After a few more minutes, Alex exhaled in relief as a commercial came on. She sat back and reached for her water. Rosalie realized she should have offered Alex a drink. “Do you want some hard cider?”
Alex contemplated for a second before saying, “Sure.”
Rosalie knew hard cider wasn’t Alex’s first choice, but mostly, she wanted Alex to feel appreciated.
As Rosalie moved to get up, Alex sprang out of her chair. “I got it.”
Alex stooped to open the little fridge. She took out a hard cider and popped the cap off, taking a swig. Rosalie saw a look of surprise cross her face at the taste.
“Pretty sweet,” Alex said, examining the bottle.
“I know,” Rosalie said apologetically. “I can get you some beer if you want.”
Alex shook her head, and Rosalie knew she wouldn’t be permitted to go out into the heat until the next day. Knowing she’d be shaky until she got more food into herself, Rosalie was okay with that.
“This is fine,” Alex said, sitting back in her chair, legs spread out.
As Alex took a few more bites of her dinner, Rosalie looked at the clock. She was surprised to see how late it was. Given the dismal amount of natural light in the room, she hadn’t realized the sun was setting. As much as she enjoyed having Alex around, she hoped the baseball game would be over soon so she could watch her favorite show.
It was her usual Wednesday night ritual; she’d make herself dinner or order in, curl up on her couch, and watch in rapt attention as her favorite fictional firefighters battled flames, odds, and one another on Light My Fire. Aside from the terrible title, the show had been running for a few years, and Rosalie’s interest hadn’t waned. In recent months, her appreciation had only increased due to the addition of two drool-worthy female firefighters named Jill and Taryn.
“How long are innings?” Rosalie asked, trying not to sound anxious.
“You got something else you want to watch?”
Rosalie gave a small, noncommittal shrug. After all the kindness Alex had extended to her, Rosalie didn’t want to deprive her of seeing the end of the baseball game.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“What do you want to watch?” Alex pressed.
Rosalie felt embarrassed for bringing it up. “You know that show Light My Fire?”
“Oh, yeah,” Alex said.
“It’s one of my guilty pleasures.”
“Why guilty?”
Rosalie gave another shrug. Even if Alex had been neutral when she’d outed herself, she didn’t want to divulge that she had a theory about Jill and Taryn being secretly in love. It seemed childish.
Alex looked at the clock, noting the show would be on in five minutes. She glanced anxiously back at the TV, tapping her feet on the carpeted floor and leaning forward on her knees again. Rosalie finished her dinner.
After an especially loud crack of a bat colliding with a ball, Alex sat up stiff and straight, fists clenched, and held there for a few seconds before she lifted her fists in a silent victory cheer.
“Did we win?”
Alex nodded. “Man, that was a great hit.”
Rosalie looked at the TV, wondering how one type of hit could be better than another.
“Okay, let’s catch up with the heroes on channel eleven,” Alex said, nodding toward Rosalie’s lap where the remote was lying.
Rosalie lifted it and changed the channel just in time to see the fadeout of the preceding show.
Rosalie tried not to let her body betray her excitement. Having Alex be privy to her enthusiasm over a TV show and two characters who weren’t even written as lesbians felt risky. Her attempt to play it cool felt like suffocating herself.
Alex, on the other hand, remained calm and quiet in her chair, slouched back with her knees parted, arms crossed over her chest, save for when she reached for a sip of water or adjusted her back against the chair.
When Jill and Taryn appeared on screen, Rosalie held her breath. She was always waiting for their meaningful gazes, their subtle touches, the subtext that fueled her fascination. Tara hadn’t understood when Rosalie insisted Jill and Taryn were secretly in love. She wondered if Alex saw it.
If Alex liked girls, maybe she would agree about Jill and Taryn. If she didn’t, Rosalie would feel even more foolish around her. So she said nothing, keenly aware of Alex’s presence as she muted her reactions to the happenings on screen.
