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“Well, I'll let you rest, and let me know when the girls can start if they are interested. Come down for breakfast in the morning, too. Here,” she says, handing me a key. “That will let you into my studio, so you have access to the kitchen if I am not here, which is rare; I have nowhere else to go,” she chuckles.
“Thank you, Valarie. You have no idea how much this means to my son and me.”
“No need to thank me, Everly. So, I will see you in the morning, and we'll start ordering supplies. There should be a pen and paper in the drawer if the moths haven't eaten them. Write a list of what needs doing that you notice, and we can go over it tomorrow,” she says before looking down at Valarian on the bed. She brushes her finger down his little nose, her eyes softening before she clears her throat and nods to me before walking out.
ChapterEleven
Ican’t believe my luck. I spend all night writing a list for Valarie—everything that I'd already noticed needed doing around the place—but it's a little challenging, considering I don’t know what half the place looks like. I also spend a good chunk of time listing ways to advertise the place once it's up and running because she really needs it. I’ve lived in this city my entire life, and I never realized there was a hotel on this side of town until I drove past in the taxi; and on the main street no less! Valarie won't need this information until the place is ready to open though, which is a long way off. And that's if it even passes the health and safety inspections because this place is literally falling apart at the seams.
After breakfast, I manage to get a hold of Macey and Zoe. Both are eager to find work and are floored with the amount Valarie is willing to pay them, making me realize it wasn’t just me that was underpaid and overworked, but rogues in general. Macey's mother said she would watch her baby; Zoe said she would have to bring hers but had a baby carrier and stroller she could use.
Zoe is just sixteen years old—even younger than me—making my heart really go out for her. Her mother was a rogue but died when Zoe was a child, and she has spent her entire life in and out of child orphanages and refuges. How lonely it would feel to be entirely on your own all your life, though she probably doesn’t know any different. She sounds miserable where she is and I spend over an hour on the phone with her. After we hang up, I go down and speak to Valarie, asking if it's alright if Zoe shares the room with me. It has a fold-out bed if Zoe feels weird about sharing the double with me. Valarie seems genuinely excited about someone else coming here and happily agrees.
The following day, I wake up to Valarie calling out to me from downstairs. Sitting up, I see Valarian is still asleep, and my mouth falls open when I realize it's nearly 10 a.m.—we slept in! When sleeping in my car, I was usually up around 6 a.m.
“Everly, wakey, wakey,” comes Valarie’s voice from the other side of the door as she knocks.
I quickly rush to open the door, embarrassed that I slept so late. Valarie is standing there with a cigarette between her lips, wearing her typical jeans and tank top, an open vest, and steel toe boots. She looks ready to kick ass—hopefully not mine. She really is one tough lady with a heart of gold.
“Finally, you're up. Did you have a good sleep? I didn’t want to wake you,” she says.
“I am so sorry–” I start, but she waves me off.
“Don’t worry about that; I came in with the master key and turned your alarm off. Come, come. I need your help unloading my truck,” she says, walking off toward the stairs. I look back into the room. Valarian is sleeping peacefully so I leave the door open before following her down the stairs in my pajamas.
“I've been shopping. Couldn’t have Valarian sleeping on that dirty mattress, and now Zoe is coming with her baby. I thought I would grab some things. It turns out, I have a shopping problem. Everything was so cute and reminded me of when I went shopping for my son when I had him,” Valarie gushes, her sparkle bright with her excitement. Pointing to the bed of her pickup truck. I blink, shocked. She had indeed been shopping! My hands go to my mouth.
“Valarie…” I am gobsmacked. I don’t know what to say; I can’t believe she's done all this for two rogue girls she barely knows, one of whom she hasn’t even met yet. There are two of everything—everything you could possibly think of! Two cribs, mobiles, crib sheet sets, blankets, and baby toys, some of which both babies are a little too young to play with yet.
“Oh! Check this out; this even has a camera so you can watch them while they sleep,” Valarie says, holding up a baby monitor. “Didn't have these when mine was young.”
“I don't know what to say; this is seriously the nicest thing anyone has done for me. You've already done more than enough and I only just met you,” I croak out, becoming emotional. Big fat tears roll down my face. How could one woman be so kind? She has shown more kindness in the last 24 hours than I received the whole year I have been rogue.
“It takes a village to raise a child; we are going to build our own village,” Valarie says before clapping her hands. “Now, let's get this stuff up to the room before the delivery truck comes. We also need to get that bed out; two new ones arrive around twelve. What time will the girls get here?”
“They said ten this morning.”
“Well, we better hop to it. Then, I need a coffee and about ten more of these to build up the motivation,” she says, holding up her smoke. I chuckle, and we start undoing the straps holding everything in place.
I'm exhausted when I run the last of it up—the room looks more like a baby store than a bedroom now. I shake my head, trying to figure out where the heck Zoe and I are going to put it all. Valarie is taking a break and feeding Valarian a bottle. She's very fond of my son and has commented about four or five times already about his eyes. Her fascination with them confuses me.
Hearing a truck reversing, Valarie hops up, looking out the door and over the balcony.
“Now, please tell me that is your car. Otherwise, I've just stolen someone else's from the train station” she giggles.
“What?” I ask, getting up and walking over to see a tow truck with my car on the back.
“Yes, that's my beast; I would have walked back and gotten it,” I tell her, feeling bad she wasted money getting it towed.
“Nonsense! Phil owed me a favor anyway—picked him up once when his truck broke down, said he owed me one—and I simply collected,” she says.
The truck door opens, and a big, burly trucker gets out with a beard and balding head.
“Val, where do you want it?” he calls out to her.
“Anywhere, Phil, we have the keys to move it,” she calls back to him. Looking at the time, I see it's nearly ten in the morning. I'd told the girls I would meet them out front near the curb so they could find the place easier; they were also unaware there was a hotel here and seemed confused when I mentioned the address.
“Girls should be nearly here,” I tell Valarie. She sends me off with a little wave, going back to feeding Valarian and fussing over him. I smile at her. Valarie's whole attitude seems different since yesterday. She appears almost happy—like she's found a new lease on life.
