How We Got Here
by Griffelkin
Disclaimer: I do not own The Suite Life with Zack and Cody, and unfortunately, I don't own Muriel either.
Chapter Four.
Carey's P.O.V.
I put the forms on the desk and sat down and cried. This was so much more than I could have dreamed of. I heard a knock at the door and in came a bell hop. He was young, olive-skinned, with lots of teeth.
"My name is Esteban," He said. "Mr. Moseby told me that you have been hired as a cabaret singer, and will be moving into the hotel. He gave me the key to your suite and I will be taking you to it when you finish those forms. In the meantime, here is the room service menu so that you can have lunch as Mr. Moseby's guest. Please write down your choice, and I will be back in a few minutes. Why are you crying?"
"Esteban," I said. "You have no idea what I've been through since my divorce. This job is more than I could hope for."
He handed me his hanky. "I'll be right back," he said.
I looked at the menu and decided on a turkey and swiss on rye with mayo and a bottled water. Then, I attacked the forms with a passion. Esteban returned and took my lunch order while I was at it.
Lunch came and I ate like I had been starving for a week. After lunch I gathered the forms and went out to give them to Mr. Moseby at the desk. He accepted the forms and asked for my driver's license and social security card.
"Just a formality. I have to make copies of these to prove that you're in the country legally," Moseby said.
As he went back into his office to make the copies, I looked around and saw Esteban and London at the candy counter talking to the blond girl and looking in my direction. Then, Mr. Moseby came out of his office and returned my ID and hit the bell on the front desk three times. Esteban came running over with a smile on his face.
"Esteban, would you take Mrs. Martin up to her suite and then come right back? I have other things for you to do," Mr. Moseby said.
"Yes, sir."
We walked over to the elevator and when we entered, he pushed the button for the 23rd floor.
"Gosh," I said. "I hope I don't get a nose bleed up that high." He laughed. When the elevator stopped, we turned left and past two doors. At the third door, he took out a security card from his pocket and ran it through the slot to open the door. When he flicked the switch, I walked in behind him and stood there.
"Carey, please breathe before you pass out and more crying. Once is enough," he said. H e handed me the key card and said, "Now I must go downstairs or else Mr. Moseby will yell at me. Please turn the key in at the desk and see Mr. Moseby before you leave." Then, he left.
To the left of the door was a small kitchen with a sink, stove, microwave, and refrigerator. In front of that was a table with four chairs. To the right of the table was a door. I opened it and found the bathroom. Granite floor, whirlpool spa tub trimmed in granite going to the ceiling. Granite shower stall with multiple adjustable heads at various heights. The opposite wall had double sinks and the commode had glass brick partitions for privacy. This is a luxury hotel.
Next to the room was another door. It was the bedroom. It had a queen sized bed. I made a mental note to ask Mr. Moseby to replace it with twin beds. Outside the bedroom was a living room with two armchairs and a table lamp between them. The couch in front of the table was opposite a shelf unit with a 32 inch plasma TV. Windows on the other side of the wall unit and a cocktail table completed the furniture. I sat on the couch and noted that it was a pull-out. I had just found my bedroom. Well, I thought, it wasn't big but it would do perfectly. I could finally get the boys out of that hell hole.
I heard a knock at the door and looked up to see the candy counter girl standing in the doorway with a big smile on her face.
"Please come in," I said.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Martin," she said. "I hear that you are the new attraction in the lounge. London told me about your audition and I can't wait to hear you sing. Oh, my name's Maddie by the way. If you need to know anything, just ask me, London, or Esteban. If you need help with anything, one of us is usually always here."
"Please call me Carey," I said. "And, now that you mention it, there is something. Do you babysit?"
"Yes. You have children?"
"Twin boys. Twelve years old."
"If I'm free, I'll be happy to help out. Mr Moseby asked me to remind you not to leave before he has a chance to work out a schedule for you."
"Thanks," I said. "I'm ready to go now." I went around turning off lights. I closed the door to make sure that it was locked, then we took the elevator to the lobby. At the desk, I turned in the key. As I saw Mr. Moseby talking to a guest, I sat on one of the couches waiting for him to be free.
This left me with time to think. Sometimes everything goes wrong and you lose your faith. You think that there's no God. Then a day like today comes along and you can't understand how you could have doubted. Thank you God.
I looked up and Mr. Moseby was standing in front of me.
"Carey," he said. "Let's go back to my office so that we can iron out our transition. I am hoping that we can have you up and running by next Friday. This will give you ten days to get ready.
"We start tomorrow," he continued. "The photographer will be here to take publicity shots for the press release, the window signs, and the lobby display. Dress accordingly. I will also have your credit card for the clothing allowance so you can start getting your wardrobe ready. Tomorrow I will see what we can do to get up a schedule for rehearsal time with the band and choose a song list."
"One last thing," he said. "I went over your forms and I couldn't help but notice that you listed three dependents on your W4 form. You have children?"
"Two boys—twins," I said. "Twelve years old. Which reminds me, could you possibly have the queen bed changed to two twin beds?"
"No problem, I'll have Arwin see to it," he said. "These boys. I hope that they are well-behaved; I won't have them disturbing the guests."
"Don't worry Mr. Moseby. I'll control them," I said with trepidation.
I thanked Mr. Moseby again and went out the main door. The doorman came up to me.
"Can I get you a cab, Mrs. Martin?"
"Yes, please," I said. "How do you know my name?"
"The way Moseby is running around telling everyone who will listen about the shrewd deal he made in hiring a cabaret singer, it spread like wildfire throughout the hotel," he said. "My name is Ralph, by the way." A cab pulled up to the front and he escorted me down the steps and into the cab. I thanked him and gave the driver the address. I sat back and for the first time since I got up, let my mind go blank.
A/N: To all those who were kind enough to send reviews, thank you. It is heartening to read that your time has not been completely wasted. The tone of these reviews were all very upbeat. However, I find it difficult to believe that there isn't anybody out there who doesn't have his/her Zippo lighter ready to flame me. I welcome all reviews.