by Regina Doman
“Fine with me,” Mr. O’Donnell said. “Thanks again, Kateri, for choosing to be part of the madness.”
Kateri glanced again at the columns of incriminating numbers. “Did I really get a choice?” she murmured.
She hadn’t wanted a party. Her idea of a birthday was a day off to relax and get things done, including, maybe, an extra day just to sleep. Still, it wasn’t worth complaining about.
But when she walked down the corridor past the gleaming weapons to the O’Donnell living room, to be greeted by boisterous strains of “Happy birthday”
and “Stolot” (the Polish birthday song), she couldn’t help but be touched. Not only had Mrs. O’Donnell baked a homemade cake—lemon poppy seed with white icing and twenty-two candles—but there was green tea, spring rolls, and rice pudding with coconut and mango.
The nice thing about the O’Donnells was that they were pleased by exotic foods, and even the youngest boys ate them without complaining. Kateri had never met five more non-picky eaters in her life.
“You must have called my mom,” she said to Mrs. O’Donnell, taking an artistically arranged flat blue plate with a sliver of cake and a sample of each of the desserts.
Mrs. O’Donnell laughed. “I did. And I had a wonderful conversation with her. She seems like such a fascinating person with all her life experience and all the things she knows how to do!”
“She’s definitely that,” Kateri agreed. “And this is delicious.”
“Present time!” Sam cheered as he handed her one. “This one’s from me.”
Kateri unwrapped her very own copy of Mangan Ninja 2010. “Gee, thanks!”
she said. “Uh—guess I’ll have to play it with you sometime.”
Sam nodded eagerly. “I’ll show you how!” he said happily.
Mrs. O’Donnell gave her a pair of comfortable stylish shoes in black.
“Clarks. I’ve worn them for years,” she said. “Thought you might want a break from sneakers sometimes.”
“Thanks,” Kateri said gratefully.
“And this is from Aunt Mona. I talked to her yesterday and she wanted to send a present.” Mrs. O’Donnell handed Kateri a printout of a certificate. “It’s a trip to a day spa. I told her you could use one!”
“She’s certainly right,” Kateri said, and made a mental note to e-mail Aunt Mona and thank her.
David gave her bath salts, and Mr. O’Donnell, who came in from the lobby to hand her a gift bag, gave her a book of Vietnamese folk tales and a gift card.
“The gift card is in case you wanted a different book,” he said apologetically.
“No! This is very nice,” Kateri assured him, flicking through the pages and admiring the illustrations. (She always appreciated books with pictures.)
“Thanks!”
“Ready for mine?” Alex said, handing her a large box wrapped in printed foil paper.
“Should I be?” But she ripped open the paper, and lifted the lid. There were two paper fans decorated with birds covering something made of pale purple silk embroidered with beads. She removed the fans, lifted up the cloth and gasped.
“Where did you find an ao dài?”
“Where else?—eBay.” Alex grinned. “Like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Kateri held up the traditional Vietnamese outfit, a long-sleeved silken dress with matching silk pants.
“Try it on. See if it fits,” Alex urged.
“Okay.” She took the box to the bathroom.
In the little room, she changed into the dress. The silk slid smoothly over her shoulders. It was well made. She finished fastening the countless buttons up the front and looked at herself. The dress had a mandarin collar and a sleek, form-fitting silhouette that broadened into a skirt with side slits at the bottom.
Demure and elegant as the ao dài was, she always felt a little uncomfortable in the style. Perhaps because she felt she was nearly the opposite of the poised, graceful archetype of Asian femininity. Her mother and sisters looked gorgeous when wearing an ao dài, but she wasn’t sure that she could pull it off. Still, Alex had gotten the right color for her. Purple suited her, even if it was the traditional color of the nobility. Trying fruitlessly to tame her waving hair, which would never be the glossy curtain of silken strands that Vietnamese fashion adored, she took a deep breath, and threw open the bathroom door. “Ta da!”