Halfway through the show, Rosalie saw Alex’s shoulders tense. She looked over and saw goose bumps running up and down Alex’s arms as she held herself against shivers. Under the covers, Rosalie hadn’t realized how frigid the room had become. She sat up, leaving the bed to turn down the AC.
Alex looked over at her warily. “Sure you’re cool enough?”
Rosalie nodded. She found a sweatshirt in her suitcase and offered it to Alex, who eyed it for a moment.
“I’m pretty sweaty,” Alex said.
“We have washers here.”
Alex eyed it again before taking it. “Thanks,” she said.
Rosalie crawled back into the bed as Alex fitted the sweatshirt over her head and pulled it down, relaxing as she adjusted from the chill.
When the show finished, Rosalie realized she’d forgotten about the stray cat for the second night in a row. She’d been so focused on calling real estate agents the night before, she hadn’t thought about the cat until she walked from the office back to her room and saw it sitting on her doorstep. She’d greeted it, giving it a few loving strokes before opening a can of food.
“I need to feed the cat.” Rosalie sat up and moved to where she’d stashed the cans she’d bought.
“Cat?”
“A stray. I’ve been feeding him the last few nights.”
Alex stood and started cleaning up from the dinner she’d brought.
“You don’t have to go.” Rosalie realized her statement about feeding the cat could have been perceived as dismissive.
“I have to go check on my brother. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah,” Rosalie said, curious why Alex would have to check on her presumably adult brother. “I should call my dad and ask him about owls. I haven’t talked to him since I got here.”
Alex nodded. She took Rosalie’s plate to the sink to wash, but Rosalie insisted on doing them herself. She also insisted Alex take the leftovers.
Alex packed up the extra food and hovered near the door. “I know you’re only here for a little while, but if you want to come hang out with me and my friends sometime, you’re totally welcome.” She scratched her neck, looking sheepish for the first time since Rosalie had met her.
Rosalie smiled. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Alex gave a stiff nod, turning to leave. As she put her hand on the door, Rosalie realized she didn’t know when she’d see Alex next.
“Will you be back in the morning?”
Alex looked back at her, and Rosalie realized she needed to give Alex a reason to return.
“I need help finishing the fence. And probably a few other things around here.”
Alex smiled and gave another stiff nod. “Sure thing.”
Chapter Four
Extended Stay
It had been a long day of fruitless meetings with real estate agents while Alex worked on the pool filter and painted the fence, insisting Rosalie only help for short intervals after she’d hydrated to Alex’s satisfaction. Before Alex left, Rosalie reminded her about the doorbell and asked if Alex could do a general safety inspection of the property the next day. It seemed like something she should do, given that she was planning to call the insurance company to see if filling the pool would be worth the expense and maintenance.
Shelley came over an hour after Alex left. They were eating pizza in Rosalie’s room and talking about the latest Beyoncé album when Shelley tilted her head and frowned. She lifted her finger from her ginger ale can to quiet Rosalie.
“Did you hear that?”
Rosalie strained to
hear whatever Shelley was listening to. After a few seconds, she heard a scuffling, like tiny nails scratching into wood, followed by a squeak.
“It’s coming from under the sink,” Shelley said, her face shifting into a wince.
Hesitantly, Rosalie got up. She examined the cabinet under the sink before gingerly opening the door. Immediately, the scuffling intensified, and Rosalie saw a small gray rodent flash over a box of baking soda. She squealed, slamming the door shut. Shelley shrieked as Rosalie jumped away from the cabinet.
“It’s a mouse!”
Shelley was crouched on her chair, comically bunched up with her hands over her face. Rosalie didn’t have the dramatic reaction Shelley had had, but she wasn’t pleased. If there was one mouse in the hotel, there were probably more.
“Oh, my god, what are you gonna do?”
Rosalie shook her head, hands raised as though she wanted nothing to do with anything on the property.
“I can call Bobby if you want.”
Rosalie considered but knew she didn’t want Shelley’s deadbeat boyfriend coming into her room and going through her cabinets. She wanted someone quick and efficient. She pulled out her phone, wondering if she should be ashamed to call Alex about something as trivial as a mouse.
