by Pepper Pace
One hundred forty eight dollars a day for eight hours work wasn’t anything she could sneeze at, even though she had every intentions of doing the proper withholding. Having a CPA for a mother had put the fear of the IRS in her.
Was she really considering working two jobs? The idea was daunting but being able to afford her insurance AND monthly car payment would be wonderful.
“It’s not a bad job if you make it work for you, and not the other way around. And there is always overtime. Also, go over and pick up your money, don’t let him mail it to you. It will take him days to put it in the mail.”
Robin nodded, thankful for the information. But she was simply too tired to pick up her money and instead she drove straight home. She collapsed into bed after kicking off her shoes, still fully clothed and was asleep within seconds.
Chapter 3
Robin drove to Ben’s office without calling first. After putting things into perspective she realized that she didn’t want to lose an opportunity to make that much money for eight hours of work. But she had to be smart about it.
Ben jumped up quickly when she entered the room. “Hey Robin. I hear you did great last night. Sorry about the mix up with the times. Here, have a seat.”
“I can’t. I need to leave. I just came to pick up my pay.”
He reached for a large ledger book. “You know I still haven’t replaced the other person.” Robin peeked at the check.
“That looks like you are about to write that for one hundred twenty-five dollars. But I did work eight hours and if I’m not mistaken that should be one hundred forty-eight.”
“One forty-eight?”
Robin frowned.
Ben smiled. “Sorry. My mistake.” He wrote her two checks. “So do you want the shift?”
“One until nine?”
“Midnight to nine.”
“That’s more than eight hours.”
“True, but it’s regular money.”
“How many days a week?”
“Monday thru Friday.”
“I want twenty-three fifty for each hour over eight that I work.”
“Ouch.” He smiled at her after a moment. “Pro-rated on fifteen minute intervals?”
She thought about that. “You have a deal.” Robin held out her hand and Ben shook it.
***
After work at the restaurant she went straight to Miss Lucille’s house. The Hispanic woman from the night before greeted her when she let herself in. Ben had given her a key and a log that she needed in order to chart her hours.
“Hi, Chica. Back again.” The woman headed for the kitchen where she had left her things and Robin followed her. “I guess you liked it, since you’re back. Are you on this shift permanently?”
“I think so.”
“Hard shift to work. How people stay awake is beyond me.” She gave her a brief, knowing look. “Do you have an alarm on your watch or cell phone? If so, set it. Oh yeah, Jodie was complaining that you didn’t do up the dishes at the end of your shift.”
Robin winced. “I wasn’t aware that we had to cook meals…”
The woman stopped. “We don’t.” She put her hands on her hips. “You can always tell that little old lady to go in and make her own breakfast.”
Robin’s face felt hot. “I don’t mind, as long as I know.”
“Also, it wouldn’t hurt to make up her bed.” The woman whisked past Robin. “Night night, Chica. See you tomorrow.”
With a relieved sigh that the other lady was gone, Robin went in and checked on Miss Lucille. The small, bird-like woman was sleeping peacefully.
Things ran much more smoothly now that she knew what to expect. She read until it was time to give her the first dose of medicine. Afterwards, she nestled down in the one armchair that Miss Lucille had used; the only one not covered in plastic. She took the girl’s advice and set her cell phone’s alarm to ring at 5:45 then she roused herself and set the eggs to boil and got the coffee going.
Miss Lucille was already awake when Robin walked into the bedroom and helped her to the restroom. While she peed, Robin turned off the eggs and set them in the sink to cool. She got her dressed while the older woman repeated the same story about her son the doctor, her grandkids and the woman’s group.
Robin set the TV tray up and brought the woman’s breakfast as she watched the television Evangelist. This was going a lot smoother. Robin smiled, stretched then went back to the bedroom. Yawning she began to make the bed before discovering that they badly needed changing. She squinted and looked around. The room was dusty. Did anyone actually come to clean?
“Miss Lucille, do you have a cleaning lady?”
The old woman gnawed on her toast, eyes glued to the TV “No.”
