Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

Somewhat Saved (8 page)

BOOK: Somewhat Saved

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Chandler . . . She now had a first name to go with her first impression. She tilted her head slowly, letting her eyes drink in what she now could call Chandler, although not to his face. But it didn't take a second for her to return to reality. She was sure he would never associate with the likes of her beyond this office.

Zipporah shuddered slightly as she pretended to remove an imaginary piece of nothing from her skirt. She needed to get a grip; she didn't have time for frivolous daydreaming. She sat up a little straighter and focused on several pictures adorning the office wall.

It was of no use, her eyes were immediately drawn back to him.

He sat and then pushed his chair back, letting it lean against the wall. He tugged at the telephone cord until it extended to its full length. With his free hand, he drummed a fast rhythm with a pen.

His face was still handsome despite the sudden look of chagrin. “Mandy is out to lunch, so have someone handle it until I can get security there.” He stopped and scribbled something on a sticky note. “I'm in the middle of interviewing a new employeeâ” He lay the receiver down harder than he'd wanted, then turned and gave her a look of exasperation before he continued to write.

He pressed another button on the phone bank while trying to hide his aggravation behind a smile. He was evidently embarrassed by the momentary show of unprofessionalism. “I'm sorry for the interruption, Miss Moses. Please give me another moment.”

“It's not a problem.” That was the best response she had. What she really wanted to do was to place his head on her shoulder. She'd cuddle him while saying seductively, “Don't worry. I'm here to make things better.”

Again, she'd allowed a fantasy moment to visit. For the next few minutes she did everything she could to avoid eye contact and pretend she wasn't listening to whatever the problem was. From snatches of conversation she'd learned that the problem was in one of the conference rooms and that it involved several church women. She wasn't sure how serious it was but it caused Mr. Lamb to order security to the room and hold those involved until he got the building manager there.

“. . . I'll decide what to do once security gets there. Just calm the women down. The last thing we need or want is bad press or a lawsuit.”

After hanging up, again Mr. Lamb started scribbling, but this time he handed the paper to Zipporah. “Give this to the receptionist when she returns. She'll tell you where to go for your uniform and have you fill out the remaining paperwork. I'm placing you on the eleven in the morning until seven in the evening shift. If things work out, then I'll see about a permanent shift for you. You'll need to come back inside my office before you leave.” Without waiting for her to reply, he rose and extended a handshake before escorting her out of his office.

“Mandy, you're back. Good. Please take care of Miss Moses. She has the paperwork for you to get her started. She's starting tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lamb,” Mandy replied. “I'll take care of things.”

Mandy waited until the door closed behind Chandler Lamb before she addressed Zipporah.

“I see your prayers worked.” She gave a half smile before turning away.

So Mandy was her name. So what happened to the smiling woman with the ugly blue eye shadow? This one still wore the ugly eye shadow but the encouraging personality was gone. This one in less than ten minutes had returned as an uppity woman with an uppity name.

Zipporah watched as Mandy strained to remain dignified. She pushed her rimless glasses down on her nose and looked again at Zipporah, this time with disapproval. She looked as though by Zipporah's very presence Zipporah had taken the building from a five-star rating to a one. Her disdain was apparent. Her true reasons for disliking Zipporah were not.

After giving Zipporah detailed instructions, Mandy led her back inside Chandler's office.

Inside the office Chandler was busy trying to do the job of human resources and guest relations. He was still rapping the pencil as he gave orders into the telephone.

“I also need you to get in touch with a Reverend Leotis Tom. Here's his number.” Chandler gave the numbers hurriedly. “Apparently, several of the conference attendees have started a row in our Billie Holiday banquet room.” He put down the phone and got up. He started gathering papers from his desk.

“Isn't that where the National Missionary and Mothers Board Conference is being held?” Mandy tried to suppress a smug smile at her knowledge of everything that went on at the Jaeger, but failed.

“Yes, I don't know all the facts. I sent security over there before things get completely out of hand.”

“I see you have your briefcase. Are you leaving early when you finish with Miss Moses?”

“No, Mandy, I'll be back.” He could tell by the way she just stood there that she needed more information. “Just so that you know, my godmother is visiting for a few days. I'm going over to her hotel to surprise her with a visit.”

Zipporah listened as Chandler gave further instructions and explanations regarding what she thought should've been his personal business.

