Hotel Maid Takes Revenge on the Guest Until He Finds Out That They Have Already Met Once – Story of the Day

When Eva’s mother asks her to reach out to her estranged father, Eva wants to do anything but that. But when her mother dies, she is forced to make contact. Except, he ignores her. Until years later when he needs the help.

Eva sat on the hard plastic chair beside her mother's bed. She saw how pale her mother had become, her veins dancing along her skin. She looked at the silk bonnet her mother had on – the one she put on at the last minute before their neighbor knocked on the door to take them to the hospital.

Now, her mother sat back against the starched hospital sheets with the thin red blanket draped across her knees. She constantly licked her lips, dry lips being a side effect of her chemo. Eva watched the steady drip of her mother's blood transfusion, hoping that this time, the transfusion would give her the energy she needed to continue fighting.

Her mother smoothed the magazine she held, pulling back the dog-eared pages.

"Eva?" her mother, Alma, said.

"What? Sorry, Mom," Eva said.

"What were you thinking about?" Alma asked.

"Nothing. Everything," she replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a bus ran over me. Or a train? Which one sounds like it would hurt more?" her mother chuckled and winced in unison.

"Come on, Mom. Not that, okay?" Eva said.

She hated it when her mom started to talk about fatal deaths. Eva knew that it was just her coping mechanism, and there were times when she joined in with her mom. She would add new ways to the list and watch 1000 Ways to Die on television while they ate frozen fruit when her mother simply could not keep anything else done – another side effect of chemotherapy.

But now, since Alma had gotten sicker, Eva felt that their constant jokes about death were bringing the inevitable closer – something that she could not handle at all. She was only sixteen, and the thought of not having her mother around was enough to send her into panic-filled rages, where she would break things all over the house.

"Eva? Talk to me," her mother said quietly.

"Do you think you'll get better?" Eva asked.

"Oh, I'm going to try, Eva. You better believe that."

Eva smiled. She watched her mother flip through the magazine again, landing on the page with the dog ears again.

"What's so good about the magazine?" she asked.

"Oh, Eva," her mother started to say but spluttered her words as a cough took over.

"Mom, maybe you need to rest?" she asked.

Alma shook her head.

"There's so much that I want to tell you, so many things that I want to do with you," her mother said.

"And we'll have enough time to do that," Eva said.

Eva reached for the glass of water on her mother's side and held it out for her.

"Drink," she told her mother.

"Thank you," Alma said, taking the glass from her.

"Why don't you rest, and we can talk about tomorrow?"

"No, let's talk now. If I don't make it," Alma began.

"Mom," Eva said.

"No, you need to listen to me."

Her mother opened the magazine to the same dog-eared page – a spread of some hot and coming fashion designer. Eva had seen an interview with her while eating dinner a few nights ago. It surprised Eva that she was quite young and already so successful.

"Please tell me that you don't want a designer dress because I don't think we can afford it," Eva grinned at her mother.

"Come sit here," Alma said. "I want to show you something."

Her mother scooted over to the edge of her bed, allowing Eva to jump on. Eva kicked off her shoes, suddenly aware of the hole in one of her socks. She got into bed with her mother and smiled at her.

"Okay, show me," she said.

Alma spread the magazine on their laps, again showing off the designer.

"Look here," she said, pointing to the series of photographs along the bottom of the page. "Do you see this man?"

Eva squinted at the small photo and then took the magazine from the mother to get a better look.

"Who is he?" she asked, finally.

"That's your father," Alma said. "I have more photographs at home, in a shoebox hidden with the rest of my shoes. I know we don't talk about him, Eva, but I saw this, and it felt like a sign that I should tell you."

"Mom, he left us," Eva said.

"Eva, he left me, I don't think he intended to leave you."

"No, he left us," Eva said, putting the magazine to the side and topping up her mother's glass of water.

"Don't try and justify it or any of his actions. He left us both, and clearly, he got a better life from it," Eva said.