“Yowza,” David got to his feet. “You look awesome!”
“Not yowza. Owzye,” Sam said, mimicking Kateri’s pronunciation of the dress. David smacked him.
“You look simply beautiful.” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “That color really works for you.”
As for Alex, his eyes were shining, and for once, he didn’t speak. He merely walked up to her in his usual chivalrous fashion and bowed.
“Would you dance for us?” Sam said. “You know, that fan dance?”
“Yeah!” David said. “Please, Kateri?”
Kateri looked to Alex to shoot them down, but she could tell that he thought this would be a fantastic idea. “I don’t think so,” she said. She already felt on display enough as it was. “Well, it fits!” she turned to go back into the bathroom, but Alex quickly grabbed her hand and led her back to the table.
“Mom, this pudding is really excellent,” he said, sinking onto a cushion around the coffee table. “I think we should start eating out here, don’t you?”
Kateri started to object, but realized there was no way she could gracefully escape wearing this dress for the rest of the evening. Outmaneuvered again by Alex O’Donnell. She felt a prickle of resentment.
After the party was over, Kateri hoped to go back and change, but Alex asked her to go for a walk with him. Because there wasn’t much space to walk outside, they ended up strolling around the pool. Fortunately, no guests were using it. Even though the summer night was hot, the water seemed to provide a respite. The pool lights glowed golden in the blue water, casting iridescent reflections on the concrete.
And the dress was really beautiful. As she fanned herself with one of the paper fans, she watched the reflections from the water shimmer on the pale purple silk trousers and the beaded silk gauze. She had changed into the black shoes Mrs. O’Donnell had given her, which fitted well with the ao dài. Even though she was afraid the dress spotlighted each curve and bulge of her figure, she had to admit it was comfortable—not to mention a nice change from the stiff white cotton uniform she had been wearing.
Alex paused by the tall iron fence that separated the pool area from the woods beyond. “We really should plant some flowering vines here,” he mused. “I guess Mr. Bhatka liked to keep it clear, but I think it would look a little less industrial that way. What do you think?”
“I think you really care about this hotel, Alex,” she said.
“I do,” he said, and his voice sounded happy. “You know, going to a liberal arts college, I never considered business. But I’m actually really enjoying it. I like the coming and going of the guests, and it’s sort of challenging, in a good way, to take something that’s already good and make it even better.”
Kateri toyed with her hair. “When do you think you can afford to re-carpet the place?”
“What’s wrong with the carpet?” He glanced at her. “You don’t like the tulips?”
“They freak my eyes out. I’m not sure what sort of demented designer on drugs picked out that pattern. It doesn’t exactly say ‘rest and relax.’ At least not to me.”
“Oh, it was the 70s and no one had their heads screwed on straight,” said Alex lightly. “I had no idea you hated the carpet so much. I guess I thought it was unique.”
“Unique is not good,” Kateri said. “If we could switch to something beige or brown, I’d be much happier.”
“I’ll think about it,” Alex said, sounding a bit put off.
“So you talk as though you’re going to be here long-term,” Kateri said.
“Yes,” Alex admitted. “I think I’ll finish my college degree online and just make
my career here.” He looked over at her. “What about you?”
Alex never missed a trick. He was meeting her eyes, his own green eyes dark in the shadows. She swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“But yet, you’ve obviously been thinking about the carpet. You can’t hate this hotel business as much as you pretend, Kateri.”
“Oh, I’ve always dreamed of washing bathrooms and cleaning kitchens,” she said, trying to dampen her sarcasm.
“You know you only do that because you don’t like the way the maid service does it,” Alex reminded her. “You and your pointless vendetta against the Maids In Time.”
“I’m trying to save your family money.”
“And we appreciate it,” Alex said, leaning over her. “We really appreciate it.”
She accepted his kiss, but pulled away. In this silk dress, she felt shy. “Thank you for the birthday party,” she said.
