Tentacle Resolutions

“You won’t see them, or any of their guests, or anything else like that,” Marty said quickly. “Honestly, pinky promise, they have their own private entrance. They never come into the lobby of the hotel. You won’t even know they are here, and they won’t be back at all until probably six the night of New Year’s Eve.”

“Marty! You promised. That’s the only reason I said I would come and do this for you, if they were away.” Sage was horrified. That was not what he’d agreed to. “Give me my papers back. I’m not doing this. You can’t make me.”

“Nope.” Marty could move fast if he needed to, disappearing around the desk and appearing behind a pile of tentacles. “You promised me you’d help me out.”

“One of the gargoyles can do it.”

“No they can’t. They’re security, this is reception. Gargoyles are not polite or patient so they can’t work on the front desk.”

“There has to be someone else who can do this. Or you could…”

Marty was already shaking his head. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen my mom and seventeen siblings all at the same time? Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve all been together in the one place? If I don’t go, if I can’t turn up because of work, it will literally break my mother’s heart. She’s been planning this since July. You wouldn’t do that to my mom, would you? She makes you socks every Christmas and wraps them up with a bow and everything even though she thinks wrapping is a waste of paper. If you can’t do this for me, do it for my mom. She loves you.”

And this is why Marty gets his own way every single time. He knows how to make me feel guilty. It didn’t help that Marty was telling the truth. His mom was the only one who sent Sage anything for Christmas – well, aside from the odd student who thought they could get a better grade by giving Sage gift cards to university libraries. That was all done under the guise of Christmas, but Sage knew the meaning behind those so-called gifts.

Marty’s mom though had welcomed Sage into her home when his household had been an unsafe space, and encouraged him through his studies. Marty’s mom had been the loudest person cheering when he graduated. His actual parents didn’t bother to turn up for that, but she did, along with Marty and six of his siblings.

“Fine. Although, if your mom has been planning this since July, then that would’ve given you plenty of time to get your shifts covered, instead of waiting until December and hoping people would change their holiday plans.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Marty was a ‘do things at the last minute’ type of person.

“Tell me again,” he said through gritted teeth. “When do the owners of this fine establishment typically get back from their holiday getaway? To the hour. I don’t expect to the minute, but I need to know the day and hour so I can be prepared.”