Page 12 of Punished

Thalia notices my silence, but doesn’t push, as if she knows my revenge plot already. She leans forward and holds her head up with her palm.

“You know they are having an engagement party here, at the hotel? It’s next month, but I bet we can lure Bryan here sooner.” That familiar crazy look on her face matches the one on mine. She is stirring up her own revenge plan. We might be more alike than I thought.

After breakfast, I make my way to the front desk to see what needs to be done for the day. Enrique fired Don Mario for drinking on the job again. He was trying to hand out pajaretes for breakfast when one of the maids snitched on him. At least he was thoughtful enough to share the drink with others. He was from a small ranch town in Mexico, where the drink was more common. It was a strong mix of coffee, chocolate milk, and vodka. I would have taken one if I were down there. Who am Ito refuse the hospitality of my elders? This would be the third time Enrique tried firing him this week. He’ll be back tomorrow.

Thalia had worked on narrowing the addresses Patricio gave me down to one, where she suspected my mother was located. I had a few days off before we planned to raid the place.

I am working on changing out lights in the main lobby when I see a familiar face walking in. Constance Torres, Mireya’s mother. The bitch never liked me, and I never liked her either. She would often come by when my mom was home, inviting her for nightly walks, but she always came off as fake. She’s dressed like she’s been invited to the royal palace, and I watch as she walks up to the reception desk. She must be looking for Mireya, who even I know doesn’t work Fridays.Investigating, not stalking. She is about to turn and leave when she recognizes me descending the ladder.

“Adriano?” she says as she walks toward me. She has on a fake smile to match her fake designer heels. “Adriano. Mijo. ¿Como estas?”

As much as I want to ignore her, I also know the game I need to play. Consuelo may know where my mom is, as most of the neighbors have confirmed the last time they saw her, she was getting into Constance’s car.

“I’m good, Mrs. Torres. How are you?” Enrique and Patricio are coming in from a meeting they left to when they spot me talking with her.

“Constance,” Patricio says as he approaches us. He greets her with a hug and kiss to the cheek. She stands there for a second, waiting for Enrique to do the same, but he just stands there, looking at her with disgust written all over his face. If she notices, she acts unbothered as she turns to Patricio.

“Adrian used to live in my neighborhood. Well, before he went to jail for drug charges.” Patricio smiles, unphased by her attempts to insult me.

“Oh, but don’t you worry, he is such a nice kid, and I’m sure he learned his lesson.” Before I can even reply, Enrique’s tongue is armed and ready.

"I'll have you know, Con-stan-ce," he says, drawing her name out to three syllables, "that Adrian is our nephew. An heir to the luxuries of Calavera Hotels." He opens his arms to the lobby, waiting to see her reaction. She looks unamused by this news, but not at all surprised.Interesting.Maybe my mother had confided in her about my biological father.

Constance makes up some excuse about a high society brunch before leaving. Patricio sighs as he looks to Enrique. “Do you have to be such an asshole all the time?”

“With her, yes. She is a snake wearing fake Gucci heels. She only came here so she could harass Mireya into giving her a Seafood Buffet pass.” He rolls his eyes as he walks toward the office.

“Your Tio Enrique, the diva of Calavera Hotel,” Patricio says with a chuckle and follows behind him. But Enrique is on to something, and while I thought I could do this job alone, I may need to bring Thalia in on my revenge plan and get what information I can out of her about Constance Torres.

“You were sleepwalking again last night,” Alma says. I decided to catch a ride with her early to work. I could hang out at Thalia’s before I started my shift.

“Was it bad?” I ask. I’ve had sleep problems since my dad passed away. I slept a lot during the first few months. I would have vivid dreams of him, and in my distress, the dreams were all I had to look forward to. My mother’s solution to the problem was to slap me every time she caught me walking around the house, crying for him. She had me see a doctor, but his best remedy for the problem was lowering my caffeine intake, monitoring my stress levels, and avoiding alcohol before bed. All of which are not happening anytime soon with the shit going on in my life.

“Well, you were eating all the gansitos from the freezer and…” she pauses, and I watch as she tries to think.

“And what? Just tell me, Alma!” I hope I hadn’t attacked her again. She was too sweet to tell me if I had. The first time she and Thalia found me sleepwalking, Thalia tried to wake me up and I attacked her.

“You were asking Adrian to fuck you,” she whispers, as if someone could hear her through the car. I throw my hands into my face as I lean back into the seat and groan.

“Sex dreams are absolutely normal.” In typical Alma fashion, she tries to comfort me. I’m grateful I share an apartment with Alma and not Thalia. Had it been Thalia, I’m positive I would have been recorded and mocked for years on end.

“Maybe you are just sexually frustrated?” That is an understatement. More like I am sexually depriving myself. I hadn’t even touched a vibrator in the last year. I even thought about asking Doctor Aguilar to prescribe me something for my libido, but I am too embarrassed to bring it up. Yet, ever since Adrian came back, it’s like my libido was miraculously resurrected. The day he pushed against me, the rough way he grabbed my wrist, and the quick looks I would steal when he was around. The other day, I had to call him to unclog the women’s bathroom in the lobby. I was turned on watching him plunge a toilet, for Christ’s sake.

I’ve had several sex dreams since he returned. I wouldwake up wet, with the smell of arousal on my fingers, like I had been masturbating. God, I hope I wasn’t masturbating in front of Alma. I had read about sleep walkers developing sexsomnia, but I also read it was more common for men. I didn’t think anything of it, much less that it would affect me.

“What am I going to do?” Alma’s resolution is to hook me up with one of the other maid’s brothers. She’s starting the long list of all his good qualities and their entire family history.

“What did you say his name was?” I might need to take her up on the offer. At this point, I needed to get Adrian out of my mind. By June, I could quit my job and never see him again.

“Osvaldo.” The name sounds beautiful in her Spanish accent. It would never sound like that coming from me and my broken Spanglish. Another of my many insecurities.

“Wait, isn’t that Oswald in English?”

“Ya. I think so.”

“Alma, I can’t date a guy named Oswald. The name Oswald makes me think of Benjamin Button as an old man baby. I wouldn’t be able to look at the man without thinking about him aging backward on me and having to hold him like Cate Blanchett at the end of the movie.” It’sshallow and petty, but this is usually why I didn’t date to begin with. I always find one thing that makes me dislike the person. I joined Chispa once, and there were plenty of attractive men on there, but I would find one thing wrong and block them. Alma sighs and turns up the music. I’m a lost cause.

When we get to the hotel, I make my way up to Thalia’s apartment just as Olivia is rushing out the door.

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