Page 24 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
“Now why on earth would she name you something like that?”
“Because she was on drugs when she had me. I guess it was the best thing she could come up with. Everyone just calls me Six though. I’m also the sixth child.”
“Now see, I like that!” Lorna grinned, flossing her open-face golds on the top and bottom row of her teeth. “Listen, if you’re desperate and really down and out like that, I have somewhere you can go. You don’t look like the type that should be out here on the track like corrupted ol’ me. I chose this life a long time ago, and it just is what it is.”
She sifted through the pocket of her red leather jacket until she found her pack of cigarettes and a crumpled-up business card. Digging a cancer stick from the pack, she brought it to her lips before handing me the card.
“A motel?” I queried, studying the large M emblem on the card and the name Rossi Marek with a phone number and email address attached at the bottom.
“Don’t knock it now. I know a lot of good women who have gone there, coming from tough situations much like yourself. This place is low profile; they protect every single woman who checks in and provide resources for you. Ask for Rossi when you get there, and I’m sure she can help you,” Lorna expressed, a little southern twang tinged in her tone as she sparked her cigarette.
For a minute, I skeptically studied the card and glanced at her. After Googling the address, I saw that it was about fifteenminutes on foot from the bus station.There was a closed gas station across the street, and beside it a strip with other small businesses like a barbershop, nail salon, and drug store. Everything looked locally owned, not a McDonald’s or Starbucks in sight.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, baby. Good luck to you.” Lorna waved me off as a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb and rolled its window down.
She reached the window and laughed it up with the driver before hopping into the passenger seat.The car hit the quickest left at the corner, and I took one last glance at the card in my hand. I’d already hit rock bottom, so this had to be a step up. Shoving it into my pocket, I started my stroll in that direction. Because life was so good to me, the downpour started halfway there.
I could barely see through the shower while traveling down a dark road in search of this place. Finally, a very dim red light shined in the distance with the hotel logo. Relief was the only emotion I could pick out. My gut never failed me, so when light flutters took over rather than knots of paranoia, I took it as a sign. Drenched and starving, I stopped at the entry doors. I’d gotten a cat nap on the bus, but my body was tired, and I needed a good night’s rest. There was a circle drive for customers to pull into, and I could see it was three stories high with probably eight rooms on each level. Still, I wasn’t sure how to go about this while standing there so exhausted I was ready to crawl up in a corner on the sidewalk.
“Good morning,” a very calm, serene voice greeted me, pulling me from my fearful thoughts.
She was so pretty, with dark bronze skin and the most radiant glow. Reminded me of when my grandmother used to say that the good comes from within, and you could see it on theoutside when it was genuine, regardless of what a person looked like. Pearline Trevino was the only person in the world who ever gave a damn about me. When I was eight years old, ovarian cancer took her. Seemed like my life became one traumatizing situation after another after that.
“Is there something I can help you with?” the woman’s query broke into my thoughts of my granny.
Her thick, dark hair flowed in loose-wave curls past her shoulders. I could tell it was all hers and not a wig too. At her side was a younger brown-skinned woman with jet-black hair pulled up into a high bun with her edges laid to perfection. Although the woman sat in a wheelchair, she was still draped in Chanel and gold, waiting on me to respond with a disarming smile softening the contours of her face.
“Um, maybe. I was given this card. Told to ask for Rossi.”
“I’m Rossi, who sent you?”
“Lorna. I met her at the bus station when I touched down.”
Rossi cackled and shook her head.
“Good ol’ Lorna. Well, if you need anything, we are here to help. It’s kind of cold and wet out here. You want to come inside, and I can let you get warm? Maybe get you a change of clothes and something to eat?” she suggested.
“I must look a mess.” I glanced down at my soaking wet pants and shirt before looking back up at her.
“Nothing a hot shower and change of clothes won’t fix. Come on. This is my sister-in-law, Sol,” she introduced me to the beauty at her side, who also offered a warm grin.
“Chile, let’s get you out of this tsunami.” Sol opened her arms and waved me toward them.
Taking one last glance around, I gripped the strap to the bag I carried a little tighter and took gradual steps toward them. From the outside, it seemed like some cheap little motel. Once inside the lobby, though, it was nothing but warm island aromasand spa vibes. I could tell someone really took their time with the decor. It was very welcoming with different canvas paintings arranged on the dolphin gray walls. A check-in desk with a glass pane was to our right. In the opposite direction was a fountain with a seating area arranged around it. It was designed like an elegant living room with two sectional sofas and two big wingback chairs surrounding a large brass circle table. Past that was a middle winding staircase that spiraled up all three floors and a set of elevators just past it.
“Sol, grab me the key for 208,” Rossi instructed, eyes never leaving mine as I lingered near one of the couches arranged in the lobby.“Welcome to the Guardian Lodge. I know the name says Marek Motel, but that’s just for everyone else. You can go by whatever you want around here. Tell us as much of your business as you want, or don’t. We won’t hold it against you. Only thing I ask of you is what your goal is, what you want after this. That’s what matters to me.”
“You make it sound so simple,” I tittered.
“Sometimes starting over can be. You just have to figure out how to let go of all the baggage,” Rossi quoted. “You are free to come and go as you please. We provide health care through a partnering clinic. Your room is equipped with a mini fridge that is stocked with essentials, but if you need anything, please let us know. What size are you? About a twelve in the hips and a medium shirt?”
“You’re good.”
“Just experienced,” she responded.
Sol came up beside her with fresh towels and a shower caddy filled with toiletries.
