Room 702

by Benjamin, Ann

  “I completely forgot we were going! I would dance if my feet worked.”

  Diego loosens his tie and asks, “Did you actually get a chance to eat anything?”

  “I think I had three pieces of shrimp at some point.”

  “Wait, what’s this?” Diego walks in from the vestibule to the desk and finds it loaded with food from their reception. In addition to the spread, there is a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne resting on ice.

  “Mine!” Maria says, grabbing a miniature egg roll and gladly stuffing it in her mouth.

  “But who did this? Everyone we know is still downstairs partying!”

  Making quick work of the rest of the tasty treat, Maria looks and finds a hand written note. She reads aloud, ‘Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together, all the staff at the Winchester! Glad things worked out with your dress!’

  While the content couple feed each other, they reminisce on one of the happiest evenings of their lives. There will be consummation of the wedding in the morning, but for now, this couple has everything they want.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  June 12, 1:13 P.M.

  While the bell man puts their bags and luggage away, Joan “Jaye” Felton allows herself to be led into the suite by her good friend and roommate, Caroline Barzan.

  “How do you feel, Joanie?”

  Joan, in the early hours of recovering from a breast enlargement operation that morning, mumbles something incoherent. The pain meds are starting to wear off, leaving her with an intense pain in her chest.

  “Thank you,” Caroline says and tips the Winchester employee, who leaves them alone. “Okay, let’s get you to under the covers.”

  With exceeding patience, Caroline slowly and gently helps her friend into the large bed. Fluffing the pillows, tucking Joan in and closing the curtains, she finishes by saying, “I’ll just stay here and make sure you’re okay.”

  Joan grumbles and then begins drooling onto her high thread count pillow, breathing deeply. Caroline gives her friend one last look, then closes the French doors and wanders into the lounge. Sitting down on the plush couch, Caroline places her head in her hands. Her world had been upended with a realization. Earlier this morning, when Caroline had to say goodbye to Joan as her friend left for surgery, like a bolt of lightning, she came to the sudden understanding that she was deeply and completely in love with her roommate.

  Sighing heavily, she lets her fingers drift over the lovely flower arrangement Henry must have had delivered to the room before their arrival. It takes up half of the desk, but the perfume it creates is heavenly. In addition to daises, Joan’s fiancé also ordered a selection of pastries from Laura’s Sweet Stuff.

  Picking up part of a Snickerdoodle, Caroline absentmindedly nibbles, then, finding her friend’s purse, picks up Joan’s phone, lighter and cigarettes, and walks out onto the balcony. Lighting up a Virginia Slim, the young woman sighs again. Her realization couldn’t have come at a worse time. The new boobs Joan is sporting happen to be a gift from her fiancé, Henry Katzman. Apparently he thought his gesture would be a charming and wonderful pre-wedding gift to ‘treat.’

  “So where is he now?” Caroline asks.

  After the surgery had been scheduled and paid for (his gold Amex, no less), Henry had an out of town emergency meeting come up at the last minute. To make up for his absence, Henry had sprung for two nights ‘recovery time’ at the Winchester. ‘Charge anything you want – nothing’s good enough for my Jaye!’ had been Henry’s parting words.

  Exhaling smoke, Caroline feels like walking inside and ordering expensive champagne just to fuck with the obnoxious man. When Joan had first started dating Henry, Caroline had regarded him the same as all of Joan’s boyfriends – they were obnoxious assholes not worthy of her friend’s time. Her roommate had the uncanny ability to practically trip over eligible men wherever she went. Joan was what every man seemed to be looking for in this town – blonde haired, blue eyed, and a petite five foot four inches. She had an innocent nature that men seemed to readily respond to. In fact, she and Henry had met while Joan had been vacationing in Vegas. At the pool of the MGM, Joan, wearing impractical three-inch heels, had slipped and Henry had saved her from crashing into the water. That had been six months and a whirlwind relationship ago.

  While Caroline had always had a suspicion she preferred women to men, it wasn’t until living with Joan that she had been completely attracted to a woman. The past six weeks had been especially difficult. Joan was prone to walking around the house wearing next to nothing and talking openly about her sex life with Henry.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do?” Caroline asks the traffic below. “I can’t continue to feel sorry for myself and I can’t sit by and watch them.”

  As if on cue, Joan’s phone rings and Caroline answers, “Hello, Henry.”

  “How is my precious?”

  Grimacing, Caroline realizes he hasn’t even said hello, or acknowledged that she’s on the other end of the phone. It’s one of the eight thousand things she can’t stand about him. He has no manners and no excuses to not have them. In her opinion, he thinks money can buy everything. She’s witnessed Henry buy off most of their friends, seen how his open bar engagement party worked, and unfortunately had front row seats to how Joan was slowly worn down on the topic of her recent surgery.

  Furthermore, Caroline had seen how Henry had repeatedly tried to overcome her own defenses. He had upgraded a number of items in the apartment she shared with her friend. Somewhat of a traditionalist, Joan insisted they keep separate residences until their nuptials were official. While Joan spent most weekends with Henry in his oh so trendy home in the Hollywood hills, there were occasions where he would be out of town and Caroline would have her friend back. During those times, Henry would often leave money and tell the girls to splurge for home delivery, movies and pedicures.

