Page 94 of The Maid

Mr. Snow is quiet for moment. Then he says, “My opinion is that some of your colleagues ought to grow up. We are running a hotel, nota preschool. My opinion is that you’re one of a kind in all the right ways. And you’re the best maid the Regency Grand has ever known.”

I feel pride lift me. I may very well have grown a couple of inches as a result of his words.

“Mr. Snow?” I say.

“Yes, Molly.”

“What about Juan Manuel?”

“I’ll be calling him as well to make sure he knows he has a job here as long as he wants one. Apparently, his work permit situation is resolvable. None of what happened was his fault.”

“I know that,” I say. “He’s right here. Would you like to speak with him?”

“He’s…what? Oh. Yes, that would be fine.”

I walk to the kitchen and pass Juan Manuel my phone.

“Hello?” he says. “Yes, yes…I’m so sorry, Mr. Snow, I…no, I…”

At first, Juan Manuel can barely get a word in edgewise. “Yes, sir…. I know, sir. You didn’t know. But thank you for saying that….”

As the conversation continues, it turns back to work. “Of course, sir. I will be talking to a lawyer today…. I appreciate that. And I’m very happy to have my job.”

There’s a bit more back and forth between them. Then, at last, Juan Manuel says, “I’ll be back at work as soon as I can. Goodbye, Mr. Snow.”

Juan Manuel hangs up and places my phone on the table.

“I can’t believe it. I still have my job.”

“Me too,” I say. I feel a warmth spread through me, aje ne sais quoiverve I haven’t felt in some time.

He claps his hands together. “So,” he says. “It looks like two people in this kitchen have the day off. I wonder what they will do….”

“Tell me something, Juan Manuel,” I say. “Do you by any chance like ice cream?”

Today is a beautiful day for so many reasons. Just last night when I went to bed and began to count my blessings, there were so many that I made it over a hundred in no time. I must have fallen asleep eventually, but I could have kept counting the whole night through and never run out.

And today, there are even more good things, too many to count.

The sun is shining. It’s warm outside, with no clouds in the sky. I have just arrived at the Regency Grand, and I’m bounding up the scarlet steps toward Mr. Preston, who has just relieved some incoming guests of their luggage.

“Molly!” he says, his whole face a smile. “It’s nice to see you at work instead of across a crowded courtroom.”

“Isn’t it a beautiful day, Mr. Preston?”

“That it is,” he replies. “We’re at work, and Rodney is behind bars. All’s right with the world.”

I wonder if there will ever come a day when hearing Rodney’s name won’t produce an acidic churn in my stomach and a tightening in my jaw.

“Where’s Juan Manuel?” Mr. Preston asks.

“He’ll be along shortly. His shift starts in an hour.”

“Are we still on for Sunday? I’m looking forward to his enchiladas. You know, I’m not the most adventurous when it comes to food, and with my wife long gone, I don’t get up to much in the kitchen. But that man of yours, he’s opened my palate. Maybe a little too much,” he says, chuckling and patting his belly.

“He’ll be very pleased to hear it, Mr. Preston. And yes, we’ll see you and Charlotte on Sunday at the usual time. I best be going. Much to do today! There’s a wedding and a conference. Mr. Snow says all rooms have been booked for a solid week. Say hello to Charlotte.”

“I will, dear girl. Take care.”

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