Names I Call My Sister Page 9

  “I’ll say.” I hoped I sounded normal. I craved normalcy. Instead, I got Susu. Bad karma. “She’s a maniac. I’ve got my hands full trying to get her back home.”

  “Why doesn’t her husband come to get her?” He lifted a hand. “No, you don’t have to answer that. He doesn’t want her back. I know I wouldn’t.”

  “Back off, cabrón. Who are you to say what Carl wants and doesn’t want? It just so happens that they are very much in love. She’s having an—episode—that’s all.”

  No one dissed my big sister.

  “An episode? Running away from your family to Las Vegas with a college kid is an episode?” He looked and sounded incredulous. “So in your family, what’s full-fledged lunacy look like?”

  I jumped up and made a fist.

  “Never mind. I’m looking at it. So all that trash talk about you was just that. Trash.” He shook his head. “I knew it. No wonder you looked so crazy—you were trying to keep up with your sister.”

  I was overwhelmed by a warm wave of indignation. “There’s no keeping up with her.”

  “You and I are in the same boat, aren’t we? Trying to corral our runaway sibs.”

  “Yeah. Maybe we should join forces.” I stared at the bathroom light, thinking of Susu’s erratic behavior. How could she think that Carl would ever forgive her for what she did?

  I thought of that gun cabinet again, and felt a twinge of fear. Maybe she’d drive him over the edge. Maybe he’d come out here and shoot us both. Of course, he’d have to drive, and maybe he’d cool down before he got here.

  I turned to Chris, who was staring at me as if I’d said something brilliant. “What?”

  “I think you’re right. We should join forces.”

  “Did I say that last, or did you?”

  “You did. I’m sorry, it’s late and you were ready for bed.” His eyes trailed down my body, checking out my so-called sleep gear. “Unless you want me to stay?”

  “Dream on. I’ll meet you at eight in the lobby bistro where I saw you this morning.”

  Guys. They always think that if they see it, they can have it. I guess that’s the allure of strip clubs, where every ugly Joe can imagine he can go home with a dancer.

  I went to sleep alone, and dreamed that Bernardo and Chris were boxing while I changed diapers and called out, “What about me?” Talk about your stress dreams.

  Chapter 6

  The faux cobblestone street by the lobby was full of angry old ladies. I stood in line behind ten of them, waiting to get into the Ile St. Louis. I could see a flustered black-uniformed employee just inside the iron gates, waving his hands hysterically. Bad sign.

  “This place is the pits,” one of women said. “I’m going to write and complain. I paid a lot for this package. We were supposed to be seated at eight.”

  “You know Lois Cathcart? Her pacemaker failed. She’s in the hospital.” The woman she was speaking to was apparently on a different channel.

  “Mercy. Did anyone call her husband?” The first old lady clutched a cup to her bosom.

  I thought it was a coffee refill, but then realized that the cup was full of nickels. Slot fodder.

  I’d come down early to wait for Chris, afraid that I’d miss him and he’d do something crazy like try to track down Rod alone. I didn’t trust Susu. She might run again, or worse. Maybe I’d watched too many episodes of Law and Order.

  “I almost missed you in this crowd.”

  I turned around, relieved to find Chris behind me. “I got here early.”

  He eyed the group surrounding us. “Not early enough.”

  The tense restaurant employee approached the gate, and the silver-haired crowd surged forward, taking me with them. There must have been fifty of them, and they were crying out angrily.

  “When are we going to eat?” an old lady said.

  “I can’t stand up for this long,” another put in. “My hip is killing me.”

  The man put his arms up. I think he meant to quiet them, but it looked a lot like surrender.

  “Ladies, we’ve had a little setback, but I assure you, you’ll all be seated within the hour.”

  “An hour? He expects this granny lynch mob to wait an hour?” I adjusted the shoulder strap of my purse. “I can take care of this. I know what to do.”

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Let’s grab a cup of coffee at the boulangerie and go. We don’t have time to wait for a table.”

