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Thursday, July 4, 2013

What Remains (Novel)

The dusty, black Volkswagen hatchback with random spots of gray primer pulled into the parking lot of a small hotel just outside of Amherst, Massachusetts. It was past midnight. Most of the lights on the neon sign that was to read, Hotel Amherst, had burned out, leaving th e words Hot Ars pulsating provocatively in the darkness-a flickering hot pink beacon of hope to all the lonely truckers and morally challenged who happened to pass.
Though physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted from her sixteen hour drive, Tessa Maguire still managed to find the humor in it and grinned. The entire trip had been spent searching for some divine message from the universe in every golden oldie tune and sermon she listened to on the radio. She had even gone so far as to try and make out the face of God in the storm clouds she drove through along the Blue Ridge Parkway, but the best she got was a pretty good resemblance to Buddy Hackett.
For all her efforts to remain open to a Fatima experience of her own, the only sign that moved her to react was this obscene fluorescent invitation to promiscuity. A more heavenly inspired affirmation sure would have been nice; some reassurance that somehow she had stumbled onto the right path. But this one would do. It reminded her to loosen up and just enjoy living in the moment.
Truthfully, an epiphany was not really needed, not at this stage in the game. Her mind had been made up for months. This move was necessary. Of course, she told herself the same thing the last six times she moved in as many years, but at least this time she wasn't ruining anyone else's life with her impulsiveness and lack of focus.