Alex answered after the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Rosalie said, knowing she didn’t need to introduce herself. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. Watching the game,” Alex said.
“Are we winning?” Rosalie asked, wanting to make polite conversation before asking for help.
“Depends on who you’re rooting for.” Rosalie could hear the smirk in Alex’s voice.
Rosalie let out a nervous attempt at a giggle before saying, “Um, I’m wondering if you know anything about mousetraps?” Her voice curled up at the end in the same way Shelley’s did. She cringed, hoping she didn’t sound ditzy.
“You got some little visitors?”
“One that I know of,” Rosalie said, eyeing the cabinet.
“They sell traps at the grocery store. You still got about twenty minutes before they close,” Alex said.
Rosalie knew the traps Alex was referring to. “The little wooden ones with the springs?” she asked, cringing further. She didn’t know if she could stomach disposing of used traps with dismembered mice in their clutches.
“Those are the ones.”
“Are there any other kinds?” Rosalie knew she sounded like a wimp, but dead rodents were almost worse than live ones.
“Not in town. Although...hold on.”
Rosalie heard rustling and figured Alex was moving around. It was quiet for twenty seconds.
Shelley looked at her with an inquisitive expression, and Rosalie shrugged.
“I’ve got some nicer traps here, if you want. They’re the plastic kind that keep everything contained. I can bring them over.”
Rosalie exhaled in relief. Alex always had the best solutions to the many problems the hotel presented her.
“That would be awesome.”
“Want me to come now?”
“Please.”
“I’m on my way.”
Alex hung up, and Rosalie lowered her phone.
“Who was that?” Shelley asked.
“Alex. She does maintenance and stuff for me. She knows more about this place than I do.”
“Oh.” Shelley seemed to retreat.
Rosalie gestured with her phone. “Do you know her?”
Shelley remained cool. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around.”
“Did you guys go to school together?”
“No. She’s, like, ten years older than me.”
“Oh.”
“Are you guys friends?”
Rosalie thought she detected a hint of disapproval, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Kind of. She helped me when I passed out the other day. She’s nice.”
“I guess,” Shelley said.
Rosalie frowned. Shelley was acting odd. “Is there something I should know about her?”
Shelley gave a shrug Rosalie knew was meant to intrigue her.
But Rosalie didn’t want to play into Shelley’s shift in demeanor, nor did she want any reason to distrust Alex. She turned her attention back to the cabinet. “She’s coming to take care of the mouse. That’s all I need to know about her right now.”
Shelley took a sip of her ginger ale and looked away. Rosalie flipped on the TV, filling the awkward silence Shelley seemed intent on prolonging.
Five minutes later, Rosalie heard Alex’s truck pull into the parking lot. A gentle knock sounded, and Rosalie got up to open the door. Alex grinned at Rosalie, stepping inside, then looking surprised to see Shelley.
“Hey, Shelley,” she said, giving a polite nod.
“Hey.” Shelley became as hard to read as Alex usually was.
It was quiet before Alex said, “Where’s this mouse?”
Rosalie pointed to the cabinet.
Alex held up a small box and a jar of peanut butter. She unwrapped the box, producing a small plastic contraption big enough to conceal a mouse.
“What’s the peanut butter for?” Shelley asked, frowning.
“Mice go crazy for it,” Alex said with a wry grin. “Better than cheese in these things.” She tapped the plastic mousetrap.
Rosalie retrieved a knife and watched as Alex put a small amount of peanut butter into the trap, then set it.
Rosalie studied Shelley, who in turn studied Alex. Shelley wasn’t looking at Alex in disapproval, but she wasn’t as appreciative as Rosalie would have expected her to be to someone volunteering to exterminate a mouse. Rosalie was perplexed by it.
Alex quickly opened the cabinet, sliding the trap inside. “Now you wait for the snap,” she said, dusting off her hands.
“The snap?”
