He was right. If she’d met Dr. Yergunson outside the hotel and they’d come in without stopping to get Ms. Rhodes checked in or get her a key, it was entirely possible the woman had arrived. These things happened. All kinds of things were forever happening at the Azur Regent. Didn’t make me any less curious.
But since it was another slow slow day, I figured I could maybe take a look around, ensure Ms. Rhodes made it. Not sure why I cared so much. If we’d been busy, I wouldn’t have even given Charlene Rhodes and Dr. Yergunson and their strange reservation much thought. I’d have let it go the instant I finished with Dr. Yergunson. This is what happens when you leave someone like me with too much time to think.
Shanda and I had to do a few check-ins that morning, a small group of women with three rooms in a block, a man here on business, and a lovely older person who was here for a small conference of some kind. Again, not too many people. The checkouts had been just as easy according to Miguel. Tara, the day manager, came out to chat after I’d been on the desk for about an hour. Which was unusual and a sign she wasn’t particularly busy either. We all gossiped about how our former day manager’s legal issues had made the news circuit again. And when Benjamin stopped at the desk to chat, we ended up talking about possible events we could do over the summer that were similar to the holiday cookie competition that had gotten that ex-manager into so much trouble.
As we were all chatting, I spotted Dr. Yergunson leaving the hotel. She walked swiftly through the lobby, not even glancing our way. She still had that put together look, but a more formal version of it today in a pants suit. She was out the door before I could think to ask after her companion. Missed opportunity. But what could you do.
It also occurred to me that she looked a little different today. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe the hairstyle? Something about her. But she’d hurried through the lobby so quickly, I figured I was imagining it. Sleep deprivation will do that to you.
Midway through my shift, I got a call from Becky, which Shanda was nice enough to let me take in the breakroom.
“Lilith has cholera. I’m positive. I looked it up. She’s got all the symptoms.”
Sighing, I collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs at one of the small round tables and rubbed a hand over my face. “Lilith doesn’t have cholera.”
“You’re not a doctor,” Becky pointed out. “The symptoms match.”
“Has she been near contaminated water recently? You been letting her hang out at the docks?”
“Shut up. How can you say that to me when my baby is so sick?”
Another long sigh as I reached for my patience. I was, in general, a pretty patient person. One of the reasons I was so good at my job was because I could remain professional with even the most difficult guest and still treat them courteously. But there’s a reason sleep deprivation is considered torture under the Geneva Convention, and I hadn’t been this sleep deprived since right after Lilith was born and I was helping Becky handle the night shifts.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just tired. Lilith is fine. She doesn’t have cholera. She had a cold and she’s almost over it.”
“She is hacking up a lung as we speak.”
Since I could hear Lilith gurgling in the background and the sound of one of her favorite cartoons on, I knew that to be a lie. “Becky…”
“She was.”
“Hacking up a lung isn’t a symptom of cholera.” I only knew the symptoms of cholera because we’d had this discussion already. Twice.
“Well, it’s something. And she has diarrhea.”
“She’s a baby who’s just been sick. And she doesn’t eat solid food. Is she still drinking?”
That actually had been a worry in the first few days because between the fever and the stuffy nose, Lilith had had trouble drinking. But she was back to sucking down bottles like they were going out of style, so unless that had changed, I wasn’t worried about a little watery poop. And neither was the pediatrician. Because we’d called her about this already. Twice.
I tried listening to more dire symptoms and possible diseases that Lilith might have until she actually did cough a little in the background before bursting into giggles. Becky panicked at the cough and hung up on me just as the baby giggles got started. Shame. I loved listening to Lilith giggle.
Benjamin, passing through the breakroom, gave me a look and shook his head. “You should stay here in one of the free rooms tonight. Get a good night sleep so you can keep up with Becky’s paranoia.”
“Not a bad idea. Except she’d probably just spend all night calling to tell me Lilith had developed new horrible symptoms like, her cheeks were pinker, or her toes got cuter or something.”
Benjamin laughed. “You want a coffee from the bodega? I’m heading across.”
“I’d be eternally in your debt.” The coffee in the breakroom was okay, one of those individual pack things so you could have what you wanted—Tara had gotten us that after she took over as day manager. But there was nothing quite as fortifying as the coffee from the Oligante’s bodega. No idea what they put it in. Worth every penny, whatever it was.
I headed back out to the front desk considering what Benjamin had said. I could stay here. We all had an employee discount for the rooms—usually used for visiting family members or something like that—and there were a lot of available rooms at the moment, so I wouldn’t be dislodging a potential guest paying full price. Even last-minute walk-ins looking for a room would still have plenty of choice.
If I wanted to keep my patience with Becky and do my job without biting the head off a guest, I really did need to get some more sleep. I was hesitant to leave Becky home alone to panic, so maybe not tonight. But if she kept me up half the night again even though Lilith was clearly getting better, then I’d see if I could book into a room tomorrow night.
The bodega coffee gave me an afternoon boost and enabled me to get through my shift without falling asleep or yelling at anyone. By the time I was ready to head out, I was back to thinking about Charlene Rhodes, who, as far as I could tell, never did show up. I was coming back out of the breakroom with my stuff, ready to head home, when I saw Dr. Yergunson passing through the lobby again. She’d changed sometime during the day from the pantsuit she’d had on earlier into a skirt and silk blouse that looked lovely and relaxed under her thick white winter coat. Her hair was down now too, a style that framed her face and gave her a slightly different look. But it suited her.
I hadn’t seen her come back to the hotel and leave again, but between my regular break and the three calls from Becky I’d had to take, that wasn’t surprising.
I paused as she neared and smiled. “Good evening, Dr. Yergunson. Did your friend ever arrive?”
She blinked at me a minute, as if she wasn’t sure who I was, which happened a lot if I wasn’t behind the reception desk. I had my coat on, too, so my uniform wasn’t obvious. After a brief hesitation, though, she returned my smile and said, “I’m afraid not. Her flight was cancelled. Weather.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. This time of year can be tough on air travel.”
“Yes. Thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome. Just let us know when she does arrive and we’ll be sure to get her a key.”
“Not sure she’s coming now,” Dr. Yergunson said. “Depends on if she can get another flight.”
“Of course. I hope you can enjoy your trip even without your friend.”
“Thank you. Again.”
She looked around the lobby, like she was looking for a way out of the conversation. I recognized that look. Some people aren’t the chatty type. I am, which is great for my job, but I’ve also learned how to give space to those who don’t like casual small talk.
“Have a nice evening,” I said and headed toward the lobby door.
“Thank you.” Dr. Yergunson said again, rushing to the elevators.
