Joy Cums in the Morning

Christmas was only two days away and Joy Grady had managed to land herself in a rundown motel in Hoboken, New Jersey. She should have been at home with her family, but she was too damned stubborn for her own good! Why did she have to pitch a bitch-fit when her mother gave William's fiancé, Lashaunda her room for the week? She should have just let the shit go!

"Why the hell did you put that skinny bitch in my room?" she'd snapped at her mother.

Two hours on a plane, forty minutes in a musty cab, and slipping and sliding up the walk to her mother's house had left her in a foul mood.

"Excuse me?" Terri Grady answered slamming down her stirring spoon. Collard green bits flew onto the beige granite counter top. Her black and gray hair was pulled back in a loose bun, making her pointed glare even more severe.

"Lashaunda is in my room!" Joy snapped.

"First of all, it's not your room. You've been gone for six years, technically, it's a guest room."

Joy frowned. "She's William's guest. Let her sleep in his room!"

"He's sleeping in there!" Terri said.

"So what?" Joy exclaimed.

"They're not married."

"Omigod, ma! Are you kidding me? They share an apartment in the city. They're already sleeping together!"

Her mother sighed heavily.

"You always do this shit!" Joy screeched crossing her arms roughly.

"What are you on about now?" her mother sighed.

"He's the youngest, the only boy, and he always gets what he wants! He gets to take over this entire house because he's the favorite!"

"Joy!" her older sister Marla snapped as she entered the tiny kitchen. "Everyone can hear you! Why are you making such a big deal about this?"

"Easy for you to say!" Joy said rounding on her sister, "You get to sleep in your own room!"

"If you hadn't been the last one to arrive, you'd have your room and someone else would be on the couch."

"Don't even!" Joy snapped stabbing a finger in Marla's direction. "All of us can't afford to hop a jet whenever we feel like it!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Marla exclaimed.

"Enough!" Terri snapped.

"I'm sick of her coming here making everyone miserable!" Marla practically yelled.

"Well, I'm sick of coming home and feeling like an outsider! I don't even know why I bother!" Joy screeched.

"Then LEAVE!" Marla challenged.

"Marla Louise Grady!" Terri snapped.

"No, ma, she's right. I'm leaving!"

Terri begged Joy not to go. Marla called her a taxi. William helped her carry her bags to the car, Lashaunda refused to leave the bedroom, and Gramma Grady rocked slowly and mumbled her opinion to the television that was playing her soap opera.

Joy was even angrier when she attempted to get a room at two hotels to be rebuffed by no vacancies. Finally, the taxi pulled into a motel that made her cringe. The entire building was painted baby blue with brown doors lined up on all three stories. The paint was peeling; the glass doors that led into the lobby were fingerprinted and smudgy. The Middle Eastern guy behind the bullet-proof glass, at the check-in desk was less than enthused helping her, and the cab driver took her fifty dollars and peeled out of the parking lot so fast he doused her jean-clad legs with snow slush.

Joy lugged the suitcases up to the second floor, one rickety metal step at a time, and pulled it across the concrete landing to Room 214.

Her anger dissolved into tears when she stepped into the room. It smelled like a sealed attic and second-hand smoke. The tacky floral bedspread was covered with stains, and the carpet was a nondescript brown. It was difficult to tell if it was supposed to be brown or if it was just that dirty. She pulled back the heavy burgundy curtains and turned on the heating unit below the window. She glanced around the parking lot at the rundown cars and litter that decorated the parking lot.

"Merry-fucking-Christmas," she muttered yanking the curtains closed with a woosh.

***

That night, after showering while trying not to touch the tiled wall around her, she pulled on a pair of low cut black satin pants and a black lace camisole. She stared at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser and sighed. Joy and her siblings all looked exactly alike, milk chocolate brown skin, dark almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and slender frames. For some reason, Joy was shorter than her sister and brother. She had accepted that her brother was taller, he was a man, after all, but she was jealous that Marla stood a good five inches above her own 5'6" height.

It just didn't seem fair that Joy was short like their mother while Marla enjoyed a short-lived modeling career that afforded her an apartment in Manhattan and a string of wealthy boyfriends. Joy told herself that Marla was just eye candy and most of the guys probably dated her because she photographed well in the gossip rags. Yet, that didn't make her feel better. Marla was living like a princess while she was a librarian at a small college in Virginia. She'd do just about anything to have Marla's charmed, exciting life.