  I looked him up and down. “What’s your hurry? It’s daylight, and Susu and Rod are sleeping it off, like happy little vampires. We’ve got all day.”

  My attention went back to the unhappy guy at the center of the firestorm. I worked my way to the front of the crowd, unsuccessfully trying to shield my sandaled toes from orthopedic shoes and rubber-tipped walkers.

  When I reached the gate, I called out to the man. He was staring into the crowd. Behind him several uniformed women stood silently. The café was empty except for a few folks eating breakfast. The bleary ones had probably been at the machines all night. The others looked like business people.

  I motioned to one of the women. “I can help. Let me in.”

  She opened the gate a little and I slipped through and immediately grabbed the man by the elbow and hauled him around a corner.

  “Are you insane? Why don’t you let them in? They need to sit down.”

  “I can’t. There’s not enough room for them in the café. Clarice didn’t show up this morning and there’s no record of their breakfast arrangement.”

  I looked around. “There isn’t room here for fifty.”

  “Seventy-five,” he corrected. “They were supposed to sit in the restaurant next door, but it wasn’t finalized. It’s our fault, but without Clarice—”

  “Forget Clarice. Have the servers set places next door for seventy-five. Order enough café au lait and hot tea for all of them. Bring in croissants and orange juice and forget all the hot food. You can make it up to them at lunch. Give them buffet tickets or something.”

  “Croissants. I don’t think we have enough.”

  “Get them from the boulangerie. They do bulk orders, right?”

  “Yes, they cater. We can do that.” Relieved, he hurried off, snapping his fingers at the servers.

  I grabbed one of them before she followed the others. “Open the restaurant and seat the group while you set the tables. I’m going to get them some entertainment.”

  I slipped back out. I cleared my throat and put on my flight attendant voice, clear and loud enough to be heard by everyone on the floor. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me I’ll get you situated.” I raised a hand so they could see it. “Follow my hand, please.”

  Looking like a geriatric version of Madeline’s crocodile line, I led them down the cobblestones to the restaurant. The server had already opened the quaint arched doorway, and the women streamed through, their anger turned to excited chattering.

  I left them to it and ran down the street to the shops where I’d seen the clown. He was there, juggling soft beanbags for a bored two-year-old.

  “Excuse me? Can I borrow you?”

  My breath caught when I saw him up close. He was perfect. Under the clown makeup he was a good-looking guy, and his broad shoulders and muscular chest did wonders for the goofy striped T-shirt. They didn’t have clowns like this at my birthday parties.

  “Pardon?” His French accent was convincing.

  “I have a group of elderly ladies who are kind of irritated because their meal wasn’t waiting for them. Do you know any songs and jokes? Can you do an older crowd?”

  He grinned. “Mais, oui.”

  “Fabulous. Follow me.” I looked at the kid, who had picked his nose and was examining the result on his fingertip. His mother came out of the shop and reached her hand down for him. He put it, boogie and all, in hers.

  I shuddered and hurried back to the restaurant, the clown at my heels.

  “I am Sebastien.”

  “Anita. Are you really French?”
I couldn’t believe it. This place was like a huge stage set. Beautiful, but unreal. I figured everyone was from around there.

  “Yes, from New Jersey.”

  Of course.

  I motioned him through the arch and he got right to work. Within seconds the old ladies’ attention was riveted on the handsome young performer’s agile hands and quick wit.

  The servers were almost done setting the tables, and others had started serving juice. The women seemed happy now and were teasing each other as the clown made mildly suggestive jokes as he juggled.

  The hapless dude from earlier came to stand next to me. “I had champagne brought in, too, as an apology for the wait.”

  We stepped aside to allow a woman by with a tray of champagne flutes.

  “Brilliant. I’m Anita Suarez, by the way.”

  “Ed Thompson, assistant café manager.” We shook hands. “So, are you from corporate?”

  “No, I’m a guest.” And unemployed, too.

