Room 702

by Benjamin, Ann

  “Or maybe Ken never received it?”

  Maureen places her hands back on the planchette and says, “Anything else we should ask? You know, while we apparently have the interest of the spirits.”

  Thalia’s eyes light up she answers, “Close your eyes and concentrate. Where did Brendan pass away?”

  H-E-R-E.

  Both women leap up, letting the board and plastic device clatter on the tile floor. They run into the bedroom and close the French doors behind them. Thalia is the first to regain her voice and, breathing heavily, says, “I think we’ve done enough.”

  “Agreed. What should we do?”

  “I don’t think we can call the front desk and ask about it.”

  Maureen thinks a moment and replies, I think I remember seeing Kahlua in the mini fridge. Maybe we’ll feel better after some liquid courage.”

  Thalia walks over to the small refrigerator and pulls out the small bottles. With the two small glasses clinking, they lay prop themselves up in the extra large bed. Thalia closes her eyes and says, “I guess we got what we came for.”

  “Sure did.”

  “Will you put it all on your blog?”

  “Not sure yet. I have no idea who would believe us. I’ll probably just write something vague and leave it to the readers’ imaginations.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “What will you tell Philip?”

  “Oh, I’m keeping this one for us. Maybe I’ll tell the girls one day.”

  With the adrenaline slowing in their veins and the alcohol pushing them towards slumber, it is Maureen who says, “Rest well, Brendan, we hope you find peace.”

  Still a bit shaken by the incident, Thalia wracks her brain for ways to calm down. Finally, she says, “You know what we should do?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I am way to amped to sleep. I think I saw a collection of Brendan’s films available on the on demand films.”

  Maureen waits a minute before turning to face her friend and asks, “Are you suggesting a Brendan Sullivan movie marathon?”

  “That is exactly what I am suggesting!”

  “That is a perfect idea.”

  As Thalia grabs the remote control and begins flicking through the instructions, Maureen asks quietly, “We’re leaving that board behind, right?”

  “Absolutely!”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  November 11, 11:04 A. M.

  “You’ve come a long way this year, Oscar. I’m very proud of you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Now, in your own words, what accomplishment stands out the most for you?”

  “Kind of all of it, I guess. I know I made some bad decisions, but overall, I feel really good about seeing you. I kind of wish I hadn’t waited so long.”

  “I’m very glad to hear that.”

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  “Did you think it was going to be?”

  “Maybe a little. Anyway, I was thinking the other day to when I met you here for the first time and how far I’ve come since then.”

  A knock on the door gains their attention. For the most part, over the past year they have had no interruptions – this space is sacred, set apart from the rest of the world. A private sanctuary where they can be honest with each other. Although the Winchester has honored their privacy, the hotel staff regularly gossips about what exactly goes on in the room, with a varied set of theories going around. Oscar puts his hands up and says, “Let me get this.”

  Looking at the peephole, he puts a hand over his mouth and whispers, “Oh no.”

  “I know you’re in there – lying piece of shit! Let me in,” a muffled female voice shouts from the other side of the door.

  From behind the desk, Nancy stands up and asks, “Dani?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me handle this.” Nancy calmly goes to the door and opens it.

  Seeing Oscar inside the room, Dani immediately explodes, “What on God’s green earth are you doing with my husband?”

  A verbal barrage of insults and expletives gets thrown around the vestibule between husband and wife, causing Nancy to place both fingers in her mouth and let loose an ear splitting whistle. With their sudden undivided attention, the older woman points inside and says, “Both of you, now.”

  With Dani still grumbling under her breath, Oscar slips into the leather chair and his wife, entire body tense, sits as far away as possible on the couch. Nancy, remains standing and in a low quiet tone, says, “Dani, please let me first assure you – there is no sexual relationship between your husband and myself. There never has been, nor will there ever be.”

  Dani, disregarding Nancy’s comments looks directly at Oscar and says, “I found the bills. You’ve been coming here for months, don’t deny it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Why? Have I not been enough for you?”

  Nancy looks to her patient and asks, “Would you like to explain?”

  Oscar moves to sit next to his wife. He takes her much smaller hand in his and staring at her imploringly, says, “I’m not sure you will believe me, but please believe me when I say that Nancy is my therapist. I’ve been coming to her for counseling.”

  The wind seems to deflate from Dani’s proverbial sails. She looks between her husband and the woman in front of her. Still unsure, she asks, “When? For how long?”

  “Around the beginning of the year. I… I’ve wanted to tell you for months what was going on, but was too embarrassed.”

  “But why did you start going? Your life is perfect.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “You have everything.”

  “Material.”

  “What about your career? You’re on the way to becoming one of the most legendary players of the game.”

  Looking at Nancy and receiving a nod, Oscar explains, “It all comes down to control.”

  “How?”

