I look down at the paper, scanning my options. “That's nice.”
She looks around me to the open balcony door.
“Did you sleep outside last night?” she asks.
I glanced over and laugh.
“Technically, I guess I did. But not on purpose. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep, so I just went out there to get some air. Apparently, that's exactly what I needed to go back to sleep.”
“The fresh air is good for you,” she comments. “I've always loved ocean air.”
“Is that why you were taking a walk with that gentleman last night?” I ask, lifting my eyes curiously.
Graciela gives me a curious look as she pours a glass of juice and offers it out to me.
“What gentleman?” she asks.
“When I was out on the balcony, I looked down and noticed you talking with somebody. You kind of rushed off away from him but you were definitely in a conversation.”
She shakes her head. “I wasn't out last night. I had a headache after finishing my duties for the day and went back to my room without even eating dinner. That's where I was right up until I left for work this morning.”
“Are you sure?” I frown. “It really looked like you.”
“No,” she says. “It must have been someone else. What did the man look like?”
“He was dressed nicely. Tall. Dark skin, short hair,” I describe. “It was late, so I couldn't really see a lot of features.”
"You said dressed nicely. So, he wasn't wearing a uniform like a member of the staff?" she asks.
"No," I say. "He was dressed like one of the guests."
"Oh," she shrugs, smiling and shaking her head as she heads into the bedroom. "No. Staff members are all required to wear their uniform any time we’re on resort grounds other than in the staff village."
"So, maybe it wasn't a member of the staff."
"A guest?" she asks, sounding almost shocked by the suggestion, then starts moving pillows to the side so she can strip the bed. "Definitely not. Staff and guests aren't allowed to— socialize— after hours."
It’s a delicate way of saying ‘hands off’.
I'm not convinced. I'm sure it was her I saw walking on the path in the middle of the night, but she's obviously not going to admit to it. If personal relationships with the guests are against the rules, she might be reluctant to let on. I decide to drop it but am still curious about the policies.
"What would happen if a member of the staff did socialize with a guest?" I ask, remembering the other couplings I saw last night and wondering if any of them could have been sneaking around.
"Biggest rule you can break. You’d get fired right away," she says adamantly. "Of course, nothing would happen to the guest. Nothing ever can happen to the guests."
"And you strike me as not wanting to risk that," I say with a smile.
She yanks the sheets off the bed and balls them up before tossing them aside.
"Definitely not. Getting this job has been a dream," she tells me. "I have three brothers and four sisters back home. My mother always told me I shouldn't settle for anything, that I should always push for my dreams. When I first found out about the opportunity here, I didn't know if I wanted to do it because it would mean leaving my family. Coming all the way out here where I didn't know anyone and couldn't help around the house didn't seem right. But then Mama reminded me my life was mine. That I needed to do what was right for me. Going after this would show my siblings that we weren't defined by anything, and we didn't have to let anything stop us. The whole world is out there, and all we have to do is be willing to chase it."
"That's amazing," I say. "How did you find out about this place?"
"They were advertising, looking for new staff. They offered room and board, activities, benefits, and still excellent pay for me to send money home to my family. I applied and within just a couple of days, did an interview over the computer, was hired, and they whisked me off to here. It was all such a whirlwind I barely felt like I could catch my breath."
"And you've enjoyed working here?" I ask.
"It's been wonderful, for the most part."
"You mean other than the obnoxious guests?" I ask.
She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles.
"Other than that," she confirms. "It really has been, though. Windsor Island is so beautiful. On my days off, I explore with some of the other girls. There's always something new to find, something we haven't seen. Some of the people who work here come from other nearby islands, and they tell us stories. Everything is taken care of for me, and Mr. Windsor treats us well. It's not easy work, I won't say that, but for everything I get out of it, it is absolutely worth it."
"I'm sure your mother and siblings are proud of you," I say.
"Thank you," Graciela says, reaching down to gather up the bedding. "I'll get your fresh things."
I don't think about the conversation much more until later that morning when the three of us are walking back from breakfast. Ahead of us, beyond the area of the path enclosed by the plants and trees, I notice the man I know I saw talking to Graciela last night. He's walking down the path again, but this time his stride doesn't have the same intensity or determination that it did when he was walking away from her. He pauses in front of the guest building and glances over like he's looking at someone on the beach. With a quick turn of his head every which way, he steps off the path into the grass and heads down toward the sand.
“Where are you going?” Bellamy calls after