"At least I've got bigger boobs and some hips," she muttered before turning away from the mirror.

A Seinfeld rerun blared in the background as she checked the voicemail on her cell phone. There were two messages from her mother. The first asked when she'd be back to the house.

"Newsflash, mom," she mumbled, "I'm not going back!"

The second from her mother asked if she planned on spending anytime with her family during the visit. It was Christmas, after all. "Tried that already," she mumbled. "I'm over it."

Joy gazed around the dingy room and sighed. She wished she could just buy a plane ticket home and not have to wait for her return flight in three days. If she was dating a professional baseball player like her sister, she could afford it. If she was the spoiled baby in the family like William, she could just ask her mom for the money. Joy shook her head hard.

There was one more message, from her friend Yasmin. "Girl!" Yasmin said quickly, she was always in a hurry, "I just got you the best present! I miss you. Call me, but don't ask what the present is because it's a surprise. Love ya!"

She tossed her cell on the nightstand and turned up the eleven o'clock news. A thin, balding black man was beginning the weather report when someone rapped sharply on her door. Joy jumped and dropped the remote.

"Police! Open up!"

The seizing of her heart made her gasp. They must have the wrong room, she thought taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.

The knock came again, this time louder. Her heart picked up its pace again. She crept to the window, leaning over the heating unit to pull back the stiff curtain. The pinched face of a thin, middle-aged cop in uniform was on the other side. He motioned for her to open the door and she quickly obeyed.

"Uh...can I help you?" she said to him and his overweight partner.

His watery brown eyes moved up and down her frame. She crossed her arms over her breasts and rubbed the chill bumps on her upper arms.

The thin man glanced at the clip board he held in his gloved hand and back at her. "Are you the only one in this room, Ms. Grady?"

Joy nodded, her eyes widening at his use of her name.

"Ma'am," the heavier officer, Hannigan his nametag read, said stepping forward. "We have a situation in the motel and we need to move all civilians to a safe location on the other side of the first floor."

Joy's eyes got even wider. "What's going on?"

The thin man, his badge read Polk, scratched something on his clipboard as he spoke. "Time is of the essence, please get a coat and shoes and follow us."

Joy's heart was pounding out of control. "Uh...okay." She pulled on her sneakers, picked up her purse, grabbed her black leather coat and moved to pick up her suitcases. "No time for that ma'am," the thin officer boomed.

Joy nodded and hurried to the door. She followed the officers down the stairs and around the side of the building. By the time the officers stopped at Room 101, Joy was shivering violently.

Officer Hannigan used a key to open the door and Joy walked past him inside the dimly lit room. "Wait here until we return for you," Hannigan said with a slight nod. Joy opened her mouth to protest, or at least ask how long it would be but shut it again when the door slammed shut.

She turned slowly to look at the dimly lit room and gasped when she spotted a red heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub sunken into the floor to her left. Yuck, she thought pulling off her coat and tossing it onto a small table.

"Nice, isn't it?" a gruff voice said from her right.

She snapped her head around and spotted an old man slumped in a beat up over stuffed chair. His hair was mostly gray and the pinch in his lips made it obvious he was missing quite a few teeth. His face was ruddy and pockmarked where it wasn't covered with white stubble. She gave a slight scream and lurched for the doorknob.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," another voice said, this one was female and when Joy looked for the source she saw a woman sitting on the edge of the bed. She was old and shrunken wearing a dress that was too big and clutching her large bag in her lap. She studied Joy with yellowed eyes and a slightly warm expression. "That bony policeman is liable have you arrested for opening that door."

Joy nodded. Her heart seemed to be slowing now that she realized that the old man wasn't the only one in the room. "I'm sorry; I thought I was in here alone."

A quiet laugh from a darkened corner caught her attention. She narrowed her eyes to try and get a look at whoever had laughed. He peered out the window, the shade hiding his upper body from view. All she could see was the hand holding it open, he was probably white she decided.

"You look cold, dear, come sit on the bed." Joy nodded and followed the old woman's instructions. "I'm Maybel," the woman said when Joy sunk onto the heart-shaped bed beside her.

