Bubbles spilled over the edge of the sink, dripping down to the white tiled floor. The kitchen smelled like spoiled lemons and pizza grease, and that was exactly what I felt like, wiping the sweat from my forehead with a soapy arm. The other dishwasher pursed his lips at the sight of me pausing again. Wouldn't be long before they'd fire me.
I'd been working there for two weeks now, after a friendly woman from the Rainbow Cactus had set up the gig for me, but I'd known from the start I wouldn't last long. Although visibly, my cerebral palsy only affected my legs and made me walk kind of limpy, it did, in fact, influence my arms too, although much less so. Jobs that required working with your hands all day, like this one, exhausted me quickly: only a few hours into it, my muscles would go stiff and tight and even hurt nearing the end of a shift. Like Ma would say: Jessie was made for the finer things in life because a real job would be the end of her.
The door to the kitchen swooped open, and the happy head of Aleema appeared from behind it. My stomach lurched. Two weeks, and I was already getting the sack. That must be some kind of record. "Jessie, honey," she said, in her deep, low voice, "I have a gorgeous woman here asking for you."
"What? Who?"
Aleema chuckled. "How many gorgeous women do you know? And where have you been hiding them?"
Despite all that happened in the last few weeks, my brother telling me he needed his couch back soon, my Mimi refusing me cash, and Lennox posting a picture on Instagram with a new girlfriend in The Netherlands, I managed to smile. "I can't tell you that. You'd all take them from me in a second."
Aleema was still laughing when I followed her into the dining room area, past cheap plastic furniture made to look like wood and a green plastic stick made to look like a Bird of Paradise. For a short moment, I hoped it would be Lennox — that she was back, realizing she made a mistake, and was ready to pick up where we left off. Only Aleema knew her and would've reacted very differently, so I had absolutely no idea what other gorgeous woman would come to see me.
Oh. That gorgeous woman.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Right there, waiting by the cash register, was none other than Elizabeth Canfield. Maybe it was because I knew her character, but I would've never thought to describe her as gorgeous. Mean, cold, and icy, more like. Though, standing there in the fluorescent lights that usually made everyone's skin color unflattering, I could see what Aleema meant, with her solemn gaze, flawless hair falling down her back in waves, dark brows sharp and pronounced as she looked into the distance, her hands buried in the pockets of her beige woolen wrap coat. She was too elegant for a restaurant like this one, sticking out like a sore thumb. What on earth was she doing here?
"Well, you can have her," I blurted out. "I really don't know if I want to see her again."
At that moment, though, her gaze shot in my direction, and, spotting me, she stood up straight, chin in the air, as if readying herself for a fight. Alright. Too late. Best get on with this. I approached her, trying to look fierce, but fact remained I was the one here in an apron speckled with pizza sauce and melted cheese, and she was the one who had coordinated her earrings with her shoes.
"Hello, Jessie," she said, her eyebrow arching slightly as she took in my appearance.
"Hello, ma'am," I answered. I was blushing again, furiously this time, even though I had no reason to. "Are you here... to see me?"
She stepped closer and said, with a straight face: "No, I just happened to be in the neighborhood."
I stared at her, my mouth half-open. What was happening? Had she just... made a joke?
When I didn't respond, she cleared her throat, throwing a glance over her shoulder as if she was searching for any excuse not to have to talk. "I err — have been trying to call you, but you seemed to have changed your number."
"Oh, no, it's been disconnected. Couldn't pay the bill."
Something in her face tightened, like it physically annoyed her to hear about someone else's money troubles, and I would've walked away then and there if I wasn't so curious about her motives. "Your brother told me I could find you here," she continued, like I'd never said anything. "I have an offer to make you."
"Hell no."
An almost deranged laugh escaped me, and I made to turn around. Working for her again... yeah, right. I had more self-respect than that.
"The girls have asked for you," she said, and immediately, I stopped. She took a deep breath, then added through her teeth: "It seems you've made an impression. They've already chased two of the new ones away. Well, Ari has."
My heart swelled in my chest, warming my numb fingertips. They hadn't forgotten about me after all. In fact, it seemed that at least Ari had missed me, and who knows, maybe Camille did too. Against my will, I smiled, thinking of the five of us in the zoo, Ari running from enclosure to enclosure like a monkey on speed.
"Funny. I seem to remember you weren't very happy with my nanny-ing at all."
"That's right," she said, without flinching. "You turned up out of nowhere and took my kids to the zoo."
"Well, you're the one who agreed to let me watch them in the first place. I didn't make you, you know."
It seemed like she was having a hard time swallowing some undoubtedly unkind comments, breathing deeply in through her nose. "Maybe this was a mistake." She touched her temple lightly, shaking her head, then looked up again. "Do you even have any professional experience as a sitter?"
I shrugged. Bit late to ask that question now. "Not professional, no. But I've looked after my four younger brothers a lot over the years, and last year I had to take care of my ex's nephew for a while."
She let out a deep sigh, then gestured aimlessly. "I won't say I'm thrilled about this. But... it's in the best interest of the girls. They seem to trust you, for some reason."
Even now, she spoke of them like they weren't hers, like they'd just fallen out of the sky someday. No matter how much I liked her kids, I didn't know if I could stand being around her so much of the time.
"It's 788 a week," she went on, like she'd heard me thinking. "And you'd live with us, so you could move out of your brother's. We could do a month on a trial basis."
I had already opened my mouth to say 'no', when I realized what it would mean: my own room, no living expenses, and the possibility to save up for a down payment on a roach-free apartment. It could be just what I needed to get back on my feet. That was a shit ton of money. I wasn't going to get an income like that anywhere by washing dishes.
I looked her up and down again, this gorgeous ice queen, chasing me down to ask me to take care of her kids. If I took her out of the equation, it would be the perfect job. Let's face it: I had no degree, no experience in a particular field, and my plans for the future were ruined when Lennox had broken up with me. We were supposed to have taken over her parents' restaurant together — though judging by the picture of that Dutch girl in her neon bikini, chances of that happening now were below zero.
"Before I say yes," I said, "you need to know something about me." She nodded for me to continue, tapping her finger impatiently. "I'm gay."
She frowned, but not in a repulsed way — no, more like she was puzzled. "Look," she said, and already she sounded annoyed again, "I know you don't like me, but I'm not a bigot. I couldn't care less if you're gay or straight or..." She waved instead of naming any other possibilities, and I wondered if she even knew what half the letters in LGBTQIA+ stood for. I'd bet my last forty dollars on it she didn't.
"No need to be offended. I've been discriminated for it before. I wasn't about to waste my time again." And, honestly, she could've just as well been one of those up-tight upper-class old-world moms.
"Does that mean you're saying 'yes'?"
Although I wanted to pretend I was still thinking about it, in reality, I already knew full well I was going to accept. The kids were great, the pay was out of this world compared to other sucky jobs I was qualified for, and I probably wasn't going to see that much of Elizabeth Canfield anyway. Why else would she need a nanny?
She watched me expectantly, dark eyes inspecting me like an eagle. It made me uneasy, so finally, I said: "Yes. Fine. I'll do it. It's not like scraping off somebody else's leftover pizza crusts is my dream job."
For the first time, it seemed I'd managed to put a ghost of a smile on her face, only I had no idea if that was because of my joke or because she'd accomplished her goal. "Good. When can you start?"
Before I could answer, Aleema butted in, strutting from around the corner: "Today," she said, an unusually large grin on her face. "She's a shitty dishwasher anyway."