After the ninth turn, I’m directed into a small development of houses ... huge houses, that sit right on thewaterfront.
Whoa. This explains the generous summersalary.
I pull up the long driveway covered with smooth beach pebbles, hearing my tires crunch and crackle against the rocks. Looking at my phone once more, I see I somehow managed to get here one minute early. That works for me, aside from the scalding hot coffee spilled all over me. I always believe in starting with a great first impression.Excuse me while I use your bathroom, you know, since it looks like I Just peed myself in my car. It’s so nice to meet you, nice person who is paying me money to care for your child when I can’t care formyself.
I jump out and race up the front steps while tossing my purse over my shoulder, trying to wipe some of the excess coffee off myself with a handful of napkins.Soattractive.
The door opens as I’m reaching for the bell, and my new boss, Samantha, who is draped in form fitting yoga clothes that had to have been designed for a sixteen-year-old girl, greets me with a hearty smile. And a hug. Not just any hug, but the kind where her springy blonde ponytail whips me in the face. Samantha embraces me as if we’re long lost friends or relatives, and it’s mildly weird. “I’m so glad you made it here in one piece. I was nervous for you driving all that way alone. I could never do it. I’d fall asleep at the wheel. Gosh.” She releases her grip and tugs me into her house and I’m taken aback by the décor. By the looks of the exterior, I was expecting everything to be lavishly covered in marble and glass, but it’s almost the opposite. It’s homey, with neutral painted walls, half carpeting, and half hardwood floors. There are framed family photos strategically placed in different corners, and the scent of aromatic candles fill the air. It’scomforting.
“Your house is beautiful,” Itellher.
“Oh,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s home. It took a while to make it feel that way, but I loveithere.”
“You must be exhausted from that trip,” she says. Nodding her head for me to follow her, she walks into the massive kitchen with a view of an outdoor kitchen and an archway that deceivingly looks like the entrance to the waterfront at thisangle.
While staring out into the vast landscape of blues and greens, my senses are overwhelmed as I smell something deliciousbaking.
The biting pain in my stomach quickly reminds me that in my frantic race to get here, I didn’t take one bite of my Danish nor did I get even a sip of coffee in my mouth. As if the stain on my legs and the ache in my stomach wasn’t already making me uncomfortable, it rumbles loud enough to interrupt her tour of the kitchen. “Oh, gosh, are you hungry?”sheasks.
“I got a little lost this morning, and—I actually left my breakfast inthecar.”
She looks down, spotting the coffee stain. “Oh, I’m sosorry!”
“Here,” she says, handing me some paper towels to clean myself up with. “Let me get you something to eat.” Taking a pair of oven mitts that are hanging from the side of fridge, she opens the oven, bringing forth the scent of freshly baked muffins, I almost lose control and drool again for the second time this morning. God, I’m famished. How did I do this tomyself?
Gabbing away about the house and her husband, Samantha places the muffins on a cooling rack. “You bake?”Iask.
She laughs quietly beneath her breath. “God did not grace me with thattalent.”
“Oh, so your husband is the baker?” I continue, trying my hardest to makesmalltalk.
She laughs again, not so quietly this time. “Oh, God, I love that man, but he does not know how to turn on astove.”
“Oh,” I say, kind of waiting for her to answer the first two questions with an answer other than no. Those muffins are literally staring at me. My stomach is screaming louder, and it may turn into a fire-breathing dragon in a matter of seconds if I don’t eatsomething.
“I work so many hours during the day, and Daniel works just as much, if not more, so I’m afraid we don’t have much time to do a lot of the housework. Now that Dylan is old enough for his junior lifeguard training in the mornings, it’s one less thing to worry about, but he still needs supervision there, and then the afternoon hours too, of course. His classbeginsat—”
“Nine, Monday through Friday,” I finish her sentence, reminding her of the conversation we had on the phone just two weeks ago. I want her to know I was beingattentive.
“Right,” she says with a grin. “Anyway, since there is so much to do around here it seems, we have a gentleman who works with us, as well. He does the cleaning, cooking, and everything else I seem to slack onmostdays.”
“Oh, I see.” I guess finding out that I won’t be working here alone during the day isn’t what I expected. Not that it’s a problem, but I had imagined how this might go, and that wasn’t part of my visions. I wring my fingers around my wrist, twisting nervously as I’m now unsure about other expectations or surprises she didn’t warn me about. I just like to be prepared and not thrown into a situation. “So, the man will be here during the day with me andDylan?”
She reaches over to a cabinet and retrieves a small dish, placing a muffin on top. I stop myself from lunging at her like a hungry lion and wait until she offers me the plate. “Thank youverymuch.”
“To answer your question, yes, but honestly, he keeps so busy, you’ll hardly notice him. He’s quiet, but Dylan seems to have a great relationship with him, so we like to keep him around.” I fill my mouth with pieces of the warm muffin as I ponder how this will all play out. “He’s been with us for almost three years now.” Yup, so basically, she will have a set of eyes on me, reporting every little thing I do. What if I screw up or say the wrong thing? Maybe I’m overreacting. It’s a job. I can handleakid.
“Can I show you to your room?” she asks, as I swallow the rest of the muffin practicallywhole.”
“Yes, please,” I mumble with my mouth full.Nice touch. It’s like I was raised in a barn ... I mean, I kind of was, but I havemanners.
We hike up a long flight of stairs that takes us into an open breezeway. The windows run from the ceiling to the floors and they’re open like French doors along the hall. I would do just about anything to sit here and write all day. “We built these into the house. Aren’t they great?” She seems modest, but proud at the same time. Clearly, they’re both hard workers, andloaded.
“I love this. You must have a nice breeze right here all day,” I offer as acompliment.
“From May through September, yes, ma’am.” Where the breezeway ends, Samantha stops in front of a slightly open door. “Here you go.” She presses the door open and waves me in. The room is taupe colored with floor and ceiling crown molding, and is brightly lit with an abundance of natural light streaming in through another set of French doors, serving as windows that overlook the water. Holy crap. “You have your own bathroom right over there too.” I walk in past the bed, then the dresser decorated with a beautiful rustic teal vase settled off to one side, rather than in the center. I consider shifting it, but that would be rude and slightly overbearing for being in this woman’s house for less than twenty minutes. I ignore the off-centered vase and continue over to the bathroom where Samantha is waving me over. Stepping inside of the massive full bath suite, decked out with a double sink vanity, a shower, and— “What the ... !” —I didn’t mean to startle at the sight of a man scrubbing the jacuzzi tub, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting to seeanyone—”
“Liam?” Samantha calls through laughter. “I didn’t even realize you were in here.” She pushes by me and walks into the bathroom. “I’m sosorry.”