The road to her self-destruction was being paved by good intentions and lack of focus. One needed courage to follow their dreams, and she wasn't afraid of anything, truly, but one also needed a sense of dedication to accomplish those dreams. In that area, she was greatly lacking. From one day to the next her plans could change. She had been like that her entire life. What seemed like an excellent idea on a Monday, could completely fall to the way side by Wednesday after considering all the pros and cons. So on second thought, maybe she wasn't fearless at all, maybe the cons scared the hell out of her. What she needed was a goal that was con-free-and that was simply never going to happen, life was too messy for that.
Okay, enough time had been spent beating herself up. It was time to get out of the car and do this thing. Once her feet hit foreign soil it meant there was no turning back, no second guesses. It was time to stand her ground against her own doubt and make things happen, things that would make her children proud of her for once.
Burying herself deep into her sweater against the chilled New England night air, Tessa hurried into the hotel's office to the front desk auditor who was awaiting her. The poor man was cursed with gold bulging eyes, made even more prominent by the thick, horned-rimmed glasses he wore.
Your team, she could hear her youngest daughter, Lynn, say. Her critical observations of the public as a whole were sometimes cruel, but usually dead on.
When his fleshy tongue darted out from between his heavy lips and licked away the spittle that had accumulated in the corners, Tessa shuttered inwardly and tried to look away without seeming rude.
"Welcome to the Hotel Amherst," he greeted with crooked grin and a wink, acting as if there was already some sort of secret between them.
The mere sound of his effeminate lisp immediately caused goose bumps to appear up her arms and down the length of her spine. Tessa shivered and drawled the sweater tighter around her torso, feeling suddenly exposed and violated.
"I called two weeks ago to reserve a room. I realize I'm a day early, but I was hoping you might have something available," she stated, keeping her eyes focused on the credit card clutched in her hands that were resting atop the counter.
"What's the name?"
Every fiber in her body shouted out for her not to divulge any intimate details to this man, but it had to be done, unless, of course, she wanted to sleep in her car.
"Maguire, Tessa Maguire."
Another creepy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I have an ear for accents. I'd say you're from the south."
Forcing herself to offer some sort of friendly gesture to help improve her chances of procuring a room, Tessa returned his smile and nodded.
"When I saw you walk through that door, I knew you weren't from around here. You have a sweetness about you. Cold winters produce cold wome n."
Another shiver assaulted her. Without bothering to respond, she flipped the credit card over to check the expiration. If she was lucky, it would be invalid and forced to go back to the rest stop some twenty miles up the interstate and take refuge in a bathroom stall for the night.
"Are you going to be with me long?" he queried, searching the screen on the computer for an available room, which shouldn't have been too difficult since the parking lot was practically empty.
"No."
"Just passing through then? What a shame, I was hoping…"
Deciding enough was enough, Tessa abruptly interrupted him. "Do you have anything available? If not, I'll try the Econo Lodge."
The night auditor glanced at her over the top of his monitor, his yellow eyes narrowing, denoting some irritation in the fact that she refused to join him any flirtatious banter.
"Yeah, we have a room. I'm going to need a credit card and a driver's license."
Already in hand, Tessa shoved them across the counter, but not before she could avoid having his sweaty hand touch her wrist. Drawing back quickly, she watched uneasily as he looked over the information on her license before swiping her Visa. When she refused to extend her hand once more to retrieve them, he tossed them down in front her.
"Charlotte, huh? It's not safe for a woman to travel so far alone."
Yeah well, you should know, Tessa mumbled beneath her breath, wondering just how many bodies were buried in his basement.
"Would you like some help with your bags," he offered, totally ignoring the cold shoulder he was being given.
"No, no…I'm good. Thank you."
With that, Tessa practically ran out of the office to escape him. Continually glancing over her shoulder, she removed her overnight bag from the front seat of her car that was packed tight with the material sum of her life shoved into garbage bags and boxes. She didn't allow herself to relax until she was safely inside her room with the door locked, the chain in place, and the dead bolt engaged.
After fumbling around for the light, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the room actually wasn't that bad, considering the lascivious sign out front and the creepy creeper at the front desk. The colonial décor was cozy and warm, and the queen size poster bed looked like paradise after sleeping on a pullout sofa for over a year. But the one thing she was most thankful for was the spotless bathroom that was well-stocked with clean towels and plenty of complimentary toiletries, because the only thing she wanted-needed-besides hearing the voices of her children, was a nice hot, long shower to ease her sore muscles and frayed nerves.
An hour later, as Tessa stepped out of the shower, she heard her cell phone ringing. Quickly, she wrapped her hair up in a towel and pulled the bathrobe around her wet, and now chilled body.
Which one of her four children had forgotten to tell her something, she wondered? Probably Ann, she was the consummate story teller out of the four, who always thought of a post script to add after their conversation had ended. With a weary smile, she thought of her daughter, and how unfortunate she was to be the only child to take after her mother.
Just as she lifted the phone from the bedside table, it stopped ringing. A quick glance at the caller ID told her it had been a local number, and realized immediately it had had to have been Mr. Richards, her soon to be employer. Glancing at the time she saw that it was almost one thirty. Why would he be calling so late? It could only mean one thing, something terrible had happened to change her well-made plans. Why in the world did she ever let herself believe this time would be different than the others?
In premature defeat, Tessa fell back against the pillows and pushed redial with a great amount of hesitation. After only one ring, a man's deep rather stern voice silenced her inner self-deprecating dialogue. In the past that amount of irritation in a man's voice meant only one thing; it was time for her and the children to quickly disperse to the safety of their rooms.
Feeling panic rise up to her mouth like bile, Tess stammered briefly, trying to regain her bearings. She cleared her throat and began slowly, softly; in a pleasing voice that in no way bespoke of the gambit of fear and emotions that was welling up in her chest. It had been years since she had had a cause to react this way-or perhaps, over react. In fact, she had spent the past twelve months without once feeling threatened. But there was a certain quality to this man's tone that was disturbingly familiar.
"Hello, Mr. Richards?"
"Yes."