If the man truly was her father, he had traded up their two-bedroom apartment with the peeling paint and mismatched tiles for a life of opulence. Nora Houghton was clearly a woman who lived a high and luxurious life, and it seemed her father had hopped onto that ride.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Eva asked.

She moved back to the hard chair to look at her mother while they were talking.

Alma was silent for a few moments. The only sounds were the beeping of monitors and the underlying buzz of being in a hospital.

"Mom?" Eva prompted.

"Eva, if I don't make it through this, and don't try to reassure me – I am trying and fighting. But if we go in the other direction, I need to know that you will be safe and that you will be taken care of. You're only sixteen, and we have no family here. If I don't make it through the next two years – you will go into the system."

Her mother began coughing, and Eva knew she was drained from the conversation. So, she didn't want to fight anymore.

"Okay, and then what?"

"I want you to find him, Eva. I have an email address for him somewhere. We can look for it when I get discharged. Let's just try. Just connect with him. You don't have to ask for anything."

Eva could have said many things. She didn't want to just be okay with this. And she was sure that she did not want to meet the man in the magazine. But she needed her mother to rest, and if it meant saying they would find a way to meet him, then she would do so.

"Okay, Mom," Eva said. "We can do all of that, but you need to rest. We can talk about it more when we're home. But for now, you need to sleep, and I need you to listen to your body and rest."

Her mother put her head back against the pillow and smiled at her weakly.

"Thank you," she said. "But I want you to know that you look nothing like him, whatever may come. You look just like me. You're only mine."

Eva smiled at Alma. She loved it when her mother said things like this – the constant reminders that no matter what, Eva was hers and hers alone. It always comforted her, and even during her childhood, she did not question her lack of father because her mother's love and presence gave her everything she needed.

If Eva had to be honest about it, she would only bring the topic up when she needed her father's name for a school project on family trees. Oscar, that was his name.

After that, she never spoke of it, of him, again.

The machine beeped, and they both looked at the transfusion. It was done. Marking the end of their hospital visit and the end of the conversation.

"Call the nurse?" Eva asked her mother.

Alma nodded, her eyes drooping with sleep.

The nurse came into the room and told Eva they should let Alma sleep for a few hours and see how she responded to the blood. If everything looked good, then they were free to go home.

Eva agreed and settled back into the chair. She reminded herself that the next time they came into the hospital, she would need to wear her thickest pair of leggings, something to pad the hard chair with.

She glanced at her mother, who looked less pale after getting to the hospital.

Maybe the transfusion is working already, Eva thought.

She struggled to remember whether they had covered the topic in biology that semester. She had barely focused on school – every time her mother relapsed, that was the priority. There was no way around it.

Eva's eyes moved to her mother's hands and rested on the magazine beside her. She pulled it gently and sat back in the chair.

Do I even want to read this? she asked herself. Oh, well.

Eva turned to the page, wondering how often her mother had opened the magazine to that page. She wondered what her mother had been thinking the entire time.

Eva always thought of her mother as someone strong who didn't need anyone else, but at the end of the day, she wondered how her mother felt, seeing that her husband had truly moved into an entirely different life.

She looked at Nora first and wondered what she was like as a person. Not a designer appearing across magazine spreads, but the woman who went to bed with unbrushed hair and no make-up. She wondered if Nora knew that her husband had been married before and had a child.

I doubt it, she thought. Unless she knows and isn't bothered by it.

Eva looked at the smaller photographs of her father and Nora. She wondered how they met. And whether they lived a happy life. They looked happy in the picture at one of Nora's fashion shows.

Let's see what happens, Eva thought.

She didn't even want to contact Oscar, but she would do it if it meant so much to her mother. She would do anything to make Alma feel better, even if it meant promising things to ease her mind. Eva refused to acknowledge the fact that if something happened to her mother, she would have to live with Oscar or get into the foster system. She was sixteen. Who would want to take her?

Eva sat on the floor next to the couch that her mother was reclining on.

"Do you want me to write the email?" her mother asked.

"Tell me what to say," Eva said, pulling the laptop closer.

"Just say who you are and that I am your mother – and maybe give the home address for proof."