“It was a pleasure.” He sighed and sat down on a poolside chair.
Kateri lay down in one of the lounge chairs, straightening the skirt of her dress and waiting for him to ask her again about her long-term plans.
But Alex had apparently changed gears. “I hope things aren’t too crazy for you with this hotel full of guests tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope they’re not wild partiers,” she said. “Did you fix the drapes in that one room and replace that chair?”
“I did,” Alex said. “I figured out how to slide the wheels back into the slot on the hanging bar. I also fixed the drapes in 201 and 213 that were sagging.”
“What about the scratches on the breakfast tables?”
“There’s some scratch repair Mr. Bhatka had in his toolkit. That worked well enough. We’ll have to resurface them eventually. Oh, and remind me to tell the family to keep Link out of the reception area. I’ve been finding cat hair on the carpet, and we haven’t had a guest bring pets with them for a week.”
“That cat’s been sneaking into the hotel whenever she can,” Kateri said, shaking her head. “Oh, did you ever paint over those scratches on the wall in room 304?”
Alex nodded. “Two days ago, and I’ve been airing out the room, so it should be ready for the guests.” They had both fallen into their working lists of repairs.
“That reminds me. We’ve got to order more sugar substitute and Irish-coffee creamers. We’re almost out.”
“Okay. I’ve already got red square napkins, toilet paper, and A33 cleaner on the list,” Kateri said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll also have the dry cleaners drop off the jackets. Is there anything else you want me to do?”
“Dance for me, Kateri?” He looked at her longingly.
She closed the paper fan she had been carrying and shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m too self-conscious,” she said.
“It’s only me out here.”
She glanced up at the draped windows. “Plus whatever guests are spying out the windows.”
He laughed. “I doubt it. Come on. Dance.”
She hesitated. “I’m really not that great of a dancer.”
“I don’t believe you.” He put his hands on his knees. “Come on, can’t you do just a short one? For me?”
“Is this part of your play-acting at having a trophy Asian girlfriend?”
“Partly. But why do you have to be so sarcastic, Kateri?”
“Alex,” she said, shaking her head. “When you come up with these crazy ideas of yours, what do you expect me to do?”
“It would be more fun if you would play along,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You know? Come on, Kateri, you need to have more fun. You’re wonderful and competent and organized and put together, but you’re going to get ulcers if you can’t just relax and lighten up. Don’t take things so seriously.
Why should I have any agenda? I love you, and I love your country and I love your heritage, so why shouldn’t I ask you to dance? Stop analyzing so much.”
Everything in her wanted to argue, but she recognized that he was right.
“Okay. I’ll stop analyzing. But I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like dancing right now.”
“That’s fine.” Alex stared at the pool, and she wondered if she had hurt his feelings.
“Thank you for the dress, though,” she offered. “It’s really lovely.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.”
The next morning, Alex caught Link trying to make a break for the lobby.
Quickly he snagged the large tortoiseshell cat, who, luckily, was out of exercise, and threw her gently onto the couch. “No roaming for you today, Link. We have lots of peoples coming.”
The cat protested with a meow, and rolled onto the futon, grumbling as Alex closed the door to the apartment. Striding back into the lobby, he caught a whiff of baking cinnamon rolls and sniffed appreciatively. Maybe the guests wouldn’t arrive right away, and he could snag one.
Buttoning his red jacket, he checked his image in the bamboo-framed lobby mirror, smoothed his short beard down, and straightened his pony tail.
Dad looked relieved to see him, getting up creakily from the lobby desk.
“Nice morning,” he said. “The last two rooms are leaving early. They asked me to set their wakeup calls for 7:30 AM.”
“The hikers?” Alex said. “Must want to get on the road. Hope they had fun rock-climbing.”
“I think they did,” Dad said. “Kateri’s already up. She started the coffee.”
