Maribel

	When Maribel was a child, she was an only child. Her mother was in every guild the church offered women. Her father was, always busy. Her mother would dress her up, Sunday best, hat and gloves everyday and attend mass. Her father was at work, in an office building. 
	Sunday morning, her and her mother went to attend mass. Her father stayed at home and worked on the house, car, or anything that needed fixing.
	It was the order of things. That’s what her mother always said.
	Maribel had an ordinary life, nothing stood out. She had no extraordinary adventures, or exciting moments. There was no dramatic, traumatizing event. She grew up and met a disgruntled young man in the church. Had a nice catholic wedding, then found out she could have no children. That was upsetting, but hardly traumatizing. She could have adopted at any time, but she never aspired to be a mother. As her husband so often pointed out, they would be terrible parents, complaining was their favorite pastime. They both agreed it was best to keep children safe from that.
	You see Maribel really never had anything to complain about, everything was perfect. She had a nice house, good car, and clothes enough to donate when the seasons change. She would have to invent things to complain about sometimes. 
	One time she told a friend she breaks out in a rash if she doesn’t complain all day.

	Maribel had said she would wait at the mailbox, but upon reflection realized it’s too public. So she waited at the door to Room 510.
	Of course Gertrude is going to walk by at any minute and talk my ear off. The sticky beak. Always has her nose in someone’s business.
	“You know why though right?”, she could hear Mel in her head still.
	‘Why?’ Maribel smiled to herself, standing alone in the hallway.
	“Because her life is empty, there’s nothing in it to fill the time. Just imagine if she had a ton of rugrats running around her all the time. Mommie Mommie!”
	Maribel stifled a giggle thinking about four children running around Gertrude in her posh place. Ruining the carpets, drawing on the walls. Throwing food in her fabulous terracotta inspired dining room. Gertrude had shown them all pictures of her house before she moved to the Alpine.
	The elevators opened and snapped Maribel out of her daydream. She waited in anticipation to see who was it going to be, foe or foe. Ha ha!
	It was Smith.
	John’s eyes narrowed on Maribel as he held his room keys firmly in his hand.