  “I have none. For years, I’ve had agents, coaches, and sponsors – even you – telling me what to do. My entire life has been some giant event I’m not participating in. I wanted to do something about it. Nancy has been helping me.”

  Looking at her husband, past the face that graces billboards, past the sponsorships and commercials, Dani sees him for what he truly is, a twenty-five year old man. The man she fell in love with. The man she promised herself to – for better and for worse. Nancy knew they would find happiness when Dani asks, “Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

  “You have so much going on.”

  “I’m never going to be too busy for you.”

  Nancy, vastly relieved this interaction has not turned into an episode of Jerry Springer, pushes gently and says, “Oscar, you had other concerns as well…”

  “Fine, it isn’t easy for me to admit, but I didn’t think you would love me as much if you knew I needed a therapist.”

  Dani says, “Honey, you don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “It’s your sensitive side that I love the most. I love that you cry when we watch Up, I love that you come up with a million nicknames for our dog. I love that you learned the ‘Cups’ choreography from Pitch Perfect and that it took you an entire night to get it right. I love that you worry about your Twitter followers. I love that believe in rights for everyone around the world. I would never want you to be a stereotypical jock. Furthermore, I could never think less of you for trying to better yourself.”

  “Really?”

  “What upsets me the most is how you turned to a complete stranger.”

  “If I can interrupt for a moment?” Nancy asks.

  Oscar looks grateful, Dani seems resentful. Nancy continues, “Dani, I need to point out that it is because of you he came to me.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I wanted to be a better husband,” Oscar interjects, then continues, “My inability to control my life made things feel like you were
going to slip away from me. I didn’t want to become a cliché. I wanted…”

  “You have to know how hard he’s been trying, Dani. We’ve been working on communication and Oscar being able to show his appreciation for you. He’s taken this very seriously.”

  “Is that why you got the new agent?”

  Oscar nods.

  “And why we went to meet your parents?”

  “Some things we cannot control. Some relationships are out of our control, no matter how much we wish differently,” Nancy adds.

  “And the donated items for charity?”

  “I wanted to do something special for you.”

  “And why you freaked out when you thought I was pregnant?”

  “I know there’s never a perfect time, but I wanted to get myself together before we decided to be parents.”

  Nancy watches as a range of emotions filter over the young woman’s face. Taking a calming breath, Dani answers, “Although I’m not sure why you responded the way you did, now I understand your reaction a bit better.”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  Dani turns her attention to Nancy and asks, “Can I start coming to these sessions? Is that allowed?”

  “You’ll have to ask your husband.”

  “Oscar?”

  “I think that would be a great idea.”

  Nancy, feeling relieved, collects her notes and says, “And as for today, I think the room would get better use without me in it.”

  With a genuine smile on his face, Oscar says, “Thanks for everything, Doc.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Heading towards the door, she looks back over her shoulder at the happy couple and says, “Same time sometime soon?”

  Oscar looks at his wife and answers, “Doc, if you don’t mind, I’d like to start having the sessions at our house. We’ve got a space that would work well for the meetings.”

  Nancy looks to Dani and asks, “I would never think to intrude.”

  “Please, I understand why Oscar came here, but our house will provide privacy that your office wouldn’t. We’d love to have you as a guest.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  Nancy opens the door and says, “Looking forward to it.”

  When the door shuts, leaving the pair alone, Oscar is the first to find his voice and says, “I still am sorry. The Doc told me to tell you about this from the beginning.”

  “I just don’t like you lying to me.”

  Oscar puts his head in his hands and says, “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  Dani knows her husband, has been around him long enough that she is not going to like whatever statement comes next. While her heart is still pounding from the quickly ended confrontation of a few minutes ago, a small part of her dreaded this scenario was going to be the outcome. Keeping her voice neutral, she asks, “What?”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “That is a terrible way to begin telling me something.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you going to give me some song and dance about another woman? You know what I said, Ozzie.”

  When he was first signed to the team, Dani had clearly and precisely laid out her agreements for their relationship. Sleeping around or dating other women were non-negotiable breaches of trust. Dani promised she wouldn’t make a scene, wouldn’t demand money or compensation – she would simply leave.

  “Nothing happened.”

  “But something must have happened for you to say that.” Dani is unsurprised that tears have gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over.

  “I texted her – that’s all.”

  Oscar moves to put a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder and she tenses, throwing up her hand and blocking his action. Standing up, she says, “Oscar, thank you for telling me. I appreciate your honesty, but right now…I can’t look at you. I’m going to go home. I know you’re on the road soon, but when you come back, I’ll have some things moved into the guest house.”

  “My parents are going to be in town soon,” Oscar says dumbly.

  “We both know they are not going to make good on their promise.”

  Oscar says, “What about December? We were going to start trying…”

  “I can’t.” Dani collects her purse and walks out, leaving her husband alone in the suite.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  November 26, 9:28 P.M.