To Zipporah, the mention of the church mothers acting unseemly reminded her of the two old women she'd witnessed cutting up at the Luxor.
Whatever these women were doing in the conference room would pale compared to the antics those old women were capable of doing,
she thought. She placed a hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh. At least she didn't have to worry about running into them again. She hadn't gotten the singing job at the Luxor and she certainly wouldn't be staying there, so there was no reason their paths should ever cross.

Chandler Lamb left quickly, before Zipporah had a chance to regroup and thank him for the job. She sat mute as Mandy lay down Mandy's law. If she hadn't known better, the way the receptionist acted, Zipporah might have thought Mr. Lamb worked for Mandy.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable at the thought of Mandy being a bit overprotective of a man who looked young enough to be her son. But she needed a job and this was the first opportunity she'd had in months. Whatever the relationship between Mr. Lamb and Mandy, Zipporah's need for work was more important.

Zipporah's new job as a casino cocktail waitress was what it was, and she'd make the most of it. She'd watched other casino hostesses in their skimpy outfits with fishnet stockings and painted faces. With forced painted smiles they pranced around on aching feet and tried to ignore the unwanted touches and alcohol-laced come-ons from the big-time pretenders.

She was certain she had the figure to compete, and with a bit more makeup, she was sure to pull in enough tips. If she was intimidated by anything more, it was the idea of balancing those trays while sashaying from aisle to aisle in stilettos.

Sister Betty couldn't get back to the Luxor Hotel quick enough. She'd never been so embarrassed: Bea and Sasha elbowing one another and acting like common heathens. Bea's ranting. Bea comparing Sasha to the munchkins in the
Wizard of Oz
and threatening to kick her behind all up and down a Las Vegas yellow brick road.

Other indignities displayed by Bea and Sasha replayed in Sister Betty's mind. Again, she couldn't believe how unseemly they'd acted. She hadn't been that upset in quite some time. Right in front of the other National Missionary and Mothers Board members, they'd done everything to prove they were not worthy of their seats on the board.

If it weren't for the sudden appearance of the security guard, Sister Betty was certain someone would've gotten hurt during the shoving match. The proverbial straw broke when one of the female servers toppled over a chair and landed with a bowl of fruit on her head like a hat. The server's screams then brought down the head of security, who joined the other security personnel.

The head of security was a portly, middle-aged, white man. He stood erect with a scowl as he surveyed the conference room damage. His eyes narrowed while he opened and closed his fists. He looked as though he'd be adept at punching cows with his bare hands or doing likewise to the Mothers Board. He promptly informed the members that their conference luncheon was officially over. He wouldn't commit as to whether he'd recommend that the Jaeger honor their contract for the remaining two weeks. And he was bound to inform any other facility where they'd planned to hold their conference finale about their behavior.

While Sister Betty and several other women slipped out, he was still snipping away at Bea and Sasha. The two old women had stood huddled together as the head of security blasted away with spit flying everywhere. With their invisible, lopsided halos spinning, they'd tried to look pitiful. They somehow managed to look guilty, still, despite the phony tears.

While the church mothers were dismantling the conference room on the fourth floor, Zipporah took her paperwork to the departments Mandy had directed before she returned to the shelter.

Zipporah tiptoed inside the shelter and scribbled her name on the sign-in sheet. She'd made it illegible on purpose, hoping it would allow her time to make her next move. Whatever came next, she hoped it wouldn't be Miss Thompson.

Sister Betty thanked the Lord that through the goodness of a couple of strangers who had helped her to secure a cab, she'd made it back to the Luxor.

One of the first things she did was to take a quick shower. She was still tired and decided to lounge in her robe instead of dressing. She remained so put out she didn't place her cross around her neck. It lay on the dresser, but it didn't stop her from kneeling to pray.

“Lord, what is this all about? I still don't know why you have me here with all this confusion going on. You said in Your word that You were not the author of confusion. Please give me an answer before these folks make me lose my testimony.”

She prayed until the tears ran down her cheeks and seeped into the corners of her mouth. She drank enough of the salty tears to elevate her high blood pressure. “I need an answer, Father God. I need an answer now.”

She was about to thrash around on the hotel room floor for the third time when she thought she had finally heard God answer her. She dismissed the thought when she realized that what she'd heard was a series of light raps on her hotel suite door. She rose and for modesty sake, clutched her robe so tight only her tiny chin peeked out.

“Who is it?” She'd risen too fast and had started feeling a bit heady. She wasn't completely sure if she'd completed the sentence. She asked again, “Who's there?”

“It's me, Auntie Betty. It's your godson.”