"Mom, if we have to give proof, then he cannot be a good guy," Eva said, her hand hovering over the keyboard illuminated with a glowing pink light.

"No, I just mean that sometimes, when people rise to different levels, all sorts of people try to contact him. We'll need something to grab his attention. Something to remind him of his life before the limelight."

Eva looked up at her mother. Her cheekbones straining against her skin, her eyes sunken from the long nights of discomfort.

"You're sure about this?" she asked Alma.

Her mother nodded.

"I know you're not happy about it, but it will give me peace, okay?"

"Fine," Eva said. "Let's do this."

"Maybe start with something neutral. Like 'hello' or 'hi'?" her mother said.

Eva nodded.

Hi Oscar, she typed.

"I hope this message finds you in good health and high spirits," her mother narrated.

Eva wanted to gag at the politeness of it all. She smiled to herself, biting her lip to keep her from laughing. She knew she should have been more serious, but she was with her mother, her favorite person in the world, writing an email to a man who had abandoned them both.

She waited for her mother to tell her what to type next. The silence lingered in the room as the cursor blinked on the screen – the weight of her mother's unspoken motions heavy in the room.

"Maybe we should just get to it? To the point, I mean," Eva said. "Say something about wanting him to know about it and that he needs to understand it and understand me?"

Alma nodded slowly, thinking. She reached onto the table for the bowl of melting frozen fruit – frozen berries this time. It was something that Alma enjoyed keeping her mouth hydrated when she felt too parched.

"Okay," her mother said. "There's something important that we need to talk about. It's not about me, it's about Eva. Is that enough?"

"No, we need more. Maybe say something about why we are reaching out now? About your health and the urgency of the situation. It is time-sensitive."

Her mother's eyes met hers, and Eva knew there was so much said in that gaze alone.

"Ready to type?" Alma asked.

Eva nodded, stretching her legs and putting her laptop on her thighs.

"I am currently facing health challenges, and it has compelled me to reach out to you," her mother said, popping another frozen fruit into her mouth.

"Maybe make it clear that this isn't about blame. We've been absolutely fine without him. But let's say that it is about me only."

"Okay, type this – This is not about blame or resentment. It is about allowing you to be a part of Eva's life; you deserve to know her, and she deserves to know her father."

"Should we ask if he is open to a conversation?"

"Alright," her mother said. "Type – we understand that time has passed, but we are open to having a conversation and a meeting with each other."

"And, Mom, we should say that you will be here no matter what he decides. He must not take pity on us. We don't need that," Eva said, and for the first time, her voice shook slightly.

There was some odd feeling of finality to this. Eva felt she was helping her mother get her affairs in order – ready to tie everything up with a pretty bow.

Does she expect me to sit through a conversation about her belongings next? Eva thought. No, stop it. She is trying, and she is doing this for me.

Then she felt her mother's arm around her.

"Eva, my little love, no matter what happens, you have me. You will always have me."

Eva gulped back her feelings, shoving them deep down into her throat.

She added a few lines about their contact details and that their address was the same. She glanced at the loaded words on the screen and reached for the Bluetooth mouth, which had made its way underneath her thigh. On impulse, she attached a photo of her mother and herself.

Then, she hit 'Send.'

She could almost feel the email looming above them in cyberspace – those few lines creating a fragile bridge between a fractured past and an uncertain future.

"Done," she told her mother.

"Good," her mother said. "Come sit with me. Let's put on that movie you wanted to watch."

*

The foster home's room was small, too bright, and unfamiliar. Eva stood with her bags at her feet, her hands clasped tightly around the locket in her hand – inside was a photograph of herself and her mother. Despite the room being so small, Eva was only reminded of how alone she was in this world.

Her phone lay on the threadbare duvet, a silent companion that held the promise of the connection she desperately sought.

"Come on, Oscar," she said quietly. "Where are you?"

She had not received a reply since she sent the email a few months ago.

Hello Alma and Eva. I am open to connecting. Here is my number. Please contact me.

He had signed the email off as Oscar Houghton, which had amused her mother – seeing Oscar take his new wife's last name.