  With the heavy door barely closed, Milena and Ewan run into the room and throw themselves onto the massive bed in relief.

  “I honestly didn’t think we were going to make it!”

  “Please don’t get me started,” Ewan says, scrambling to the mini bar. Looking at his fiancé, he asks, “Rum?”

  “Yes, please, anything!”

  As Milena goes to the bathroom to wash her hands, Ewan carefully pours two double shots and tops them off with Coke Zero. As his bride to be comes back, kicking her two-inch wedges off under the desk, he passes the beverage across and says, “Cheers, darling.”

  They clink glasses and toast, each taking deep swallows of their drinks.

  “I think I need a full body cleanse before we talk. Mind if I jump in the bath first?” Ewan asks.

  Knowing her fiance’s proclivity for bath time, she smiles and answers, “Only if I can order a mountain of chicken tenders and french fries from room service.”

  “Done.”

  Ewan walks away, shucking his button up Oxford shirt, khaki trousers and work loafers off behind him. After calling in the order, twenty-seven-year-old Milena looks through their bags and pulls out more comfortable clothing than the black trousers and suitably conservative sweater set she has been wearing for most of the day.

  Pulling on sweats and a fleece pullover, she finishes her drink and mixes a strong second. Checking in on her smart phone, she smiles at pictures of various friends and family and how they are celebrating the holiday and debates posting some status update about the disaster of a meal she and Ewan have been through. Deciding to keep things quiet, she walks into the bathroom and sees Ewan, eyes closed, sitting under water. She doesn’t blame him. After an afternoon like the one they had been through, she would want to live underwater if she could. Grabbing his empty glass, she refills his and returns to the bathroom. Sitting on the nearby toilet, she gives Ewan his drink and asks, “Where do I even start?”

  “My mom? My dad?”

  “What about my parents? They didn’t behave any better.”

  “What about my brother?”

  “What about my step-sister?”

  Ewan takes his still wet hand from the water and puts it on Milena’s and asks, “How are we ever going to survive the wedding?”

  She squeezes his hand in response and says, “We will, because we have each other.”

  “You know, there is still plenty of time to elope.”

  “Could we? They’d kill us. Like, actually kill us dead.”

  “Can they if we’re already married? Seriously, what could they do?”

  “But…” Milena fiddles with the diamond on her ring finger.

  Ewan sips his drink and says, “I know, there are a million reasons to wait and o the whole big formal thing, but that won’t be for us.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it.”

  The doorbell to the suite chimes, and Milena exits the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She signs for the chicken fingers, French fries, a fruit plate and three-scoop banana sundae she decided to add at the last minute. As she begins setting all of the food out, Ewan walks out with a towel around his waist and, stealing a fry, asks, “You realize we had Thanksgiving dinner only two hours ago, right?”

  “This coming from the guy who is conveniently borrowing some of my bounty?” Milena quirks an eyebrow in her fiancé’s direction. She then pulls out a large chicken finger and dipping it in honey mustard, looks heavenward as a respons
e.

  Sitting down on the opposite side of the desk that is now acting as their table, Ewan says, “I’m serious. Let’s fly out tomorrow. We can get the license somewhere and on Saturday we can get married.”

  “We can’t just do that.”

  “Give me one good reason why not.”

  Drinking more of her rum and cola, Milena finally answers, “Maybe we can.”

  “Let’s go over what happened today and then you tell me if we can’t walk over to our laptops, purchase tickets out of Burbank and just get this over with.”

  “It really was awful, wasn’t it?” Milena concentrates on her food for a moment and then asks, “Whose idea was it, anyway, for us to all meet?”

  “My mother’s, who else?”

  “And why did we agree?”

  “They are allegedly paying for our wedding. And as we both have student loans and expensive tastes, that’s a pretty generous move on their part. We don’t have a ton of options.”

  “Oh yeah. Well, that may be, but I’m sure we can afford a trip to Vegas.”

  “We can – especially with our end of year bonuses coming up.” They both eat their food thoughtfully, and Ewan asks, “Was there any part of today that was salvageable? Anything to give us optimism?”

  “I think the part where we all tried to pretend we were friends and that everything was completely normal.”

  “So you mean the whole thing?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Milena sighs and asks, “So, other families get along, right? I mean, it’s not impossible for us to expect that they would have something in common.”

  “They do have something in common.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Us.”

  “Is that enough to get through a wedding weekend?” Milena asks.

  “Maybe in the flyover states.”

  “And also, why on earth did we choose Los Angeles as the meeting point? The location makes no sense whatsoever.”

  “We didn’t choose. My mother did,” Ewan answers.

  “Right – well, at least she got one thing right, the Winchester is fantastic. I could live here. I’m pretty sure out entire apartment would fit in this thing.”