The voice sounded familiar. It was almost like hearing music playing. She tightened the grip on her robe collar and asked again, softer this time, “Who is it?”

“Auntie Betty, it's Chandler.”

Without thinking she flung open the hotel door. In her excitement, her small hands let go of her robe collar as she reached out to hug him.

“Oh, my Lord.” Her eyes widened as did his. Only Chandler's wide-eyed expression was followed by a loud gasp. As Sister Betty reached out to hug her godson, her robe parted. All the nakedness Eve tried to hide from God behind a fig leaf, Sister Betty exposed to the young man she'd not seen in a long time.

While Sister Betty tried to hide her embarrassment from her godson inside her Luxor Hotel suite, Sasha and Bea were on the way to bring more.

Bea and Sasha were tired. The Las Vegas heat seemed to sap every bit of energy they had. However, they kept just enough to continue arguing in the taxi ride back to the Luxor.

“Do you believe how that man spoke to you?” Sasha complained bitterly as she pointed her finger at Bea.

“He was fussing at you 'cause you started that mess.” Bea swatted at Sasha's accusing finger.

Bea and Sasha argued back and forth for the entire ride. Each accusation tossed around was more unbelievable than the other. They bickered in the hotel lobby, although not as loud. Elderly or not, they had enough sense to hide their fussing behind smiles and the sunglasses they'd picked up earlier in the day. After all, they didn't know if someone would, again, want their autographs. They stood for a few moments posing in the lobby, but no one asked for their signatures or took pictures. So they continued chiding one another on the elevator. Each accused the other of bringing shame to their newly found, supposed, celebrity status.

“I'm gonna pray for you, Bea.” Sasha leaned against the elevator wall as well as her cane. So much quarreling had left her wheezing as though she were having an asthma attack. She'd add more but she couldn't.

“Make sure you remove that log from your own eye before you start complaining about me to the Lord.” Bea was in no better condition.

Sasha was the first one to get off the elevator. As usual, she waddled her tiny behind directly in Bea's direction. Tired or not, Sasha was always determined to have the last say so.

All Bea could offer was a weak, “Make sure you have your butt downstairs on time this evening. We're supposed to lead the prayers if they change their minds and let us back in the conference center.”

Of course, things only got worse. Bea had forgotten her room number, and of course, her perpetually weak bladder wasn't cooperating or trying to wait until she remembered. She searched her pockets for her keycard and then finally remembered that Sasha was holding it. She'd given it to her earlier so she wouldn't lose it. Now she was about to lose her dignity if her Depends pad didn't hold out. Somehow she'd managed to remember which room Sasha was in. Why she could remember 666 and not remember her own room, she didn't know.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a small figure down the hall. It was Sasha. She was fussing and knocking at the hotel door with her cane. She was so mad she didn't care that Bea was suddenly standing next to her.

It was another few minutes before they finally figured out that Sasha was trying to enter her room with Bea's keycard.

Bea was about to snatch her keycard from Sasha's hand when she actually had a lucid moment and lied her way out of her own situation. “I knew you'd need my help. You looked so tired so I decided to offer my assistance.” Bea fumbled her words trying to make the lie work.

Sasha was too tired to argue with Bea's silliness. Instead, she kept quiet and used the correct keycard to enter her room.

If Sasha hadn't been so exhausted and had paid closer attention, she'd have noticed that Bea was now hopping around like a bunny on crack. But she didn't. So when Sasha pulled the keycard out and the little green light on the door clicked and opened, Bea spun into action.

The clicking sound was all Bea needed to hear to send her bladder into overdrive. Bea shoved Sasha aside and raced inside Sasha's bathroom. She'd forgotten or didn't care that Sasha didn't offer folks the use of her own bathroom back in Pelzer. Bea depositing anything other than money in her hotel bathroom was unacceptable.

When Bea sheepishly came out of Sasha's bathroom it was on.

“You old cow, who told you that you could use my bathroom?” Sasha's eyes grew large as she, as usual, raised her cane in Bea's direction.

“Well, heifer, would you have rather I raised one leg and squirted your door?” Bea's energy was renewed by the visit to the bathroom even if her clarity wasn't. She swatted Sasha's cane aside like she would a fly.

“You couldn't even raise anything if you tried.”

Sasha was wrong. Bea could raise something and so could she. They were at it again. Only this time they raised more hell.

If they didn't have separate hotel rooms, they'd have torn down the Luxor.

BOOK: Somewhat Saved

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