But since then, Eva has texted him, called him, and even sent a few emails asking him to double-check the number he had sent because there was no answer whenever she called.

He never replied.

Eva had kept up with him on social media. She followed Nora's social accounts just to see where her father was. At first, it was harmless. She did it as a way to distract her mother from her pain.

"Oh, Mom," she would say. "Nora's Instagram shows that they are in France. Do you think he would eat snails?"

And her mother would chuckle.

"Eva, he couldn't stand fish, saying they were gross because who knows that they ate in the ocean. The old Oscar wouldn't have eaten them, but do you think Oscar Houghton would?"

"Yes," Eva would say, always adding to her mother's words. "He would be a whole new person, and I bet he speaks with a different accent wherever he goes."

*

But now...now that Eva was alone, she only wanted to laugh with her mother one more time. And since she knew she couldn't have that, she wanted Oscar to reach out. She wanted him to call her and listen intently while she told him how much her mother meant to her and how much she wanted to be in her own home, where her mother's smell lingered.

She wanted Oscar to say that she should pack her bags and wait for him on the front porch, that he would be right there and take her home with him. Eva didn't want him to be a father, but she wanted him to be her connection to Alma.

She continued to unpack her belongings; her movements were made mechanical by her state of mind. She had to admit that the room was friendly, even though it did not feel friendly. It was better than staying at the hostel where she was for the first two weeks. She had been placed in a large dormitory with around thirty girls waiting to be placed into homes.

Eva had noticed how the younger ones were always chosen first, and it didn't make her feel bad – she knew this was coming. It was easier for families to mold children than teenagers who already knew about the world and what came with it. But still, all she wanted was to be in one place. Just a stable home where she could finish school and leave everything behind.

Eva, my little love, no matter what happens, you have me. You will always have me.

The words never seemed to leave her.

Her phone chimed, breaking the silence of the room. Eva's heart skipped a beat, only to plummet as she saw that the notification was from a school study chat, nothing from Oscar.

She sank onto the bed, looking at the pristine paint on the ceiling.

He doesn't care, huh? Eva thought.

"Eva?" her foster mother said as she knocked on the door.

"Yes, come in," Eva said.

"You okay, Sweetie?" she asked.

Eva nodded.

"Dinner is ready. Come on down when you're ready. We can finish unpacking when you're done."

"Okay, thank you, Mrs Duncan," she said.

"Oh, I wish you'd call me 'Mom,' but I know it's only the first day."

Her foster mother walked away, leaving the door open behind her. Eva would never be able to call her 'Mom.' They both knew that.

Eva put the last of her clothing away and went down to dinner.

Two years had passed, and Eva had been placed in three different homes. While the families were great to her, the problem was that they didn't want to commit to a teenager who was almost out of school, which meant that college fees would soon be on the horizon.

Instead, Eva worked as a maid at one of the hotels. Her mother had left all her money to her, and Eva had used that to get herself an apartment the moment she turned eighteen and was officially in charge of herself.

She worked as a maid by day, saving as much as possible, while studying online at night. She wanted to live the carefree college life everyone her age would be living. Instead, she would clean after the rich and luxurious people of the world, grateful for the generous tips they gave her when she paid extra attention to them.

"Eva!" her manager, Beth, said, as Eva had clocked in for the day.

"Yes? Everything okay?" she asked Beth.

"Yes! I just wanted to tell you that Nora Houghton has checked in. She checked in online last night, so we aren't sure when exactly she'll be here physically. But let's make sure that everything is perfect."

"Wait, Beth. You mean the designer?" Eva asked.

"Yes, the designer! My niece bought one of her dresses for her Prom last month. It was ridiculously expensive, but it was stunning."

"And I'm in charge of the room?"

"Well, yes. The room is on the twelfth floor; you have eleven and twelve this week. Is that good with you? I can always get someone else to cover it."

"No, no! I'm all good!" Eva said quickly, her mind racing.

"Great. Now, go get some breakfast and then get to work."

