TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT MIRROR #romance

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 “Alex. Can you tell me how long Mrs. Anne Roberts is staying?”

The young man at the front desk smiled. “For you, Maggie, anything.” He flipped through a large book. “She’s here for two months.”

“Thanks. That’s great news.”

“You have dealings with her?” He knitted his brows.

“Just helped her with her baby. Thought I might look in on her when I have time and see if she needs anything.”

“That’s the spirit, Maggie,” Mr. Vane said, as he came around the corner. “Wish we had more employees like you.”

Maggie finished the early morning chores, then headed for the top floor. As she sauntered down the hall, a soft voice called her name.

“Maggie?” Turning, she spied Anne Roberts in the doorway, motioning.

“He’s sleeping,” she whispered. “Thought you might like to see him when he’s calm and cute.”

Maggie peeked in at the infant. “He’s beautiful”

“His name is Penn. After his grandfather.”

“Perfect. Unusual name for an unusual boy.”

“His father is closing a deal, so Penn and I are alone.”

“I’m around if you need me, missus.”

Anne patted her shoulder. “Thank you. That’s very comforting. You’re much more help than Mr. Roberts.”

“My pleasure, missus.” The littl­e boy had won her heart in an instant. Happiness flowed through her as she leaned against the door jamb.

Maggie spent her days making beds, cleaning toilets, scrubbing bathrooms. Every day at two she stopped by the Roberts' suite. Anne would prop her baby on the maid’s lap and open a book. 

Little Penn trained his blue eyes on her, studying her face as she read. Meanwhile, his mother would steal into the master bedroom for an afternoon rendezvous with her husband.

Maggie wondered if she’d ever feel passion again. With her days spent in exhausting work, mostly in the company of women, she had little opportunity or energy to meet a man.

The Roberts’ were her dream couple. Mr. Roberts appeared to be madly in love with his wife. He’d bring her candy, flowers and expensive gifts when he arrived.

When Maggie found the cart from their meal in the hall in the morning, she figured they’d been dining in their room. She’d pretend to taste the food and wine as she wheeled the cart to the service elevator. 

At three, she’d put the sleeping baby down, pick up the twenty dollars left on the dresser by the mirror and tiptoe out, leaving the lovers behind closed doors.

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES!

Welcome! This week we have a picture prompt, and a 300-word limit. Check out this next episode of Maggie's Story. Don't forget to scroll down to return to the other stories on Tuesday Tales. Thanks for coming! 

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At the hotel, Maggie had mastered the art of cleaning up while remaining invisible. One day, while she was returning with her load of dirty linens, she heard a baby crying. The door to the hotel room was cracked open.

Peeking inside, she saw a beautiful blonde woman, holding an infant and walking to and fro while he wailed. Her eyes, full of tears, connected with Maggie’s.

Crap! Am I going to get in trouble? A shiver of fear shot up her spine. I can’t afford to lose this job. The door opened wider.

“Wait,” said a trembling voice. “Do you know anything about children?” The woman stuck her head out the door. By now, a few tears ran down her cheeks.

“Six younger brothers and sisters, so I guess you could say I do,” Maggie replied.

“Please help me. I don’t know what he wants.”

Fearful of overstepping her boundaries, Maggie crossed the threshold of the suite. The chambermaid reminded herself what her boss had said. The guest comes first. Whatever they want, we provide.

The woman handed over the child. He stopped wailing. His little face was red from crying. Maggie spoke to him in a soft voice and rubbed his back. The child gave forth with a loud burb.

“That’s all he needed? I’ll take him. Thank you.” The woman pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and pressed it into Maggie’s hand.

“No need…”

“Please. I insist.”

Maggie nodded, grateful for the cash.

“My name’s Anne Roberts,” she said, holding out her free hand.

“Maggie. How old is he?”

“About eight months.” The baby gurgled. “Thank you, I think I can handle him now.” The door closed.

Pain shot through Maggie. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. He’s about the age mine woulda been.  

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "TALL" - MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES

Welcome! This week the prompt is "tall". We're continuing with Maggie's Story. Scroll down for the link to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by!

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Maggie made a face when Burt shoved a mug of steaming hot coffee at her at 5 a.m.“Tea drinker, Burt,” she managed to mumble.“Coffee’s the drink here, girl. Get used to it. It’ll jumpstart your day. Tomorrow you can make it.”“But I don’t know how.”“You’ll learn. Like you’ll learn everything else here. Get used to it, Maggie. New York is your new home.”