“You’ll hear it go off when the mouse goes in for the peanut butter.”
“I don’t want to hear that!” Rosalie said, covering her mouth in horror.
Alex smirked, and Rosalie felt like a wimp. “It’s either that or let the mouse invite all his buddies to come live with him.”
“How do you know it’s a him?” Rosalie asked, hoping to distract Alex from her squeamishness with humor.
“Yeah, how do you know it’s a him?” Shelley echoed.
Alex glanced between Rosalie and Shelley and let out a sigh. “Maybe it’s a lady mouse, but either way, it’s gonna be a dead mouse soon.”
“Is the snap loud?”
Alex put her hands on her hips, amused by Rosalie’s squeamishness. “It’s pretty loud.”
Rosalie groaned, anxiety rising as she anticipated the snap of the trap. “I can’t be in here,” Rosalie whined. “That’s like in school when you know a fire drill is about to happen...”
Alex kept grinning. “Then you gotta find somewhere else to go.”
“Let’s go sit in the lobby,” Rosalie said, glancing at Shelley. “I should be in there anyway.”
Shelley nodded and got out of her chair, eager to get away from the impending snap of the mousetrap.
“Want to join us?” Rosalie asked Alex.
Alex glanced between Shelley and Rosalie. “I think I’m gonna get back to the game.”
“Oh, right,” Rosalie said. She hadn’t put two and two together; Alex was missing some kind of sports game to assist her with her mouse problem. “Thanks so much.”
Alex pointed to the cabinet. “After the trap goes off, a little red indicator will pop up on the top. It might tip over. Just reach in there and take the trap out and throw it in the garbage.”
“Can I leave it in there as a warning to other mice?”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Alex said, amused. “It will start to smell and attract bugs after a day or two.”
Rosalie groaned. “I hate mice so much.”
“I should probably check around some of the other rooms for evidence of mice tomorrow,” Alex said. “Too bad there aren’t any owls we co
uld entice to come live nearby.”
Shelley frowned, confused as to why Alex was talking about owls.
“Owls are great rodent control,” Rosalie explained. “My dad is, like, super into owls right now.”
Shelley gave a skeptical and unimpressed nod, and Alex turned toward the door. “I’ll let you guys get back to your pizza.”
“Do you want a slice?” Rosalie offered.
“I’m good.” Alex seemed eager to leave. “Good night.”
“Good ni—” Rosalie called after her, the word getting cut in half by the door.
Rosalie was stunned.
“Geez, what’s her deal?” Shelley said, pulling a face.
Rosalie shrugged, wondering if Alex’s abrupt exit had something to do with Shelley. It was hard to believe the gentle, concerned person who had taken care of her the day before had just left in a rush after coming over so willingly. But perhaps Alex was mercurial.
Rosalie tried not to let Alex’s exit faze her as she turned back to Shelley, gesturing toward the pizza box as she suggested they move to the lobby.
An hour after Shelley left, Rosalie busied herself on her computer in the lobby, telling herself she was doing work while checking Tara’s Facebook page again and wondering if she should call as a way to avoid going back to her room to await the snap of the mousetrap. She had almost decided she should call when the door to the lobby opened. Expecting a disgruntled guest, she straightened up.
Instead, she saw Alex walking in with her long, confident stride. There was no evidence of anger or frustration on her face, as Rosalie had feared after her abrupt exit.
“Hey,” Rosalie said, giving Alex an inquisitive smile.
“What are you doing in here so late?” Alex asked, folding her arms and leaning onto the counter.
“Just…some work.” Rosalie nodded toward her computer.
Alex smirked, jerking her head in the direction of Rosalie’s room. “So you’re not avoiding Señor Raton back there?”
“Señorita Raton is offended by your insistence she’s a man,” Rosalie said, avoiding eye contact to prolong the joke.
Alex chuckled, then looked at Rosalie for a moment before she stood up from the counter. “Okay, this is ridiculous. Come on.” She walked around the counter and grasped Rosalie’s elbow.
Hearts Inn Page 8
