Monday, February 25, 2019

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT MIRROR #romance


Welcome to Tuesday Tales! We have another episode of "Mary's Story" again this week. Don't forget to scroll down and hit all the blogs with great stories. Thanks for coming!

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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, February 19, 2019

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.  


Monday, February 4, 2019

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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