Interlude: The Bellboy

A young woman sat in a rocking chair, holding a teddy bear. She went back and forth rhythmically, and slowly. The creaks of the wooden chair hummed out like a lullaby.

“Do you know the story of the belle and the bellboy?... No? Let me tell it to you.”

The woman had long braided hair. All brown, all natural. She wore two wedding rings, one on her left hand and one on her right. The room she was in was mostly empty. An ornate window silhouetted her against the fading sunlight. The hazy glow settled over the edges of the woman’s face as she rocked forward and backward like a pendulum clock.

“There was a young affluent girl who would use any excuse to visit her favorite hotel. It wasn’t the great service or the beautiful architecture that kept her coming back, though those things certainly helped fuel the flame. It was the bellboy who always served her that made her unable to resist visiting as much as possible.”

The woman began playing with the teddy bear's arms, moving them around like he was waving.

“His parents owned the hotel too, which was very pleasing to know. Sure, it was only one business, but it might be enough to get her father’s approval for their engagement. She didn’t want to marry a corporate man that owned half of the world. All she needed was the love of her little bellboy.”

Creak. Creak.

“So she gathered up the courage and told her father. She just laid it all out to him, and to her delight, he said that it was okay. He just wanted the best for her. He wanted his little girl to be happy. Happy.” The woman repeated that last word emptily.

“The bellboy died in a hover car crash right after that. It was nobody’s fault, not really.”

The young woman stopped rocking in the chair. "It would've been better if it was someone's fault. If there was a drunk driver to blame, or faulty wiring so that the car company could take responsibility. The girl didn't know where she should place her angry, or her sadness. And she would have to take care of his unborn child without him. Without her bellboy."

The woman leaned down, her braids falling in front of her face and clouding her expression in shadow. Then she looked up and smiled.

“But it's okay now. It doesn't matter, because he didn’t really die. No, he didn’t. I still have him here. He’s a little lost, but I still have him.”

The woman stood up and walked towards the other object on the far side of the room. A baby’s crib. The child in it was sleeping peacefully, wrapped up in sky blue blankets. She placed the teddy bear next to him.

“Don't worry. Daddy’s coming home soon.”