  Caroline didn’t buy it. While she did believe her friend deserved to be treated like a princess, she didn’t trust Henry was genuine in his behavior. She assumed he was the type who would have no issues ‘trading in’ for a new model of Joan in a few years and after children one and two had been born. Sure, she would get decent alimony, but Caroline believed Joan deserved more.

  “She’s resting comfortably.”

  “Did she get the flowers?”

  “Yes, they were waiting here for us.”

  “How do they look?”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Good. How about the food? I know my Jaye likes her sweets.”

  Caroline cannot imagine a world where someone who’s just had surgery would have enough of an appetite or coordination to stuff her face full of carbohydrates, but tries to remind herself it’s the thought that counts. She answers, “Yes, I’m sure when Joanie wakes up tomorrow she’ll love them.”

  Joan’s name is another point of contention between them. Upon moving to Los Angeles, Joan, in her pursuit of acting, had changed her name. Jaye is a unique moniker, but Caroline has always preferred to call her friend by her real name. Henry however, was introduced to her roommate as Jaye and continues to call her by this name.

  Unable to think of any further reason to stay on the phone with this man, Caroline asks politely, “How is your conference going?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Okay, well, if she wakes up, I’ll have her call you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Caroline gladly ends the call and then scrolls through the numbers on Joan’s Blackberry. Finding the number she’s looking for, she dials the number and says, “Hey Mom!”

  “Caroline? How’s our girl doing?”

  “She’s a survivor, she’s sleeping it off right now.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that. I still have to wonder why she would want to do this surgery. The Lord gave her such a nice body.”

  Although perhaps Caroline and Joan’s mother did not see eye to eye on all topics, Caroline did believe that the olde
r woman genuinely cared for her daughter. Mrs. Felton came to visit at least twice a year and had more or less adopted Caroline into the family. Before Henry entered the picture, Caroline had been home with Joan for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  “He did.”

  “I just wish we had been able to talk her out of it.”

  Caroline and Joan’s mother had waged a silent war on two fronts to try and have Joan not go through with the surgery. In the end, however, they were both unsuccessful.

  “Me too.”

  “I know you both told me all this before, but what happens next? I hear the word ‘surgery’ and just about have a panic attack.”

  Caroline patiently walks the older woman through all that was to be expected and Mrs. Felton says, “It means the world to me that you are there with her.”

  “Of course I’m here, but don’t you think Henry should be the one with her? Aren’t they going to be ‘in sickness and in health’ and all of that?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joanie’s father passed out in the delivery room when she was born. Men can just be useless. Plus, I think he’s more interested in the ‘final product’ if you know what I mean.”

  The pair discusses some of the other points of the upcoming wedding and ends the conversation. Caroline lights another cigarette and wonders what Joan’s mother would think about her crush on her daughter.

  No doubt Mrs. Felton would not approve.

  As much as Caroline has tried to get Mrs. Felton to admit that Henry is wrong for Joan, she hasn’t been able to make it happen. From more humble beginnings than Caroline’s upper middle class, Caroline knows what Mrs. Felton sees in Henry. He is a stable provider. He has a home and a reliable income. Mrs. Felton does not have to worry about her daughter once Joan becomes Mrs. Henry Katzman.

  Yawning to herself, Caroline decides this day has been enough. After eating a few more of the treats, she wanders back into the bedroom and slides in next to her peacefully breathing friend.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  June 13, 3:03 A.M.

  Caroline wakes up and wonders if she is still dreaming. However even in her best dreams she’s never felt this comfortable. Here in the suite at the Winchester, Joan is spooned against her, their smooth legs tumbled together. Joan breathes peacefully, evenly in her ear.

  All is right in the world.

  How can Caroline give up on this?

  While she recognizes it is impossible to force anyone to be gay or straight, she wonders if addressing her feelings is worth losing Joan’s friendship to see if her friend could ever be interested in her. Joan snuggles in closer and Caroline is torn. Looking at the clock, she sees it is time to have Joan get up and take some of her medication.

  Whispering in her friend’s ear, warm breath tickling Joan’s face she says, “Joanie…”

  “Don wanna getup.”

  “You’ll feel better, I promise.”

  “Owww….”

  “What’s wrong, babycakes?”

  Tears drip out along Joan’s eyelashes. Keeping her eyes shut, she says, “It’s like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest.”

  “The doctor said that was to be expected.”

  “Why did I get double D’s? My B’s were perfect!” Joan wails.

  “I’m sure it’s just temporary swelling. You just need to give your new boobs time. It hasn’t even been a full day yet.” Caroline reaches across and grabs a bottle of water and the medication. Unscrewing the cap to both, she taps out the appropriate number of pills and says, “This will make you feel better. Open.”

  Joanie dutifully responds, while Caroline pours some water in her friend’s mouth and watches her swallow. Racking her brain to figure out something to make her Joanie feel better, Caroline asks, “Want me to wash your hair?”

  “I can’t take a shower.”

  “Come on, there’s a bath with a detachable shower head, we can get you cleaned up.”