“Who does your laundry, the dusting and your shopping?”
“My son brings me one dozen eggs a week along with one loaf of bread. When the sugar, creamer and coffee runs out he buys more. He brings me seven chicken lean cuisines, and seven meatloaf Marie Callendars.” Robin retreated to the kitchen and checked the freezer. There were two chicken, and two meatloaf frozen meals left, as well as a tray of frosty ice cubes.
She checked the fridge for butter or jam. None. She checked the pantry. There were can goods that were years old, and spices that had dust on them. Yikes.
“Miss Lucille, who cleans?”
She turned her light grey eyes to Robin. “My son is a very busy man. He comes over and does the laundry for me once a month and does the dusting and vacuuming then.” Robin hid her doubtful look, but accepted the woman’s words.
Robin whisked away the dishes, washing them and replacing them quickly. She was on time with the next dosage of medicine. She still had another two hours so she returned to the bedroom, changed the bedding, and dusted the furniture. Poor old lady probably wouldn’t need oxygen if she could breathe past all of the dust!
Robin then returned to the living room and sat down on the couch, trying to keep her arms from sticking to the plastic. She tried to watch TV with Miss Lucille but it, more than anything else, made her sleepy. She thought about making small talk but the woman seemed very preoccupied with her show so Robin didn’t want to interrupt her. She picked up the book and began reading.
“What is that?” Miss Lucille was trying to see the cover. She reached out her hand for the book.
“It’s a story about a world where witches and vampires exist alongside of humans.”
Miss Lucille scowled. “That’s blasphemy!”
“Huh?”
Miss Lucille looked at the cover with disgust. “It’s probably all about sex; vile sex with devils.”
“No! Not at all.” She slipped the book out of the older women’s hands. “It’s just a story about a nice girl who was born a witch.”
“Hmph!” Miss Lucille snorted. Robin sighed and checked her watch. Just another half an hour.
Chapter 4
The next day when she went to Miss Lucille’s she carried a bag containing butter substitute and no sugar added jam. She spread butter and jam onto her morning toast and set the tray along with the two soft boiled eggs and coffee with sugar and cream. The tray went in front of the elderly woman before Robin hurried out of the room to make the bed.
When she returned, every bit of the toast had been eaten. Robin picked up the tray to carry into the kitchen to wash and Miss Lucille’s eyes moved from the television screen to stare at the young woman.
“Did my son bring that butter and jam?”
Robin paused. “I guess...”
Robin fell into her routine easily, despite the fact that she now had to eek out her sleep time during the part of the day when neighbors ran their vacuum cleaners and babies cried for breakfast and toddlers watched the same episode of Spongebob Square pants until she thought she’d jam a pencil into her ears if she had to hear that damned song one more time!
She went to Pinnacle each day to pick up her wages and when her bank account actually showed an amount that contained two zeroes
instead of one, Robin did a happy dance. Nothing could put a damper on her mood except one person; Mama.
The two women met for church each Sunday. It was a routine that was solidified after Daddy’s death. Mama wouldn’t have to keep hinting that she didn’t come by enough and Robin was undoubtedly saving her immortal soul each Sunday so it was killing two birds with one stone.
After the service, they went to brunch. Mama always treated so she always chose the location. “I’m planning a cruise to Jamaica this winter. I can use a vacation.” Betty spoke as she sliced into her Belgium waffles.
“That sounds like fun, Mom. You haven’t had a vacation in years.”
“Well, I want you to come with me.” Robin looked up in surprise. “I want to make it for seven days. I’ll pay, I just want us to…have some time together.” Her mother smiled nervously.
Robin’s food stayed frozen in her mouth. She didn’t want to be alone with her Mom for seven days.
“Take off work for seven days?”
“Well it will be months from now. If you ask now then I’m sure they will be able to accommodate you.”
“Well I just picked up a second, part time job.” She lied about it being part-time...and about it being ‘just’.
“Oh?” Betty picked up her glass of water and sipped while waiting with interest for her to continue.
