, careful not to jostle the box of ashes and trying not to obscure the TV as she unpacked what looked like enough food for a family of four.

  “What’d you get?” Rosalie asked.

  “New Mexico’s finest,” Alex said with a grin. “If you’re only gonna be here a little while, you’ve got to appreciate pine nuts and green chili while you can.”

  Rosalie gave Alex a tired smile and moved to sit up.

  “Stay there,” Alex said as she opened a few containers.

  Rosalie didn’t object, sinking back into the pillows. Alex took a few steps over to the small kitchen, finding plates and bowls and silverware. She plated a few things and brought over a dish steaming with fragrant Southwestern food. Rosalie had forgotten how good the food was in this part of the country when it was done right.

  Rosalie couldn’t think of anyone else in her life who would be so attentive to her in this situation. Even her own mother would have tired of waiting on her, leaving a twenty on the table for pizza and waving goodbye as she left to go bowling or to an art gallery opening or belly dance class with her friends.

  “I haven’t had someone bring me dinner in a while.”

  Halfway through her sentence, she realized Tara had brought her dinner a few weeks before she’d left for Ashhawk. She worried she’d never know if they had long-term potential.

  “It’s not like I made it,” Alex said.

  “Still. It’s nice to not have to worry about it.”

  “Consider us even from the other night,” Alex said with a fleeting smile, setting a fresh glass of water beside the bed for Rosalie.

  Alex turned her chair so she could use the nightstand as a table while she ate and watched Jeopardy! As she was situating herself, she pointed to the door leading to the adjoining room.

  “Do you ever go in the other room?”

  Rosalie shook her head against the headboard. “It’s set up for occupancy.”

  Alex pursed her lips, as th
ough to hold in a comment about how unnecessary that was. The hotel wasn’t even close to full. Rosalie could have used the adjoining room as an extension of her suite, giving her twice as much living space and more natural light in the daytime since the other room wasn’t tucked back in the corner of the building.

  “I don’t have anything to put in there,” Rosalie admitted. “Plus, I’m only here for a little bit.”

  “Right,” Alex said, turning back to her food. She took a bite, humming in appreciation as she looked up at the TV. “Do you mind if we check the game?”

  Rosalie felt foolish for not offering to let Alex pick what they watched.

  “What channel?”

  Alex instructed her where to tune and leaned forward, elbows on her knees in rapt attention.

  Rosalie watched her, more interested in Alex than the cheering and shuffling and droning on the screen in front of them. Alex shifted in her seat, excited about whatever was happening. Rosalie had never seen her so invested in something. She knew Alex could focus on maintenance tasks for long periods of time, but she had never seen this kind of excitement from her.

  Rosalie ate, quietly blowing through a silent O in her mouth when it got too spicy. Alex seemed to be able to tolerate the spiciness better than she, but Rosalie didn’t want Alex to know that. She was supposed to be able to handle spicy food.

  When Rosalie was half done with her meal, she asked what quarter they were in.

  “Ninth innings,” Alex said, trying not to laugh.

  “Oh,” Rosalie said, feeling embarrassment creep warm through her skin. “I didn’t grow up watching sports.”

  “We can change the channel if you want.” Alex looked up as though realizing she’d been ignoring Rosalie.

  “It’s okay,” Rosalie said with a smile, spooning another bite. “I’m enjoying my food more than I’d enjoy any show.”

  Alex nodded and refocused on the game. She tensed a few times, fists clenched in front of her, flopping back in her chair when someone struck out or something. Rosalie tried to follow along, but it was hopeless. She knew less about sports than managing a hotel, and that was saying something.