  “Can’t move, in too much pain.”

  “Quit being melodramatic. Given the meds time to work.”

  As Joan tries to sits up very slowly, she asks, “Did Henry call?”

  “Yes, but you were passed out.”

  “Can we call him now?”

  “I think it can wait until the morning. Remember, he’s at a conference.”

  Now fully sitting up, Joan says, “Will you help me to the bathroom?”

  “Sure thing.” Caroline moves to Joan’s side and gently moves her friend up to a standing position. They half shuffle, half walk towards the bathroom, and after Caroline arranges a pile of towels and the robes to form a nest, she gently eases her friend to a sitting position next to the tub.

  “This bathroom is really nice.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s better than ours at home.”

  “Sure is.”

  “Do you think my new bathroom will be okay?”

  “I’m sure you can make it as nice as you want,” Caroline answers neutrally.

  “What about Noodles?”

  Noodles was their beta fish and the closest thing the highly allergic Joan could have to a pet. An aquatic anomaly, the fish had survived through various earthquakes and even a brief dump in the toilet.

  “I’ll take care of him.” Caroline answers as she slides down and sits next to her friend in the quiet bathroom.

  “Who will take care of me?”

  “Henry will, silly.”

  “No, he won’t.”

  Caroline isn’t sure how lucid Joan was, however, this moment is as clear as an opening as she is ever going to get. She says quietly, “You can always come back to me and Noodles. But don’t worry, your new home will be lots of fun. I’ll even bring him over for visits.”

  Looking away, Joan says, “That’s just it. I don’t want my new home. I want our home.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I think so. I miss you more than I miss Henry.”

  Not daring to take a breath, Caroline reaches out and grabs her friend’s hand. Trying to keep her voice light, she answers, “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”

  “And he’s not here…” Joan starts to cry. “He puts me through this pain and torture.”

  Caroline puts her arm around Joan’s shoulders and holds her friend tight. Fighting a guilty conscience, she says, “You know he wanted to be here. He just had to be somewhere for business.”

  “And he knew you would pick up his slack! Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I know everyone thinks I’m dumb, but I notice things.”

  “Still, I think in his own way that he does love you.”

  Joan’s delicate hands brush her now enlarged chest and she answers, “Apparently, he just loves a more enhanced version.”

  Caroline has no more excuses for her friend’s fiancé. Furthermore, she has no idea why she wants to defend him or his actions. Stroking her friend’s hair, she asks, “So, what do you want to do?”

  “I can’t go through with the wedding.”

  Caroline still feels a tug of guilt. In this moment of truth, where she could say everything, pour her heart out, the words won’t come. Saddened at her own inability, Caroline sighs and replies, “I’m your friend, let’s wash your hair and get some sleep. I’m sure everything will make more sense in the morning.”

  With that Caroline gets up and arranges Joan’s hair. Turning the faucet on, she adjusts the temperature and begins lovingly shampooing, then rinsing, then conditioning. When she’s finished, she wraps a towel around Joan’s long blonde hair. Joan, who has slipped into some sort of place between being awake and fully asleep, allows herself to be led back to bed.

  “I’ll comb it out for you in the morning,” Caroline whispers, before tucking her friend in and climbing in beside her.

  Exhausted from the emotional and physical ordeal the previous day, Joan sleeps later than her usual 8 A.M. Caroline watches her friend sleep for awhile, then goes to the lounge and flips
through the room service menu. Calling the front desk, she proceeds to order all of Joan’s favorites: French toast, seasonal fruits, lots of crispy bacon, freshly squeezed orange juice and hot chocolate. Although she isn’t sure what sort of appetite her friend will have, she wants to be ready.

  A half hour later the food arrives and Caroline signs for the food, adding a healthy 20% tip. After the bellhop departs, Caroline gathers the spread and arranges the food prettily on a plate, complete with some of the flowers Henry sent.

  Knocking on the door and pulling open some of the curtains, she says cheerfully, “Rise and shine!”

  On the best of days, Joan is not usually a morning person. She mumbles and says, “Mmph.”

  “I’ve got all your favorites.”

  Still rolled over in a cocoon of blankets, Joan says in a muffled voice, “Is there lots of powdered sugar for the French toast?”

  “Buckets.”

  There is some rustling and then Joan emerges from her pile of blankets. After good-naturedly chowing through a healthy stack of fried bread, she finally asks, “Did Henry call?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I should call him. Do you know where my phone is?”

  “Oh, it’s right here.”

  Washing down her food with a long gulp of orange juice, Joan dials her fiancé and switches the line over to speakerphone so she can continue eating.

  “Hey sugar bear!” Joan says as Henry comes on the line.

  “How’s my baby girl?”

  Already nauseated by their conversation, Caroline makes a move to leave, but Joan motions her to stay and pantomimes for her friend to help her eat the spread. Not able to resist the bacon, Caroline stays quiet and picks up a piece. Perhaps Joan has something important to share with Henry and wants her there for moral support.

  “I’m still super sore. I wish someone would’ve told me how much pain there would be.”

  “Are you taking your medicine like a good girl?”

  Caroline rolls her eyes, but Joan answers, “Caroline’s been taking care of me.”