Eva loved that the hotel offered all staff basic meals during the day. It wasn't as fancy as the hotel's other meals, but it was good. It helped Eva cut down on her groceries and save time in the morning, knowing she wouldn't have to worry about eating at home or making lunch.

After changing into her uniform, she went into the staff dining room and helped herself to some fresh fruit.

"Hi, Eva!" another maid called out, putting her dirty dishes into the tray and leaving to begin her day.

"Good morning, Hana," Eva said, sitting down.

She took out her phone and went straight to Instagram. She needed to see where Nora was, and the designer had a habit of putting her locations on her stories, and usually, Oscar was standing right next to her.

Eva couldn't believe that after years of waiting for some sort of reply from him, he would actually be within reach of her. The thought terrified her. She could confront him, or she could continue to live her life in the way she had been doing so.

"What would Mom want me to do?" she asked softly.

She knew that her mother would want her to contact him. But now that her mother was gone, Eva's impulses had a nasty habit of choosing her every move, and they were not always sane.

Oh, well, she thought. He may not even come here. It may just be Nora in town for work.

But when she landed on Nora's page, she saw a photograph of the couple at the airport – posted only two hours ago. She saw Nora's red dress as she held onto a bouquet of flowers, which made Eva think that Oscar had met her at the airport.

She picked at her breakfast, losing her appetite after realizing that her father would soon be in the same building.

*

Eva was in the foyer, having just checked on when the new flowers for the luxury suites would be ready for her to put into each room. She was just about to take the service elevator when she saw a couple walk through the doors, surrounded by security.

"I'll never get used to that," Nora Houghton said. "Never."

"Really? Because you seem like a natural," Oscar told her.

"Eva," a voice came from the elevator. "Eva, you going up?"

"Oh, yes! Thanks, Beth. Sorry, I got distracted by the designer and her husband."

"They're here? Okay, go and check the room again," Beth said. "Make sure that all tabletops are dust-free!"

Eva went upstairs and pushed her cleaning cart along the corridor. She used her card and went into the room. She had already checked over the room that morning and couldn't care less about it. But now that she was here, she knew her father was downstairs, probably getting ready to make his way to the room – her impulses were out of control.

She felt compelled to do something. She needed to cause him some pain.

Eva looked around the room, trying to figure out how to mess with him. She had to think on her feet because time was running out.

What would hurt him the most? she asked herself. Something that would wreck his relationship. That would ruin his entire life.

A second later, she got it! The perfect way to get him into trouble.

She entered the bedroom and removed her underpants, which she quickly stuffed underneath one of the pillows. She placed it carefully, ensuring that there was a piece of it sticking out. But that was no problem because the soft red stood out against the stark white sheets.

Eva had just put the pillow back when she heard the door open. She quickly got onto her knees and crawled under the bed – grateful that the hotel beds had large spaces underneath, designed for suitcases to fit.

"Oh, look at you! Delicious, delicious," Oscar told Nora. "I can't wait to get my hands on you! Get over here."

Eva could hear Oscar kissing Nora and her giggling. It repulsed Eva.

Next, she heard them fall onto the bed above her.

"Oh, honey. You're finally back. I missed you so much!" Oscar said.

Eva could hear him kissing her.

"What is this, Oscar?" Nora asked.

Eva imagined that Nora was talking about the underwear she had stashed.

"I don't know," Oscar said, brushing away the topic with his continuous kisses on Nora.

Eva heard Nora jump off the bed.

"Nora, wait a second," she heard Oscar say.

"Are you kidding me?" Nora asked. "These are not mine!"

"Give me a break, Nora," Oscar said, setting his feet on the ground before Eva.

"I canceled my business trip to come back to surprise you!"

Eva heard things being thrown across the room.

"Stop throwing stuff, Nora!"

"And you haven't even bothered to clean up after your cheap girl," Nora exclaimed.

"Nora, wait," Oscar said. "I just love you! There is no other girl! Have you completely lost your mind?"

"I am such a fool! I should have known you would do this to me! You left your ex-wife for me. Obviously, you will do the same to me!"

So, she did know, Eva thought. She watched Nora pace the room.

