The Suitemate

Julie

“Book Your Getaway! You Deserve a Break. Only $79/night.”

The words beckon to me. I have so much stress from the loss of my job and now my brother’s news. The daily headaches are intensifying. I could use a break; that’s for sure. But that price seems awfully low. Especially for the gorgeous pictures I was currently scrolling through on my phone. I check the reviews to see what the catch is. Five Stars. Five Stars. Four point Five Stars, Four Stars. There are over a thousand reviews and most of them are four and five stars. 

I have just enough money from my severance package and meager savings to take this trip and cover about a month’s expenses, if I’m careful. I shouldn’t do it. But I am clicking on “BOOK NOW” and entering my credit card number before I know what comes over me. There is a nonrefundable booking fee to reserve the room. Can’t back out now. I don’t want to lose that money, I reason with myself. I book a suite for four nights--the most I can convince myself to spend. Hopefully, five days and four nights overlooking the ocean will heal my frazzled mind. The ocean has always been my happy place, even when I was very young. Before life fell apart. Before my brother and I became orphans. Maybe that’s why I am so drawn to it now--it feels like a piece of my old life can be resurrected for a few days. And maybe a little peace wouldn’t hurt either. 

I don’t waste time. My booking is for tonight; my flight leaves in two hours. I need to pack. I throw some clothes in a weekender bag that used to belong to my mom--the only thing I have left of hers. I check my vanity for my makeup and hair cream. Although I doubt I will wear much makeup. I’m not going on this vacation to impress anyone. My tired blue eyes stare back at me in the mirror. My washed out complexion reminds me that I need the sunshine. That makes me feel a little better about the money I just spent. I need this. I tell myself. I tie my curly brown hair into a quick ponytail and check the vanity one more time. Everything I need is in one bag. I’m out the door. 

I wake up on the plane. Where am I? I feel strange. I keep falling asleep and losing chunks of memory from these horrible headaches. The lady in the seat next to me gives me a dirty look. I give her a puzzled one back. What’s her problem? 

Maybe I should take Ben’s advice and go to the doctor about the migraines. He says I sometimes don’t sound like myself. I tell my brother he can come check on me himself if he’s so concerned. He hangs up every time. I don’t know why I keep taking his calls. God knows he didn’t help me when I needed it most—to escape that hell hole called a foster home.

But we got out. Or he did. I was stuck for another year. I didn’t hear from Ben until the next summer. By then, I wasn’t taking his calls any more. The first six months after he left I was desperate to hear his voice. When day after day passed with no word, I slowly gave up hope. Then, I got angry. 

I worked so hard to get my life together after he left. I got my GED, got a fairly good job at an advertising company. I’m just working as an admin right now, but I have--had—the ability to move up, make more money. Then out of the blue, the pink slip. NOTICE OF TERMINATION. For the life of me, I cannot figure out what went wrong. The reasons listed on my notice were like they were written about someone else. “Frequently comes in late.” What the heck? I am always on time!.”Lying to coworkers.” Again, no clue where that came from. I cannot recall a single instance where I lied to a coworker or friend. Especially not anything worth getting fired over. “Yes, Michelle, your suit is pretty” is a lie, but it’s a nice one, right?

The plane hits some turbulence and the captain’s voice comes over the intercom.

“We are experiencing slight turbulence. Please fasten your seatbelts.” The seatbelt light flicks on. I fasten my seatbelt and try to turn off the voices in my head. You always mess up. You’re worthless. 

I grip the arms of my seat as the plane gently rocks. The stupid headache is back. I lean my head back and close my eyes. 

When I come to, I’m standing in front of baggage claim. I cannot recall how I got here, but I chalk it up to my extreme fatigue and aching head. I grab my bags and head to the restroom. After using the facilities, I splash cold water on my face and readjust my hair tie. I pop an aspirin. Next, I check the hotel's itinerary and see that they provide a car service from the airport to the hotel. All I have to do is call the number and someone will be there within an hour to pick me up. I make the call and decide to grab a coffee from the airport Starbucks. I sink down in a cafe chair with my coffee, feeling more tired than ever even though I had several naps on the plane. 

Almost exactly an hour later, a car arrives with the hotel’s name in giant letters on the side. DEETJEN’S BIG SUR INN.

“Miss Evans?” the skinny driver asks. He looks to be in his late sixties. His voice is gravelly, but his brown eyes are kind. 

“That’s me,” I reply. “What’s your name?”

“Charlie. Welcome to Big Sur. Can I take your bags?” he asks.

I hold up my weekender. “This is it. I’ve got it.”