  His brows rose. “You must be in the business, though. I really appreciate what you did. We’re usually on the ball, but today everything fell apart.”

  “It happens.” I patted his arm. “Call me if you need more help.” I repeated my name. He could call the front desk to get a message to me. I spotted Chris leaning against the fake stucco wall across the street and walked over to him.

  “Sorry I abandoned you.”

  “Don’t be. I’m impressed.” He pointed through the archway with a quick upturn of his chin. “You were a pro.”

  “It’s a compulsion. I must have been a sheepdog in a previous life. I can’t stand to see lost herds and bewildered flocks.”

  “I ordered breakfast for us.”

  “I need some.” I followed him back to the Ile St. Louis, where the iron gates were now thrown open. Over coffee and buttery croissants I told him that I thought Susu and Rod were on the fourth floor.

  “So we knock on all the doors?” he asked.

  “I tried that. I won’t go into what I saw.”

  He grinned. “I’ll bet. As I see it, we have two options. We can bribe housekeeping to tell us, or at least to keep their eyes out on who’s where. We can also hang out at the elevators and catch them coming down the hall.”

  “The stairs are on the opposite side of the building.”

  “That’s the problem with solution number two. The problem with solution number one is that we might have an incorruptible staff that won’t take a bribe.”

  “Right. Like that’s going to happen.”

  After breakfast, which I let him pay for, he went up to the fourth floor and I went to make friends in housekeeping.

  The back end of the casino, like all large hotels, was a warren of utilitarian concrete areas. I found a woman uniformed like the ones I’d seen cleaning on my floor. Her hair was expertly colored and she wore well-applied makeup. I smiled and walked as if I worked here, keeping my torso turned so she couldn’t see that I wasn’t wearing a security pass. The laundry was ahead. I could hear the roar of the dryers and tumblers.

  Another maid came out, prepping her cart with folded linen. This one was younger.

  “Do you work upstairs?” I asked her.

  I got a blank look, so I repeated the question in Spanish.

  “Si.”

  “Can I ask you for a favor? It’s my sister Susan’s birthday and I need to leave a present on her bed.”

  She put her fist on her hips and looked at me skeptically. “How did you get back here?”

  “I walked. I just want to leave a teddy bear on my sister’s pillow. Can you tell me who works the fourth floor?”

  “I do, today.” She was still frowning. This wasn’t going to be easy. “You just walked back here?”

  “Yes, why?”

  She pointed up at the tall ceiling. I looked at what she was pointing at. A camera.

  Moments later a security guard came through, looking around. He spotted me and the maid slipped away silently.

  “Miss, are you a guest here?”

  “Yes, sir.” I gave him my high-watt flight attendant smile.

  “May I see your room key?” I rummaged in my purse and produced my key card.

  He examined it carefully, then handed it back. “The housekeeping area is for employees only. I’ll escort you out.”

  “I just wanted to put a teddy bear on my sister’s pillow, but I’m not sure where her room is. It’s a surprise.”

  “Uh-huh.” He walked beside me, careful not to touch me. I wasn’t in trouble, yet.

  “I guess you get a lot of odd requests.”

  He ushered me through the door and into the faux Parisian gaiety. “You wouldn’t believe. I suggest you give your teddy bear to the front desk. They’ll take care of it.”

  He said “teddy bear” as if he didn’t believe it existed. The nerve.

  Sebastien the clown walked by. “Thank you, Anita. I think I’ll be working in the restaurant from now on.”

  “Really? That’s great.”

  The security guard looked at the clown. “You know her?”

  “Yes, she set up the restaurant this morning for the old ladies. They tipped big.” He winked and went through the Employees Only door.

  The guard looked confused. “You work here?”

  “Not yet.” I smiled and went up to my room, hoping to catch another housekeeping cart. No luck, but there was a message from Susu. She wanted to meet with me poolside at ten. I glanced at my watch and hurried back out.

  If this went well, I’d have her on the nine o’clock to Atlanta.

