Fallen’s cheeks felt hot with the embarrassment. Fenn had been taller than she was for so long, she’d forgotten to notice he was becoming a man. But she still wasn’t ready to share everything with him. This wasn’t regular stuff—not like promoting a study partner to girlfriend.
“What I want most is for you to get a shot at this football thing,” she told him. “You’ve got talent, and that can take you places. I wish it wasn’t such a struggle every step of the way, but that’s our situation. Once we have you in college, I can figure out what to do next. But until then, there’s just not much in my life to talk about.” She tried to smile, to make him believe her. “And I do trust you. I’ll come to you if I need help. But the housekeeping thing isn’t that hard, and I really like Adelaide, my client on the side.”
Fenn still looked skeptical. “So you’re just working all the time? Nothing else?”
Fallen sighed. She had to give him something. “I do have a crush on someone, and that’s why I’m out late on Thursdays.” She looked at her fingernails.
“I like that better than the other option. When do I get to meet him?” Fenn put his hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at her brother’s sweet face and told him something she really wished were truth. “It’s complicated. Maybe soon.”
“Okay. But just know I’m ready to beat everybody up.” He gave her a cheesy smile.
“Save it for the field, LeBron.” Fallen smiled back.
“That’s basketball.” Fenn shook his head, his shaggy hair animating the gesture.
“Same difference.” Fallen smiled at her brother. “All right, I have to get to work. I have to stop at Adelaide’s after I’m off at the hotel, but I’ll make it to your game tonight.”
Having Fenn think she spent her Thursday nights at a man’s apartment seemed safer than the truth. But lies had a way of building up. And she didn’t like the way the lies she’d heard from Nora over the years now seemed to echo in her head.
···
Adelaide met Fallen at the front door when she stopped by after finishing up at the hotel, as if she’d been waiting for her arrival.
“Hello, dear. Come in, come in.”
Adelaide’s house smelled a little funny. But the woman’s swirl of gray hair was perfect, and she had her lips dotted with pink lipstick. Fallen started her inspection right away, looking first in the kitchen.
One of the stove’s electric coils was red hot, and the dial was set on high. But as far as Fallen could tell, Adelaide wasn’t cooking anything.
“Ms. Adelaide? Were you fixing something to eat?” She pointed to the stove and watched as confusion slipped over Adelaide’s face like an executioner’s hood.
“I don’t think so? I mean, I had an early lunch, and it was a sandwich.” The older woman began to fret, knotting her hands together.
Fallen switched off the dial and began to wipe down the already spotless counters. Marquette had insisted that Fallen message them if she noticed anything. The stove being left on was clearly a problem.
Adelaide sat down hard at the kitchen table. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” Fallen had a good idea, but she sat down to find out for sure.
“My kids aren’t going to let me live here anymore. They told me I was one more mistake from getting sent to a place that could care for me.” Adelaide dabbed at her eyes.
Fallen couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to set rules like that with a loved one. And then she thought of Nora and how she was locked out of their house. Perhaps she had better insight than she thought.
“Your family sounds like they want the best for you.” She covered Adelaide’s hand with hers.
“You’re going to have to tell them? Aren’t you?” She looked downright petrified.
Fallen bit her lip. “Marquette did ask me to email.”
“Do you have to? I mean, we’ve done well so far. I love my house. And here I know where everything is.” She looked at Fallen with pleading eyes.
Fallen glanced at the stove and back to Adelaide. What a horrible death, being burned in a fire. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if this woman was injured because she’d decided to go against the family’s wishes. “I never want you to be hurt.”
“I understand. You’ll do what you have to. I mean, we could make a deal that I only use the toaster? We can unplug the stove. The toaster has a timer; it won’t run past twenty minutes. I never make anything that takes longer than that. I use the microwave a lot. Please?” Adelaide attempted to smile.
Fallen didn’t respond, but instead got up to inspect the toaster and the oven. She could drag out the stove and unplug it, but if the family stopped by, they would see that precaution. She remembered Desta saying the family didn’t come around a lot. They did all live out of town. Maybe she could check in with Desta on Monday, see what she thought of adapting the stove to help Adelaide stay in her house longer. Though she could certainly still hurt herself with a multitude of other things.
Fallen rested against the counter. Adelaide looked at the table while she awaited her judgment. Fallen felt supremely unqualified to make this decision. She decided to buy some time.
“Listen, let’s unplug it for now, and I’ll drop by in the evenings to check on you. Does that sound okay?”
Adelaide smiled softly before adding, “Well, certainly my children will pay you for the extra time…”
Fallen understood what she meant. If she was logging extra hours, they would want to know why. Hence telling them about the oven.
“No, that’s not necessary. Your house is close to mine—we’re neighbors. It won’t take but a few minutes to check in at the end of the day, and I’d like to say hello, just to be neighborly, if that’s okay with you?” Fallen watched as relief spread across Adelaide’s face.
“Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.”
