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And there was no Do Not Disturb sign
     on the door.”
    She was wearing a black outfit with white buttons and a lace collar. The outfit looked like a modified French maid’s uniform.
     It went well with her dark hair and eyes. Her name tag read Teresa. Teresa’s eyes still asked for forgiveness. Carlton wondered
     if his did the same.
    “I came to do turndown,” she explained.
    “Turndown?”
    The room attendant extended her uniformed arm toward the bedspread, only to notice it wasn’t there. Carlton saw her look of
     confusion.
    “The bedspread got wet,” he explained. “I had to hang it up in the bathroom.”
    “I can get you a new one—”
    “No,” he interrupted. “That won’t be necessary.”
    “How about your good-night goodies, then?”
    Teresa seemed anxious to please, Carlton thought. But that didn’t help him to understand what she was talking about. She took
     his silence as assent, though, and said, “I’ll get them from my welcome wagon.”
    She was gone before Carlton could refuse, returning a few moments later with a tray that had two covered bowls of strawberries,
     some packets of brown sugar, and a creamer.
    Carlton still looked confused.
    “Strawberries and cream tonight,” said Teresa. “Or if you prefer, I can get you cookies and milk.”
    “The strawberries are fine,” Carlton said.
    When she finished setting up, Teresa turned to Carlton and asked, “Would you like Teddy tonight?”
    Teddy, he thought. What was she talking about? He raised his hands, signaled that he wasn’t sure, and Teresa smiled. She had
     yet to meet the man who could come right out and make that admission. “Why not?” she asked.
    “Why not?” repeated Carlton.
    Teresa went to her welcome wagon once more and this time returned with a teddy bear. Its arms were closed around a heart-shaped
     chocolate that bore the words
Suite Dreams.
She placed the stuffed animal in Carlton’s hands.
    “Thank you,” he said, albeit a bit uncertainly.
    “Will you be needing a second one?” Teresa knew that two people were registered to the room.
    “No, thank you.”
    She offered a bright smile. “Good night, then, Mr. Stern.”
    Carlton almost winced at the name. “Good night,” he said.
    Teresa closed the door softly behind her.
    People keep coming to the room and giving me things, thought Carlton. He had never been religious, but he thought that if
     there were a heaven, it should be a place like this. For a moment he was happy, but then he remembered what he had done.
    He gave his teddy a troubled squeeze.

VI
    She was an ant, Am decided. Definintely an ant.
    As a child he had watched a cartoon version of Aesop’s fable of the hardworking ant and the devil-may-care grasshopper. Am
     found the grasshopper a much more appealing character than the self-righteous prig of an ant. What might have played in Peoria
     didn’t translate to the Golden State. He figured the grasshopper’s big mistake was not living in San Diego, where winters
     equated to an occasional sweater, not a grim outlook on life.
    At least Sharon wasn’t an ant masquerading in grasshopper’s clothing, a condition Am feared was overtaking him. It had been
     months since he had waxed his surfboard. And he couldn’t remember the last time he had downed a margarita in Old Town, or
     cracked open a lobster in Puerto Nuevo, or unpacked a picnic basket in Balboa Park, or taken in a sunset off Sunset Cliffs.
     A friend had once told him that not having fun in Southern California was a felony charge, and if convicted, you were sent
     to live in New Jersey. Maybe he could plead temporary insanity.
    He doubted whether Sharon would disagree with that assessment. Am sneaked a glance at his passenger. She was less than pleased
     to be accompanying him to the security hut. When he had commandeered a utility motor-cart and announced their destination
     she had responded, “I can hardly wait to learn the anatomy of a missing hotel towel.” Am was pressing