She didn’t argue with him. He’s right. Stubborn anger rose in her chest. She missed her old ways, England, her friends and the familiar life she’d led. She didn’t ask to come to New York City. Noisy, dirty, overflowing with pushy people who would mow her down on the sidewalk.

I’m gonna find me a British gent and be a fine lady. She needed a dream to cling to, one to keep her going. Every morning on the train, she’d listen for a familiar accent. Didn’t know exactly what she’d do if she heard a male voice speaking British English. If it ever happened, she’d figure it out.

  Maggie and Burt traveled to the hotel together every morning. After three weeks, she still wasn’t used to getting up at five. They walked to the subway together in silence, Maggie not awake enough to talk or listen.
  

The work at the hotel was hard. She lifted heavy bundles and carted piles and piles of sheets and towels. And it could be disgusting, too. Certain she’d never get over what people did to hotel rooms or what they left behind. Emptying waste baskets with condom wrappers in them made her sigh. At least someone is loved.
      Then there were the ones she turned over into the big bin that had vomit, blood, used condoms, or other things in them. Sometimes she’d retch and have to run to the bathroom. Chambermaid was a hard job. She developed new respect for the people who did the job for years and years. 

After all, she’d only be doing this nasty job for a little while. She was going to meet a tall, English gentleman and live a life of leisure someday. Wait! That nice man who gave her money --didn't he speak British English? Oh, yes. He did. She sighed. What chance did she have of running into him again? Well, she could dream, couldn't she? 
   

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From inspiration to real life...maybe...

Last summer, I was fortunate enough to be invited to participate in a holiday romance hockey charity anthology. The task? Write a hockey romance story only 20,000 words long. 

I love pro sports and have football and baseball romance series. But hockey? I am not nearly as conversant in hockey as I am in the other sports. A dear friend volunteered to beta read it for me and correct all my hockey mistakes, so I decided to do it. 

Now, to find some inspiration! I searched the Internet for unique hockey stories and came upon one that touched my heart. The more I read about this retired player, the more empathetic and curious I became. 

"What would it be like to have to give up the game in your prime because of an injury? How would that affect a dating relationship? A marriage?" I asked myself questions like these, and lo and behold, a story began to unfold in my brain. 

The story, "The Final Slapshot", tells of a husband and wife searching to find their footing after the husband sustained a freak, career-ending injury.

In my story, the couple had a good marriage, but had struggled with keeping it together while spending too much time apart. What will this new wrinkle do? How will it change the balance of their relationship? 

I dove into the story with all my heart and submitted it. The anthology was released in November. Along with the 17 other authors participating in this tome, we promoted the hell out of it and made the USA Today best-seller list. We cheered the fruit of our efforts. But the best was yet to come. 

The book ended up earning over $4,500 for our charity, USA Warriors Ice Hockey program for disabled veterans. In December, our stories were released to us and I've put mine up as a separate ebook and paperback. 

Slowly an idea dawned on me. I looked up the man who inspired my book. I wondered if he'd like to know that his story inspired my story which helped to raise money for such a worthy cause? 

And the idea of sending him a copy of the paperback with a letter explaining this popped into my head. I found his address. I've been toying with the idea. 

Do you think he'd like it or be angry? The book hasn't made much money for me personally, but the story is still one of my favorites. What do you think I should do? Should I send him the book? Or leave the man alone? Opinions welcome. Please leave them in the comments section. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "SNOW" - MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES...

Welcome! This week our word prompt is "snow." We have more of "Maggie's Story." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for coming. 

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“Aggie, it’s been two weeks and this pip ain’t got a job. Rent’s due in another week,” Burt said.

“Maggie, any leads?” Agnes turned to face her roommate.

The brunette shook her head. She’d worn out a pair of shoes, walking the pavement, looking for a job, with no luck.

“Burt, take her in with you. Aren’t they always looking for people at the hotel?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just fired a chambermaid yesterday. Everyone’s complainin’ they’ll have to do twice the work.”

“Burt works at the Gold Crown Hotel.”

“You do?” Maggie’s eyes got wide.

“In the laundry,” he snorted.

“Oh.”

“They’ll be needin’ a new maid. You game?” He looked at Maggie.

“Sure. Thanks.” She twisted a napkin in her hands, dropping her gaze to avoid Burt’s piercing stare.

“It’s hard work, girl.” He took hold of her chin and raised her face.

“I’m not afraid of hard work.” She raised her chin.

“Be ready at five thirty.”

“In the morning?”

“Hell yes. Laundry, maid’s work is done early. Set up your cart, get rooms ready. But you’ll get out around four.”

She nodded.