"Of course, you're dumping me over some trash now."

"Nora, it's not like that. That was different," Oscar said.

"You're just an ungrateful creep! You had nothing when you came to me! I gave you a job, a successful life, and opportunities to travel and eat at the best restaurants because you said you always wanted to do that! You have stayed in 5-star hotels because of me!"

Nora paced some more.

"But don't you worry, Oscar? I will put you in the same dumpster I got you out of."

"Don't throw that! Put that down! Put those flowers down."

Eva could see that Oscar had stood up and was standing very close to Nora.

"Listen, Nora, don't you think this is just a bit of a coincidence, huh?"

"Yeah, and so what?" Nora asked. "The wind just blew those right in, through the window, yeah?"

"Come on, be serious. Maybe the couple was here before us, and this room was not cleaned properly. We should complain about that!"

"Oscar, save your stories for someone else."

"Nora, I have never, in our entire marriage, ever done anything to make you suspicious. Ever! I have never done anything to make you question my loyalty."

"Then, let's just get to the truth in my own way. I will ask the maids. I'm sure there's one assigned to this room, so it should be easy to track down."

"Go ahead. I have got nothing to hide from you. Ask anybody here. Today is the first day I've been at this hotel."

Eva was getting anxious. Nora seemed to get warmer to Oscar, and they would make up again. Her voice had gone from being loud and cold to something softer.

I cannot let him off the hook that easily, she thought. I have to do something more.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Oscar's number. Since she had started working at the hotel, she had changed her number, and while she had Oscar's number saved to this phone, she had never tried to contact him.

"Go ahead," Eva heard Oscar say.

And then she pressed 'send'.

Oscar's phone beeped, and from where she was, Eva could see that Nora was closer to where the sound came from.

"Great, you have my phone," Oscar said. "What are you expecting to find on it?"

"The truth," Nora said.

Eva had taken an image of a woman from Pinterest and had sent it to Oscar's number with scandalizing messages.

Nora gasped, and Eva saw that the messages turned from being 'delivered' to being 'read.'

"What are you gasping at?" Oscar asked. "Give me the phone."

There was silence for a moment, and Eva wished she could see their expressions, but from where she was, she could only see their feet.

"I have never seen this picture before," Oscar said. "Never!"

"Uh, huh," Nora said.

"Nora, the number is not even in my contacts!"

"Yeah? Then let's find out, shall we?"

Eva's heart was racing a mile a second. She checked that her phone was on silent and instead opened the app that she and her girlfriends had recently downloaded – it gave personalized voicemail messages generated by the text given.

As Eva linked her message to Oscar's number, the call came through – Eva sent it to voicemail.

The voicemail had a teenage voice saying it belonged to Jess, a sixteen-year-old who loves her sugar daddy, Oscar.

"You believe that? You actually believe that, Nora? That's a setup!"

"Sixteen? She's sixteen, Oscar?" Nora exploded.

"Nora, how can you believe that garbage," Oscar called out.

Eva saw that Nora had left the room.

"I don't even know who she is, Nora!"

Eva could hear that Nora was on the brink of tears.

"Whoever she is, she is just a child who is so unlucky to fall for a freak like you," Nora said.

Eva heard Nora throw something at Oscar again. Eva almost felt bad for him, but it wasn't enough to worry about him. She needed him to feel pain. The same pain that she had felt for years.

Just then, an earring fell and landed in front of her.

Eva began to panic. She would be caught if either of them bent down to retrieve the earring.

"Where's my earring?" Nora asked.

"I don't know," Oscar said. "Check on the floor or something. Check under the bed."

"Stop talking, Oscar," Nora said menacingly.

Nora bent down and put her hands under the bed, running them along the carpet, trying to find the earring. Just as Eva was sure she would bend even lower – there was a knock on the door.

"Gosh. Who is that now?" Nora fumed.

Eva watched as Nora's heels made their way out of the bedroom again.

"Housekeeping," she heard one of the other maids say.

"Oh great!" Nora said. "Because we have some trash that we need to throw away."