Fallen tried to feel good about the plan, but part of her felt sneaky. As they chatted, she went through the needless motions of cleaning, making sure everything else she could think of was safe for Adelaide. They covered the weather, Adelaide’s honeymoon with her second husband, and the latest with Fallen’s boyfriend, “Tom.” Fallen was surprised to realize the age difference really didn’t matter; Adelaide had started to feel like a real friend.
···
Fallen bundled up for the game and arrived a little before kickoff, settling in the bleachers with a pennant on a stick she’d borrowed from Fenn’s wall. It proclaimed her a devoted White Plains Panther.
Next week would be an away game, which would be far too tough to attend, so Fallen was determined to be the world’s best fan while she could. She plastered a smile on her face, while inside she worried Mr. Orbit might show up again.
When there was still no sign of him about twenty minutes into the game, she relaxed some and waved her pennant. Fenn hadn’t started, but now he was in. The crowd chanted his number a few times after good plays.
The cold game ended in a win for the Hillsdale High School Raiders, but Fenn still waved at her before running back into the locker room with his team. She smiled to herself as she walked out of the stadium and walked home.
Mitchel honked his horn when she was about halfway there, and she climbed in next to Fenn for a ride the rest of the way. She convinced him to drive by Adelaide’s house and pointed it out to both boys.
“If you ever think of it, just come by here and make sure the house is still standing.”
They both agreed and then circled the block to drop her off. Fenn was off to the after-game party at the quarterback’s house, so she waved goodbye and let herself into the house.
Alone, she neatened the house and paid the bills while Fenn was out. This gave her more latitude for colorful swearing. Tomorrow would finally be her chance to look for Ellen. She decided to make the hike to the mall and use a display computer to Google her since the library was closed on Sunday. She had a great starting point with her previous marriage to Lad Orbit, and her step
son’s football team might be another way to track her down.
Fallen got ready for bed and lay down, tracing Thomas’ name on her arm. She closed her eyes and willed herself to dream of him, though he wouldn’t truly be there.
···
Fallen woke in the middle of the night as Fenn arrived home. She listened for a moment before flipping over and committing to the rest she needed. But she couldn’t help missing Thomas now that she was awake. The image she had of him being startled in the mirror ran through her mind. It was terrifying to think about how many things could happen to him at any moment. Each day they had together was a miracle, in so many different ways. It was a long time before her eyes slid closed again.
In the morning, she let her brother sleep in and did only quiet chores around the house. As she brought the trash out to the driveway, she caught sight of her neighbor’s recycling pile. The sports page of an older local newspaper was on top, and it had a picture from Fenn’s football game. Fallen snatched it up and flipped through the article as she walked back inside. She could see the back of Fenn’s jersey, so she decided to clip the picture and put it on the fridge as a surprise for him. As she snipped around the picture, she noticed the caption. Poughkeepsie number 33, the one Ellen had said was her son, stood front and center, about to catch the ball. The reporter had helpfully noted his name: Van Mendo.
Fallen stuck the picture to the appliance with a magnet and found the phone book she was amazed they still actually delivered.
She located a Mendo listing in the white pages that included an Ellen and realized she’d found her mark—no trip to the mall required. The Mendos’ address was in a fancy part of the county, but with a bus and a bit of walking, Fallen could get there. She wrote a note telling Fenn she’d be out for the day and did just that.
···
After Fallen knocked on the intimidating front door, she touched her tattoo of Thomas’ name. She had to find out as much as she could.
Ellen opened the door, but her welcoming smile slid off her cheeks as she regarded Fallen.
“Did he send you?” she looked past Fallen—for what, Fallen didn’t know.
“Mr. Orbit?” Fallen asked. “No, of course not.”
“Yes, Lad. Come in. Quickly.” Ellen pulled her inside the well-appointed house, closed the door, and slid the lock into place. “How did you find me?”
“I looked in the phone book.” Fallen’s eyes wandered over the opulent foyer.
“I forgot they still made those. Tell me why you’re here.” Ellen folded her arms in front of her.
“You know what? You contacted me first. I wouldn’t even have known who you were or thought to bother you. But your sporadic contact and vague hints and warnings are wearing thin. Are you going to help me, or what?” Fallen was shocked at her boldness, but time was running short.
Ellen looked uneasy before nodding. “Okay. Okay. You’re not wired or anything? Or here on behalf of Lad?”
Fallen bit her lip and gave her head a brief shake. “I swear I’m not with him. He just likes to make it look that way. He takes pictures of me when I bend over in my skirt. And I can’t tell him not to, because he owns the hotel that happens to be the only place I get to see the love of my life.”
“That sounds familiar. I’m sorry you’re going through this.” Ellen waved her toward the spacious kitchen.
Without meaning to, Fallen began cataloging the places in the room that would be the worst to clean: the tops of the cabinets, the intricate scrolls in the crown molding.
Fallen sat across from Ellen at the table in the eat-in portion of the room.
“Can I offer you coffee? Or wine? I think I need wine.”
“It’s lunchtime.” Fallen knew she sounded judgmental, but she heard alarm bells in her head when people relied on alcohol.
“Yes. Good. I was afraid it was too early.” Ellen went to the counter and opened a bottle of red. Fallen declined a glass.