"This is Tessa Maguire. I believe you just tried to reach me? I'm sorry I didn't answer in time. I was getting out of the shower."
"You're the girl my mother hired?"
What an odd question. Wasn't he the one who had just called to speak with her?
"Yes sir. I'm here in Amherst already. I can be there first thing in the morning if you want?"
"Not so fast," he snarled. "I was told you were forty."
"Yes sir, I am."
"You sound like a child."
Yes she did. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Did that automatically disqualify her from scrubbing toilets? Since when was a 1-900 voice a prerequisite for menial housework?
"Is there a problem, Mr. Richards? I mean, is that why you called?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, Ms. Maguire, there is. You accepted the job offer over two months ago, and I haven't heard from you since. Don't you think it would have been prudent on your part to call and at least confirm our meeting tomorrow?"
"Yes, sir, I suppose so."
"Well, because of your lack of interest and or maturity, I was forced to look over some of the other resumes and start making calls, assuming you had changed your mind."
As her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, Tessa tried to steady her breathing. What was she going to do now? How was she going to find other employment and a place to live before the money ran out in her savings?
Don't panic. Everything is going to be okay. Take a moment to calm down and regroup. It's not the end of the world.
Somehow, she always managed to keep her head above water. At least this time there wasn't four other mouths to feed. She had plenty of money to get her through until she found another job and a room to rent. Plus, grad school would start in just two months and she would get her stipend.
"I understand. It was careless of me to not call. I'm very sorry to have wasted so much of your time. Good night."
In the act of pulling the phone away from her ear to end the call, Mr. Richards' voice appeared again.
"Ms. Maguire, do you want this job or not?"
Quickly placing the cell back up to her ear, hope returned, giving her the courage to answer.
"Yes, sir, I do. Very much."
"You seem ready to give it up without much thought."
"To be honest, sir, you seem like a man who isn't easily swayed by groveling or feminine hysterics."
Several moments went by with no response. Perhaps she had insulted him, or maybe her initial assessment of him was correct and he felt no need to contradict it and prove her wrong. Whatever was the cause of the lull in the conversation, it made Tessa uneasy, and she was anxious to either get on with it, or end it all together.
"My concern, Ms. Maguire, is that I need someone I can count on. Your negligence has given me some reservations about your commitment. And to be quite honest, I doubt seriously after speaking with you, whether you're what I'm looking for in an employee entrusted to manage my household."
Well, if all this man wanted was to keep her on the line so he could berate her, he was going to be very disappointed. Tessa would have all night to do that to herself.
"I appreciate your honesty, sir. Again, good night."
It may have not been the boldest way to tell him to kiss her behind, but it felt good all the same. Ending the call, Tessa calmly laid the phone beside her on the pillow and covered her eyes with her forearm. Unfortunately, there would be no sleeping tonight. She had a lot of things to work out before the sun came up and found her unemployed and homeless.
With barely enough time to give thought to what her next steps would be, the phone rang once more. It was Mr. Richards.
"Hello," she answered, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"I have to leave for work at six-thirty. I'll leave the key with my gardener. He usually arrives around seven."
"No, no…I'll be there by five thirty so we can meet."
This rollercoaster of hope and disappointment was really starting to make her dizzy.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. Very sure. That way you'll at least have an opportunity to meet me before you fire me again."
"Fair enough," he grumbled.
"Good night, Mr. Richards.
I'll see you soon."
"Good night," he grumbled.
Tessa closed her phone and rolled to one side, flipping through the pictures of her children that were stored in it. A single tear formed and rolled down over the bridge of her nose onto the pillow. The prospect of disappointing them was even more frightening than working for a man like Mr. Richards. True, she may not be the most reliable person he could have hired, but how much maturity did a housekeeper really need as long as they could reach the sink and run a washing machine?
Even if by chance it did somehow work out, she would only have to be there a semester or two. Surely she could deal with his arrogance for that long. It would be a necessary sacrifice she was willing to make for her future.
All those years of struggling as a single mother and full-time student would actually amount to something besides guilt over not being there for them, not providing enough, not being the emotionally steadfast mother in the white SUV and velour jumpsuits who baked cupcakes for the class and helped with homework; the sort of mom who tucked them into bed every night after a well-balanced meal straight from the pages of a Rachel Ray cook book. Instead they got one or two hours a day with overstressed woman constantly rushing between classes and work to fix beanie weenies and ramen noodles for dinner, a mom who wore holey jeans and a hoodie as she rolled up late to PTO meetings and basketball games in a beat up economy car with a bumper sticker that read, Honk If You Love Milton.
Yet, despite the trials and tribulations they endured as a single parent family, she considered those years the jewels in her crown, the treasures of her life. It hadn't been the same since her last child, Lynn, had left to attend college a year ago. The painful silence that came afterward was spent watching old black and white movies and crying herself to sleep just before dawn, only to wake up after a few hours to numbly head to a job she hated. The loneliness and loss of self that comes with an empty nest had taken their toll on Tessa. She found herself sinking into a state of apathy that tore away everything that ever mattered to her.
Somehow she had worked her way through it and managed to resurface to the land of the living. The acceptance into the graduate program at UMass had been a huge catalyst for her rebound, as well as the job offer from Mr. Richards as a live-in maid. The way everything just sort of fell into her lap led Tessa to believe the opportunity had been divinely sanctioned. So with renewed vigor, she cleaned up her act; lost the weight she had gained from her nightly visits with Ben and Jerry, and listened to hours of motivational tapes until she felt brain-washed enough to be passionate about life again.
It was indeed time to let her children go pursue their own dreams without concerns for their mother weighing heavy on them. Teresa was determined to piece together some semblance of a future without them. She owed it to them for sticking by her side through everything, and never complaining.

Finally, feeling her eyes close from sheer exhaustion, she reminded herself now was not the time to wallow in regret. Four-thirty would be here soon, and in just a few short hours she would meet this Vlad the Impaler and face whatever was to come.

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