  The pool was on the roof, so I took the elevator up. The doors opened onto paradise. A huge garden surrounded the enormous circular pool, which wasn’t crowded this early in the morning. I found Susu quickly. She was facedown on a massage table, having a poolside massage at the base of the Eiffel Tower.

  “Here I am,” I said gaily.

  The woman who was digging into Susu’s neck smiled up at me and continued her work.

  “Hi, Anita.” Susu sounded blissed out. “Jealous?”

  “Oh, yeah. I want to put my hands around your neck, too.”

  She snorted into her crossed arms. “I had the best time last night. We should go out together more often.”

  “Running into you at a dance club is not going out together.”

  She lifted her head and gave me a look, rolling her eyes up toward the masseuse behind her.

  “Like she hasn’t heard it all.” I smiled at the woman. “Haven’t you?”

  “You wouldn’t believe.” The masseuse gave a short laugh.

  “That’s exactly what a security guard just told me downstairs. You need to go home, Susu.”

  “You sound like a broken record, Anita. I’m enjoying myself. I feel so alive.”

  “Then why are you acting like you have a death wish?”

  “Don’t be such a drama queen. Death wish. Carl wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “How about Carl? Think he’s hurt?”

  This time when she lifted her head her eyes were blazing. She’d lost the sleepy, happy look.

  “Carl is getting a taste of what I had. Abandoned with two kids and an ugly life.”

  “Ugly? A mansion in the suburbs, a new car, and yoga lessons? Friends who live on the river? A husband who gives you anything you want? Yeah, the tragedy of it makes me weep.”

  “I’m trapped, Anita. You don’t understand. You’re free to do whatever you want. You’re beautiful, and you travel, and you have lots of boyfriends. I feel ugly and used.”

  “Girl, there’s nothing to be jealous of. I traveled because it was my job. It’s hard to work on a plane and not end up somewhere else. And I was a flight attendant. That’s kind of like being a waitress and bouncer at thirty-five thousand feet.”

  “But you loved it.”

  “I sure did. I am going to miss it every day of my life. Time to move on, though. I’m unemployed, and I don’t have Carl paying my bills.” Well, actually he was, but Sus
u didn’t know that.

  Susu had her head back in her arms as the masseuse worked on her shoulders. “I’m tired of Rod. How do you get rid of a guy?”

  Relief swirled around me like a cooling breeze. “You let him down easy. You don’t want to make a big scene, you know? So say something like, ‘I have to go home.’ It should be easy.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to go home. I love this place. I just want to ditch Rod. He’s such a kid. And he thinks he knows everything.” She looked up at me and smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile “I kind of like that guy you were dancing with. Very sexy. Rod’s going back to school, and then I’m moving in with you.”

  I think my mouth actually dropped open, like in a cartoon. “With me?”

  Bernardo would be so disappointed. And I had my eyes on hunky Chris, too. Having my messy sister with me would seriously damage my privacy, and my nerves. The only person who would be pleased with the arrangement was Carl.

  “What’s the matter, Anita? Don’t like surprises? If you want to live with me in Atlanta, the least you could do is let me stay with you here in Vegas. We could go clubbing together. It’ll be fun, like when we were in high school.”

  “We never hung out in high school. You were always at chess club and I was at cheerleading.”

  Her smile grew forced. “See? I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  I fished my key out of my pocket and put it on the table next to her elbow. “Room 752. Put your stuff away. Don’t make a mess. And don’t tell Junior where you are. I don’t want weeping boyfriends at my door.”

  I got another card from the front desk, then called Chris from my room and told him about the latest development. He called me back five minutes later.

  “So she’s not going home?”

  “No. I don’t know whether to be happy or depressed. At least the Rod part of it is over with.” And if Rod went home, Chris would probably leave, too. My day was getting worse by the minute.

  “Want to have dinner tonight?”

  “Yes. Susu can find her own fun. Is there a Thai place around here? I’m craving it.”