“The room,” she said instead. “Is your husband the man you met in your dreams?”
Ellen looked around before nodding. “He is. But no one knows that except for me, my husband, and Lad. And now you.”
So it had been done. Hope made Fallen’s heart soar.
“Tell me how you did it. I need to do it too.” Fallen leaned forward.
“My husband—the man who was with me at the football game—has warned me never to talk about it. But he doesn’t know what this does to a girl. Doing what I needed to with Lad to get to Joe?” Ellen’s eyes were liquid chocolate and flickered with an embarrassment Fallen recognized. “It makes you doubt your intentions.”
Fallen nodded. But empathy wasn’t what she needed most. “How did you get to him?”
Ellen tapped her French manicured nails on the tabletop. “When I started at the hotel, I was homeless. No one knew, of course, because I was creative with how I presented myself. But I was vulnerable, for sure. Then Lad—he was 27 at the time—paid so much attention to me, I actually thought he cared. He took me out, and I believed we could work. It would be like a rags-to-riches story. Pretty Woman and all that.” She stopped and ran her hand through her hair. “He took me on some dates, sometimes providing me with the only meal I had all day. He took some pictures of me, of course, but since we were dating, I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. When he asked me to marry him, I was surprised, but flattered enough to say yes. He wanted me to keep working at the hotel, though. I never understood why until a few months into our marriage. Then the woman who’d been cleaning the 5th floor quit, and Lad moved me there. ”
“She just stopped? Had she been dreaming in 514?”
“I don’t know for sure. I didn’t know anything about 514 then. But Desta stopped of her own free will. You could too, if you wanted to.” Ellen paused until Fallen shook her head.
“I can’t stop.”
“I understand.”
There was a moment of silence as the women acknowledged each other. Desperately in love with a man stuck in your dreams was a unique problem to have.
“Then it was my turn, and I soon discovered what can happen in room 514. Lad had been grooming me for it. I know that now. It wasn’t enough that I had married him. He needed me to choose him over the person the room had for me… Or he wanted me not to dream while I was in there, like him. I don’t know. He never would say. But either way, that’s not what happened. Instead I met Joe.”
Ellen’s eyes were tender as she looked at her wedding band. “You know, real love is such a stunning, quiet revelation. Until it happens to you, you think it can be forced, created somehow. Or that what you have is good enough. Lad still thinks he can make it happen. That, and he’s not entirely stable.”
Fallen nodded.
“The truth is, Lad hates room 514. It took his parents. It drove them to their death. They each wanted turns in 514 with their dream loves. In the end, they shot each other there. Lad found them. He was just a teenager.”
“That’s horrible.” Fallen had chills, thinking about how much time she spent at the scene of a crime. “I guess that’s why he wants it left empty as well.”
“Before they started using it, his parents used to let guests stay in the room. And sometimes it was just a regular room. Not everyone dreams there—the room evaluates the person somehow. But then after a few people dreamed, an intense competition developed over staying there. Lad’s parents got a little greedy and jacked up the room rate, but they still had plenty of takers. They had a good racket going, the two of them, and for a while, I think they were happy.
“During that time, they had Lad and hired Desta to be his nanny. She loved that little boy, and he loved her. There are pictures of him and her all over his house. Then when Lad got too old for a nanny, they gave her a job as a housekeeper on the fifth floor. They wanted to keep tight control over room 514, you see. Things had gotten out of control. There had been more than a few suicides and a lot of broken hearts over what went on in that room. They closed it off to th
e public. But Desta still went in there to clean, and at some point she started to dream. Then one of Lad’s parents—I don’t know who was first—started visiting the room, and when the other found out, they started stopping in too. Eventually they both dreamed of someone else, and things went horribly wrong.
“I don’t know if it was jealousy or longing for their soul mates, but they killed each other over that room. And then Desta watched as Lad became an orphan at 15 years old, not to mention inheriting the hotel business and management of that crazy room. She was determined to make his path different from his parents’, and different from her own as well. She was in deep with the room by then, I think. She made sure she remained in charge of cleaning the fifth floor, and she kept 514 closed. And she urged Lad to find interests outside the hotel, maybe even think about selling it when he came of age.
Desta did all she could for that man. But not long after he turned 25 and assumed legal control of the business—13 years into her dream relationship with the love of her life—Lad rebelled. He said it was his hotel, and his life, and he would do with them as he pleased.
With everything in him, he thinks that if he can find someone to love him, choose him over the person the room has matched them with, that will avenge his parents—and maybe even shut the room off.”
“Why doesn’t he meet his own girl in there?” It seemed like an obvious move.
“The room chooses who dreams. And Lad never does.” Ellen took a long guzzle from her wine glass. “Lots of people don’t. I was not the first girl he’d brought in to work the fifth floor. None of the others had dreamed, and that made Lad uninterested in them. I think I was a Hail Mary pass. Marrying me first was something new for him.”
“So am I another Hail Mary?”
“Maybe. I’d hoped he would move on after what happened with us, but it seems he can’t let it go. He just keeps trying and forcing and manipulating. I think if he could distance himself from the hotel and room 514, he would be much better off.”