"Joy," she muttered, "Pleased to meet you."

"Oh, same to you honey. That," she pointed to the man in the chair, "is my husband Walter and the young man by the window has yet to tell us his name."

At that the curtain fell back against the window and Joy forced herself not to gasp. He was so striking; her stomach did a quick flip-flop. The pizza she'd had delivered to her room earlier threatened to come back up.

He was tall, around 6'4" with broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist and muscular thighs evident in his slacks as he walked. His stride was long and confident and Joy found herself temporarily forgetting about the fact that she'd just gotten a police escort out of her room.

"Eli," he said walking toward the bed. His voice was a low rumble, like thunder on sunny summer day and equally surprising. If she hadn't been watching him when he'd spoke she would have looked around to see where that deep voice had come from.

"Ah," Maybel said, "short for Elijah."

He nodded and Joy stared. Eli lay back on the bed behind them with his hands under his head. His hair was chestnut brown and cut a bit too long so it almost fell in his startling emerald-green eyes. His jaw was squared, he had a full pink mouth, and he wore what she knew was a double-breasted black Hugo Boss suit only missing the tie.

"What are you doing here at Christmas?" Maybel asked Joy in that matronly way...nosy, but nice. "You don't have family you should be with?"

"No," Joy lied quickly. "How'd you get here?"

"Oh, we live here," Maybel said smiling.

"You live here?" Joy repeated, suddenly feeling very sorry for Walter and Maybel. She hadn't wanted to spend one night in that seedy motel, she couldn't imagine living there.

Maybel nodded.

"What about you?" Joy said turning to Eli. "What brings you here two days before Christmas?"

His eyes never left the ceiling when he answered. "I was on my way to London for business, but my flight out of Newark got cancelled. I didn't feel like spending the night in the airport so I decided to get a room and wait for tomorrow's flight, besides, I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Atheist?" Joy questioned.

"No, half Jewish."

"Oh," Joy said simply.

The room fell quiet and no one moved. Joy tried to ignore the panic that tried to overtake her as her mind ran through a million scenarios of what could have possibly happened to bring law enforcement down on the motel.

She ran down the laundry list: drug bust (doubtful, why would dealers operate out of a shitty place like this), meth lab (that could explode and kill them all), terrorist cell (always a fearsome prospect), or a robbery (but why would they have moved everyone out of their rooms for a stick-up job). After fighting a losing battle with her imagination, Joy couldn't take it anymore. She was scaring herself. Joy glanced at the alarm clock and frowned. It was after midnight...technically Christmas Eve.

"Does anyone know what's going on?" Joy finally asked, breaking the silence.

"No," Maybel said shaking her head slowly. "We were asleep when those policemen woke us up and brought us down here. I thought there was a fire or something, tried to get as much as I could in my bag before they rushed us out of the room." She patted the large canvas bag in her lap.

Walter shrugged.

"Why don't we turn on the television and see if there's anything on the news," Joy said standing up and opening the television cabinet. She moved around the room, her eyes scanning every flat surface for the remote control. "If this thing is anything like the one in my room, it won't even cut on without the remote," she said picking up her coat to look beneath it.

"I found it!" Eli said pulling the remote from under the bed. He switched on the set and began flipping through the local stations.

"Breaking news out of Hoboken," a slender Hispanic anchor woman said and his finger stilled. "There is currently a hostage situation at a motel on the south side. Police say their suspect is a man, currently holding his girlfriend and three year old son at gunpoint on the third floor."

"Oh God," Joy moaned grabbing her purse. "I have to call my mom!" She rooted around in the black bag for a few minutes before she realized that she'd left her phone upstairs in her room. "Oh God," she repeated. "I don't have my phone!" She picked up the phone on the nightstand and almost screamed when she heard dead air instead of a dial tone. She sunk onto the bed, her hands over her mouth.

Eli glanced at her before putting down the remote. A tear slid down her cheek and his heart clenched. He stalked across the room, sunk onto the bed beside her, and gathered her into his arms. She buried her face in his white shirt and cried quietly. He stroked her hair gently and pressed his lips against her forehead. "It's okay," he muttered.