Eva watched as Oscar's legs also made their way out of the bedroom.

"Let's just talk about this, Nora. There has got to be an explanation about it. Nora, please, come back!"

Eva could hear Nora's footsteps retreat.

"Nora, wait! Nora! Where are you going? Come back!"

When Eva heard the door close, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She got out from under the bed and left the room as quickly as possible. For all she knew, Nora and Oscar would return soon.

She took her name tag and threw it away in the cleaning cart outside the room. She knew that if they did an investigation, everything would point to her – Beth would reveal that Eva was put in charge. Eva knew that she would need to find a new job, and for some reason, this was worth it.

Oscar needed to get what he deserved, and she was grateful. She had enough savings to keep her going until she found a new job.

*

Three months later, Eva was sitting at her desk, studying for an online exam she would take later that evening.

When there was a knock on the door, she was grateful for the distraction. Her eyes were sore from looking at her laptop screen.

Eva opened the door to find a disheveled Oscar standing on her doorstep, scratching his head.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"You're Eva, aren't you?" Oscar asked her.

"Yes," she replied curtly.

"Eva," he began. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Oscar. I am your father."

Eva stared at the man who she knew was her father. She remembered how glamorous his life had been since he had left her and her mother. And now, looking at him standing there, all she could think was that he was pathetic.

"I've got something for you," he said, holding an old photograph worn at the edges. "Look, it's us. Please, take it."

Eva could hardly believe the audacity of the man.

"Uh, huh, okay," she said, stepping further away.

"Eva, listen, I am so sorry," he said. "I know you probably have a lot of questions...and I understand if it's hard for you to ever let me in. Your Mom and I...well, it's a long story, but at one point, I just had to leave you and your mother. You were just a baby...but I just...I had to leave; I just couldn't help it. I know it's a long shot, but I want to start over! Let's start over, you and me. I want to rebuild our family, make amends for everything, and make new memories. I'd like to live with you."

Eva said nothing, but she looked up at him.

"I have missed so much of your life," Oscar said. "Look at you. You are so grown up and beautiful."

He tried to take her arm, but she pushed him away.

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I look awful, I smell awful, and I feel awful. I don't have a job right now, but I am looking! I don't have a place to live right now, but I want to live with you again. Make things right."

Eva had had enough of his whining.

"So, you're homeless," she said.

"Hey, where is your Mom? Where is the beautiful Alma?" he asked, sticking his head in the apartment.

"No," she said, pushing him back out.

"Where is she?" Oscar asked again. "Is she working?"

"Mom is in heaven," Eva said. "She couldn't stand it when you left us. And then she got sick. She died when I was young, and I lived in foster homes until I was eighteen and able to live by myself. And you know what? I tried to find you. I emailed, texted, and called you, but there was no answer. You were busy living your glamorous lifestyle. And now, after all this time, you come here, to my house, not to rebuild a family! No. You are looking for shelter."

Eva turned, ready to slam the door on him. But he caught it first.

"No," he said. "I am sorry."

"No, you're not. And honestly, neither am I. If you're expecting me to feel a sudden connection, I don't. I'm sure it must have been a long story, but I don't want to know. I had everything I needed growing up. Didn't need a father like you then. Don't need you now, either."

"Okay, listen. I know I have made mistakes. I have ruined your life. I know. But maybe you can find it deep down in your heart to accept me one day. What do you think?"

Eva just stared at him.

"Fine, I'll leave," he said. "But Eva, do you think that maybe you could spare me a couple of bucks, huh? For your old man? I don't want to die on the street. Please."

"Sure," Eva said. "Wait here."

Eva went to the table in the hallway where she kept her wallet and took some money out, but as she put her wallet back, her eyes landed on the earring she had pocketed months ago. Nora's earring from the hotel. She picked it up.

When she returned to Oscar, he held his palm outstretched for her to put the money in it. Instead, she placed the earring in his hand.

"Goodbye," she said, closing the door on him.

Eva took a deep breath and sighed. For the first time since her mother had died, she had felt peace. She was alone, but now it was on her own terms.

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