“Why shave at 30?”
“Opa, my Dad and all three of my dad’s brothers started losing hair between 365 and 370 months after birth. If your math skills aren’t all there this time of night, that 30 years plus 5 months to 30 years plus 10 months. Balding in random clumps.”
This brought up bad memories for Freya.
Joe accurately discerned what Freya was feeling. “I was insensitive again, I shouldn’t have said it with that much detail. You’re right it sounded like chemo side effects.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She had trouble getting to sleep (and so did Joe). Joe slept on his pillow — the pillow with the few tiny drop bloodstain and a whole lot of her juices soaked in (stain side down). Freya’s fragrance reminded him of all the sex and he relived a pale shadow of those emotions with every breath inhaled through his nose. They woke up, not with an alarm (which they didn’t set), not with the sun (who was blocked by the thick window shade she had drawn as they entered), but by the maid. She stood mouth open looking at Freya and Joe in their Adam and Eve costume.
Joe’s favorite kid’s program pre-junior high was Villa Alegre. The maid had many features that seemed to suggest both Southern Mexican/Guatemalan and Panamanian, so he spoke in his normal accent for English and a clear generic ‘New World’ Spanish accent for Spanish, “Good Morning. Buena Mañana.”
She smiled and spoke Spanish, too much in shock to close the door.
Joe thought this made had put on too much blush this morning, he was too asleep to realize that she was blushing and they had kicked the covers onto the floor during the night. “Que hora es, por favor?”
“Once, once.”
“Gracias.”
Freya stretched and nickered like an bored or exhausted horse. Freya thought she heard Spanish so she spoke in a Spanish dialect so rural she was likely the only one who used this accent who wasn’t her own third cousin (or closer relative) and literate in more than one language (her words are translated into English), “Joe, what happens at 11:11?”
“Now, is 11:11 a.m.”
“When’s check out?”
The maid replied first in Spanish, “Eleven, but we can sometimes give guests until noon… the key is to ask nicely.” She repeated herself in English. Then got enough control to close the door.
“Where’s you learn Spanish?”
“Villa Alegre.”
“That’s where mama improved her English.”
“Oh… well. We’ve got a noon check out.”
“Ok, I’ll skip the shower then.”
“Pity, I’d like to wash you off again.”
“I want you to do that. I’ve got a female friend who likes to watch. If you don’t mind a small camera giving her a live feed, we’ve got a free place to play. If she’s not there we need to record for her.”
“No recording, but I’ll allow her to watch us as long as she’s naked and in the same room as us.”
“Why?”
“I’ve seen porn flicks and I’d like to watch a couple live. I’m willing to allow someone you trust to watch us make love.”
“I dunno, give me a chance to warm up to it.” She was mulling over the possibility.
They started a more committed relationship.
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