He smiles and says, “Okay then, hop in. It’s an hour and half drive before we get to the inn. Do you need to stop anywhere on the way?”

“No thanks. I just want to get checked in as soon as possible.”

“Yes, miss.” He jumps in the driver’s seat and we head out.

Thankfully my driver isn’t a conversationalist. I lean my head back and promptly fall asleep. 

A gentle shake to my shoulder wakes me up. We’ve arrived at the inn.

Claire

I hear the hotel car pull up outside. Deetjen’s is a small but quaint hotel tucked into the mountainside of Big Sur. Across the highway is a steep cliff overlooking the Pacific. Every room’s door is outside. The room I’m in has oriental rugs and a cute book nook complete with a window seat. The ceilings are low, adding a cozy feel, and the dark wood panelling makes it seem like you’re in a cabin in the woods. I’ve checked out the living space, the tiny kitchenette and both bedrooms. I’ve been here about an hour and I’ve spent half of that checking out every nook and cranny. 

I know the inn is full so I’m guessing that’ll be my suitemate.

I decide to watch some TV before I meet her.

Julie

I put my key in the lock and turn. Even the keys are old fashioned. The metal slips in my hand and it takes two tries before I get the mechanism to unlatch. I push the door open. The room is dark, but the TV is on. That’s weird. I call out to Charlie who is striding to the main office. 

“Are you sure this is my room, Charlie?” The TV is turned up so loud, I know he can hear it too.

Charlie gives me a strange look.

“Pretty sure, miss.” He replies sarcastically.

I don’t remember this at all. I’m starting to think these headaches are more than migraines. 

I must look unsettled because Charlie offers a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“Don’t worry about leaving it on. It happens to me all the time!” He gives a laugh.

“Maybe” I answer weakly. I don’t have any memory of turning on the TV. Then again, I don’t have much memory of lots of things over the past several months. Maybe Ben was right. I should call a doctor. I promise myself that I will as soon as I return home. 

Claire

What is taking her so long? She’s just standing in the doorway. 

“Hello?” No answer. 

“Close the door, for gosh’s sake! It’s letting out all the air.”

The door slams and I go back to my show. In my peripheral, I check out the new girl. She looks normal to me, if a little weary and frumpy. She is wearing baggy jeans and a rumpled tshirt. 

“I’m Claire. I took the back bedroom. You can have the front one.” I point a finger in the direction of the smaller bedroom. “Don’t touch my stuff and don’t bother me and I won’t bother you.” I stare at the girl, trying to get my point across. I realize I’m gruff and rude, but I don’t care. I didn’t come here to make friends. 

She looks dazed as she says, “OK” and then stumbles in the direction of the front bedroom.

I wonder how this is going to work out and if I should have asked for my money back. I didn’t know when I booked the room that I’d be sharing the suite with a stranger. I head to my bedroom and shut and lock the door behind me. I’m exhausted from a long day of traveling. Before long, I fall into a deep sleep.

Julie

I stumble into the living room and shut the front door. The TV is still blaring. I finally shut it off after fumbling with the remote. The room is plunged into silence. I feel a presence in the room with me although I can’t see anyone. I whirl around. Nothing. I check the bathroom. No movement. I know I’m probably overreacting to leaving my TV on, but I decide to check the entire suite to make myself feel better. I head to my room first. Nothing is amiss that I can tell. I move to the empty bedroom. The bed is disheveled as if someone slept there the night before and didn’t make it up. Maybe housekeeping forgot to check this room? Someone’s bag is hanging in the closet. I pick it up and examine it for a luggage tag. Claire Evans. I drop the bag as if it had stung me. Evans. What are the odds that the previous guest had the same last name as me? 

My heart is beating so hard, I’m afraid it’s going to jump out of my chest. I tell myself to calm down. Evans isn’t the most unique name in the world. I’m not sure what to do. Someone has clearly been here. Did housekeeping just forget to clean up before renting the room to me? But why would this Claire person leave behind her bag? And all of her belongings? It’s like she just stepped out and will be back any minute. And why would Charlie lie to me? I can feel another headache coming on. I stumble to the couch and sink down into the oversized cushions.

Claire

“Julie!!!!” I bellow. I know she’s been in my room. I survey my belongings which are scattered all over the bed. My Vera Wang duffle has been dropped carelessly on the floor. Ugh. This is exactly what I was afraid of when I decided to keep these reservations--a total lack of privacy.

I hear Julie pad timidly to the doorway. Her face looks so apprehensive that I back down. But not much.