He'd expected to feel awkward, holding a perfect stranger, but something about her being in his arms felt absolutely right. He'd been antsy to leave the room when the police officers had first left his there. When he'd turned from the window and seen Joy, in her pajamas that revealed so much skin, including the sexiest belly button he'd ever seen, all thoughts of escape were gone. All he could think was how lucky he'd been to wind up in the same room as this ebony goddess that looked so gorgeous...fearful, but gorgeous.

"That little boy must be so scared," Joy said miserably. Eli didn't respond until she looked up at him with her dark eyes round and wet. "You don't think he'll really kill them do you?"

"No way," he answered quickly. "This is a tough time of year for a lot of people." He nodded toward the chair where Walter had fallen asleep with his mouth open, behind him Maybel paced. Joy nodded; strangely comforted by his words even though they were probably empty.

"Teenie must be so frightened," Maybel said shaking her head.

"Who's Teenie? Is that the little boy's name?" Joy asked pushing away from Eli's broad chest to get a good look at Maybel.

"No. No." Maybel said wringing her knobby, veined hands. "Teenie is my tabby cat. She's my baby. All those lights must have her in a fit."

"Damn cat's probably climbing the curtains by now," Walter groused shifting in the chair.

"I've never been away from her this long," Maybel said, her voice catching.

Walter grumbled something indiscernible and Joy crawled off the bed to approach Maybel.

"Are you okay?" she asked reaching for the small woman.

"No. Teenie. I must get back to Teenie!" Her hands were clasped together and her eyes swam with tears.

"Walter!" Joy called. "I think Maybel might need some help!"

Maybel began to gasp for air and lean against Joy.

"I got her," Walter shifting Maybel's slight weight from Joy to him. "She's got some agoraphobia thing." He pulled her close to his side and picked up her bag. "I gotta get her back in the room before she gets one of her panic attacks. You guys have a good night."

Eli, who had been standing close-by, followed the couple to the door. He held it open as they shuffled through into the below-freezing night.

"Be careful," he said and Walter gave a sharp nod.

Joy flopped onto the bed spread-eagle. "You don't want to leave too?" she asked as Eli bolted and chained the door.

"I have nowhere else I'd rather be."

Ebony tore her gaze from his flirty grin to the mirrored ceiling above her. "You must really like looking at yourself," she said as Eli lay beside her. "You stared at this ceiling for about thirty minutes when I first got in here."

Eli's reflection smiled at her. "I wasn't looking at myself. I was looking down your shirt."

Joy rolled her eyes but felt her face flush.

She watched as his hand slid across the red comforter and fingered the ends of her curls.

"You're beautiful," he said letting her dark tresses slip through his fingers. He watched her mouth open and shut, at a loss for words. Her mouth was a cupids bow, Eli noticed, top lip slightly plumber than the bottom one. He wanted to taste them.

Joy blushed harder but sat up quickly as the Hispanic woman broke into the sitcom on television with an update.

"The latest news regarding the hostage situation in a motel on the south side of Hoboken has come in. While the hostages have been released, the gunman remains in the third floor room. Authorities say he was recently having a difficult time finding employment and panicked when his girlfriend attempted to leave and take their son to her family for the holiday."

Joy shook her head slowly. "I am such a bitch," she muttered.

"What?" Eli said.

"It's just...I lied about not having a family to be with. I'm supposed to be visiting them now, but I left. That girl just wanted to go home to her family for Christmas and I ran out on mine...all because I didn't get to sleep in my old room."

Eli ran a hand down her back and smiled. "You're not a bitch," he said leaning close brushing his lips against hers. "You just temporarily lost sight of what was important." His hand cupped her cheek as he kissed her again, more firmly.

Joy's eyes fluttered shut as she felt her body respond to his touch. What the hell are you doing? Her mind screamed. You just met this guy!

She pushed herself off the bed and took a few steps to distance herself from him and those lips. "What about you?" Joy snapped. "You're not with your family for Chanukah. You are on your way to England!"

Eli shrugged. "I'm one of the few executives in my company without a wife or kids. I already sent my mom and sister their gifts so when there was a last-minute glitch in a project, I grabbed my passport and my toothbrush and left."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Joy said, "See, I am a bitch!"

Eli laughed. He reached for her and grabbed her hand. He pulled her onto his lap. "You're beautiful," he whispered running his hand from her back, to her hips. He felt himself get hard as he traced her hourglass figure.