But Alex didn’t see any sign of his girlfriend. He helped himself to a cup of black and a bagel from the plastic Lucite display case in the breakfast area.
Carrying his breakfast to the desk, he paused to clean a table and dust a windowsill, then settled himself behind the desk. He kept a Liturgy of the Hours book in the drawer, a habit he had started at Mercy College, and he read a few pages while eating his bagel. Hearing the whoosh of the elevator, he got to his feet, wiping his mouth quickly.
The hikers were packed and ready to go. It was a mom and dad and several teenagers, the latter in various states of waking, ranging from blinking and stumbling to obviously sleepwalking. But they trooped eagerly into the breakfast area, where Kateri was dishing out the cinnamon rolls. “How was everything?”
Alex said to the dad.
“Oh, just fine,” the dad said, looking out the door at the sunshine. “It would be a great morning today, when we’re leaving. Shame we can’t go on one last hike.”
“Yeah, yesterday when we went rock climbing, it rained till sundown,” the oldest teen boy complained, coming over with a bun on a paper napkin.
Alex shook his head sympathetically. “Better come back soon and try again!” he said.
“Oh, we will, for sure,” the mom said. “We had a great time!”
Alex checked them out, and asked if he could help carry their luggage, but the dad shook his head. “There are enough of us to get it,” he said. The teenagers groaned in unison.
“Have a safe trip home, then, and come back and see us!” Alex said, matching his southern accent to theirs.
“Sure will!” The dad waved goodbye, and his muttering teenagers followed him out. Alex replaced the cap on his pen and watched them go, feeling sympathy for the teens’ weary expressions. They had probably been up late after a long day of more physical exercise than usual. He knew what it was like to follow energetic parents around on a hiking trip. Of course, that was back before Mom had gotten sick…
Suddenly two of the teens perked up, looking at something as they walked to their car. They began to laugh, and pointed surreptitiously. Soon the whole family was looking and smiling. Curious, Alex watched.
Someone was walking up to the entrance door, but the sunlight obscured his face until he came into the lobby. Alex did a double-take: it was a Martian.
Actually, it was a man in a sports shirt wearing an alien mask. At first, Alex wondered if this were a hold-up, and tensed, but the masked man pulled out a wallet instead of a gun.
Alex sputtered in laughter. “Do you?” he said, flipping open his book.
“Everything’s booked for the Windham Olaf business conference.”
The alien inclined his head. “That’s me,” he said.
Alex looked at him, blinking. “You’re with the conference?”
“We’re attending a gaming convention,” the alien explained. “We don’t all work for Windham Olaf, but we all go to the convention together. I just made the reservation in my company’s name.”
“Oh!” Suddenly this all made sense. “Cool!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea there was one in the area! I’m a gamer myself.”
“Well, it’s not exactly in the area. A bunch of us meet here to go down to the convention in Atlanta,” the alien said. “More of us should be arriving soon.”
Alex returned the man’s credit card and spread his hands. “Well, we have the whole place reserved for you, so make yourself at home.” He indicated the breakfast area. “Cinnamon rolls just came out of the oven. Help yourself.”
“Oh! Thanks. But I’m on a low-carb diet,” the Martian said, shouldering his laptop bag and taking his plastic card key.
As he left, Kateri came out of the kitchen, a flabbergasted look on her face.
“Who was that?”
Alex indicated the vanished alien. “Apparently our incoming guests are all attendees at a gaming convention. Kind of cool, eh?”
“And I bet they’re doing it on company time.” Kateri shook her head. “Of course, a hotel run by your family would attract a crowd like this.”
And a crowd it was. By noon, nearly a dozen guests, most of them wearing character masks, had checked into the hotel. Alex had fun chatting with them about their favorite games, and David and Sam were eagerly helping with bags and making small talk with the oddly-attired guests. One guest had an enormous amount of luggage, and tipped Sam and David handsomely, which only added to their fun.