“What the heck are you doing in my room??? I told you to stay OUT!” I glare at her, but she has that glazed over look in her eye again.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you on something?” I ask a little more quietly. My brother struggled with drug addiction when he was younger and I’ve seen that kind of stare before. 

“N-n-n-oo” she stutters. 

“No? Then why were you in my room? Touching my things?”

No answer. I roll my eyes and tell her to get out. If this keeps up, I’m kicking her out. I double check to make sure Julie didn’t take anything. 

I put everything back like I had it and head over to the main office to file a complaint. 

The bell over the door jingles when I walk in.

The clerk at the desk looks up and smiles.

“How may I help you?”

“I’d like to file a complaint against my roommate. She has been acting very strange. Today she went through my things and scattered them all over my room. I want her out.”

The clerk isn’t smiling anymore. In fact, his large face looks taken aback. Almost shocked. He has brown eyes that widen with pity. He brushes his longish dirty blonde hair out of his face. 

“Miss, you’re the only one staying in your room.”

“I can’t bel---” I stop mid-rant. “What did you say?”

“You’re the only one staying in room 21.” He looks at me with wariness. 

“That’s not true. Why would you make up a lie like that? I met my roommate. Her name is Julie. She has been invading my privacy by going through my things!” By this point I am shouting. I want to slap him. I cannot believe that a hotel this nice would have a clerk this addle-brained. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down.

Charlie comes in through the back to see what the fuss is about. 

“Charlie, please tell--” I peer at the clerk’s name tag. Josh. “Please tell Josh that I have a suitemate. Named Julie. You picked her up at the airport and brought her to the inn.” 

Charlie looks at Josh. Josh looks at Charlie. They share a glance that I can’t quite decipher. 

Charlie lowers his voice. “Hey, let me see how I can help. What’s your name again? Claire? or Julie?”

Is he serious? I want to scream. I’ve told them my name and the name of the annoying girl staying in my room. Why aren’t they understanding?? I try to calm down, but I am seeing red. I storm out of the office.

Julie

When I wake up, I am in the front office and Charlie and Josh are staring at me like I’ve grown horns. 

“What-what happened?” I ask, even though I am scared of the answer. 

“You really don’t remember?” Charlie asks softly.

“No. I had a headache so I laid down on the couch. I’ve been getting migraines. When I woke up, I was over here,” I say anxiously. Suddenly, I recall the strange feeling of a presence in the room with me and the belongings of another guest, Claire. “And I guess I wanted to come ask y’all about the guest who stayed before me. She left all of her belongings. Her luggage tag says her last name is Evans--just like mine.” I laugh nervously. 

Charlie looks at me worriedly and asks if there is anyone he can call for me. I don’t understand the question. 

“I don’t need you to call anyone for me. I just wanted to get Claire’s belongings back to her.”

What Josh says next, gives me a chill all the way down my spine. 

“Miss, no one else has been in room 21 for months. It was just renovated and you are the first guest to stay there. It’s just you.”

I stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“What does that mean? Who is Claire?” I ask quietly.

Charlie asks again if there is anyone he can call for me.

“Claire? Julie?” he looks at me.

“Yes?” I ask in fear.

“I think you are very confused right now. Who can I call?”

Reluctantly I give him Ben’s number. He’s the only family I have in the world even though we aren’t on good terms.

Ben

“Thank you for calling me.” I shake hands with Charlie and Josh and lead Julie to the door. Thank goodness it’s Julie right now. Claire isn’t so compliant. She is quiet as we gather her things and place them in the car.

“Where are we going?” she asks sullenly.

“Home.” I say. No need to go into details; she will remember soon enough. It’s always like this. The trigger. The mental breakdown. The escape. The call. The return. I sigh deeply. Taking care of Julie has become a full time job. It’s time I got more help even though she refuses to call the doctor herself. I’ll have to do it without her consent. The thought makes me so sad that I almost choke on the lump in my throat. 

I glance in the rearview mirror and see that Julie has fallen asleep. It’s a long drive home. I wish I could have flown, but not knowing how Julie will react on a plane makes driving easier. And besides, the driving clears my mind. 

We hit a pothole and Julie jerks awake. 

“What the heck are you doing here? And where are we going?” Gone is the quiet, compliant Julie. Angry violent Claire is in her place.

“Hello to you too, Claire.” I say, gritting my teeth. If I’m lucky, this episode won’t last long. Being Claire takes all of Julie’s mental energy so she is usually short lived. 

Cursing fills the back seat. I hope she wears herself out before she tries to do something foolish like jump out of the car. I decide to turn the music up to drown out the cursing. With the music turned up, the tears roll down my face.