“Don’t fuss about clothes. They give you a uniform. Just keep your knickers on, your eyes to yourself, and your mouth shut, and you’ll do fine.” He looked her up and down, then gave his head a slight shake. “Kinda puny for this work, ain’t she?”

“She’ll be fine,” Aggies said. “Right, girl?”

“Thanks.” Maggie nodded. She knew that her skinny form wouldn’t tempt anyone and that was a load off her mind.

The next morning, she threw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grabbed a carrot and stuffed it into her small purse. She met Burt at the door.

“Come on, lassie. Don’t look so glum. A smile might get you the job. No one likes to work around a sad sack.”

When they arrived, Burt introduced Maggie to a woman with snow-white hair. 

"Burt says your a hard worker."

"That I am," Maggie said. 

"Good. There's plenty of hard work here. But you'll get wages, vacation, and sometimes tips from the guests. Just behave yourself and you'll have a steady job as long as you want."

"Thank you." Maggie smiled. 
"That's what I like. A smile," the woman said, returning the

greeting. "Burt'll show you the ropes."

Burt put his arm around Maggie and squeezed her for a moment.  
"A new beginning, Maggie. You'll do fine."

"Thanks, Burt. For everything. I won't let you down."

"I know, Lass. I know. Let's go."

Maggie let out a breath. Hired, just like that. Things in New York were looking up.

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES...

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week is picture prompt week. I've chosen the picture above. We are only allowed 300 words on picture prompt weeks, so it takes extra skill to write something meaningful that's so short. Thanks for coming! Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales for the other stories.

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Maggie climbed the subway stairs, anxious to reach the street and fresh air. The heat of summer heightened the rancid, putrid smells of the station. She needed fresh air. Once at the street level, she glanced around, looking for a bench. She found an old sofa, waiting to be tossed and collapsed down onto it. Fishing in her little handbag, she pulled out a hanky. Maggie thought about the day. She’d had three job interviews but no offers.

Tears formed. Did she have to beg for a job? So humiliating. Where would she get forty dollars, her share of the rent? She covered her face with her hand as the big, wet drops rolled down her cheeks.

“What here?” a masculine voice called. “Miss? You in trouble?”

She looked up. A chauffeur in a shiny black car peered out passenger window.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked.

“I asked was you in trouble.”

“No sir.”

“Then whatcha cryin’ for?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Such a pretty lass to be so sad,” he said, shaking his head.

“None of your business.”

The man reached down inside the car.

She wished he’d go. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Mebbe.”

Staring at her hands, she prayed he’d leave.

“Come here.”

She shook her head.

“Come here. Come on. Not gonna kidnap you or anything.”

“What you want?”

He motioned her over. Curiosity gripped her. She approached his vehicle slowly.

“Maybe this’ll help,” he said, waving two twenty-dollar bills.

“What do you think I’m gonna do for those?”

“Nothin,” he said, starting the motor. “Thought they might make you smile.”

She snatched the money and stepped back. He put the car in gear and with a wave of his hand he was off. She didn’t even get his name.   

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TUESDAY TALES - MAGGIE'S STORY CONTINUES - WORD PROMPT "GREASY"

Howdy-do! Welcome! We continue with Maggie's Story today. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you so much for coming!

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After a climbing three staircases, they entered a tiny two bedroom apartment. Gladys led her to a narrow twin bed in a room with tw"o other beds the same size. There was barely room to move.

“This is your bunk, love. Here’s the paper. Look for a job. If you can’t find anything, Burt might be able to get you some work as a chambermaid at the hotel where he works. Do ya know how to make a bed?”

Maggie nodded. Gladys handed her a set of keys, kissed her on the cheek and headed for the front door. When her cousin was gone, Maggie sank down on her bed and cried.

"Come, come, lass. Ain't that bad. We've got some fish and chips. You must be hungry," Gladys said, handing Maggie a tissue.

After mopping her eyes and blowing her nose, she followed her cousin to the living room. In the small ell, a table was set up. 

"Help yourself," Gladys said with a smile. 

Maggie filled a plate with a piece of fish and French fries. She joined the others in the living room, taking a small chair. The food was a bit greasy, but delicious. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. 

"Do ya like living here?" she asked her cousin.

"New York City? It's bigger 'an you could imagine. But they got everything here."

"I hope they have a job."

"What do you do?" Gladys asked.

"Take care of children."

"Oh, a nanny?"

Maggie nodded.

"Might be kinda hard to find that here, seein' you don't know nobody."

Maggie finished her food, washed up her plate and returned to her room. Lying on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. Maybe something good could come from this huge place? That is, if it didn't swallow her whole, first. 

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