“Yes, I started working at a home health care service; night shifts. But they are awfully short staffed-”
“Home healthcare?” She gave Robin a confused look. “You want to be a nurse?”
“No, no, not at all. All I do is monitor people in their homes-”
Betty sucked in a loud breath. “Are you telling me that you are going to people’s homes, taking care of them?”
Robin gave her a surprised look. “Well, I guess…”
“Jesus, Robin!” Betty threw down her napkin in annoyance. “It wasn’t bad enough that you work in a low paying, fast food restaurant, but now you want to wipe the asses of old white people, clean their houses, give them their medicine?!”
Everyone in Perkins turned to look at them; mostly white people and Robin wanted to sink in her seat.
“Mom, please…” She begged, hoping she’d calm down. She could already feel the familiar pounding of her heart in her chest and the way that the sweat was beading on her forehead was an indication that she was going to probably have a nervous attack, and she didn’t want to do it in front of Mama and all of these strangers.
“Oh Robin! You know…I give up!” Betty stood up and tossed several bills onto the table. “If you want your life to amount to nothing, then fine!” Hot angry tears sprouted in Robin’s eyes. She was shaking as she stood and followed her mother out of the restaurant. How dare she judge her! How dare she say that her life amounted to nothing!
“I…I give up too!” They were in the parking lot and Betty looked at Robin somewhat surprised. The hot tears made her colorful eyes big. “I wouldn’t WANT to spend seven days with you, okay?! The idea of it makes me sick, Mom. I’d rather spend seven days wiping Miss Lucille’s ass then in Jamaica with you!”
Robin got into her car and drove off, leaving her mother staring after her.
***
Robin sat slouched in her armchair in her small apartment, staring at the computer screen of her laptop. Nothing felt right to her anymore. She was just a simple person that wanted a simple life of no complications. How is it that she had killed the one relationship that meant anything to her?
It had been two weeks since she had spoken to her mother. She hadn’t even gone to church, her stomach was in knots and she was constantly in the bathroom with irritable bowel. She picked up her telephone before she could think of excuses not to, and dialed the familiar number. Her mother picked up on the second ring and Robin knew that she had checked the caller id before answering by the wary tone of her voice.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
There was a long pause. “I should never have yelled at you like that Robin.”
“I know that I am a disappointment to you-”
“I know I’ve made you think that-”
“I’m sorry, Mom, that I’m not outgoing and-”
“But you are perfect the way you are!”
Robin swiped away her tears. “No I’m not.” I’m afraid of my very shadow, I’m lonely, I’m sad all of the time and my life seems pointless. She thought these things but didn’t dare say them, admitting them to herself was hard enough.
“Robin,” her mother said softly. “I don’t want you to ever struggle and I want you to be happy. You are my only family.” An only child, Betty Mathena’s mother had passed away long ago and she had never known her father. No one else that she was kin to meant anything to her. There was no one but Robin. “You are no disappointment to me! I just want more for you. I just want you to have a life not filled with struggles, and baby I am in a position where I can help you—in a way that my Mama never could help me.” Money had been tight for her and her Mother so there was no question of her Mom paying for college—if she wanted it she would have to pay for it herself. And pay for it herself she did; by working very hard. She had always swore to herself that she would give her daughter what her mother couldn’t.
“I want to find my own life, Mom, like you did. You’re pushing and it doesn’t push me towards what you want, but away from you.” There, she had finally said it. She held her breath and heard her mother swallow back her own tears.
“I know.”
And then the two talked, really talked, for the first time since Daddy’s death and maybe for the first time ever. When Robin hung up the phone an hour later she wasn’t sure if her mother would change, but she already knew that she couldn’t continue a relationship with her mother where she had to hold everything in. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 5
Robin was kneeling, putting the older woman’s feet into her underwear as she sat on the side of the bed, now containing clean sheets. “What’s your name, dear?”
Robin looked at her, not sure if the question had been directed to her or not, even though there was no one else around. She had been Miss Lucille’s home health care aide for over three weeks and the woman had never asked that one question.
“Robin.”
“You’re a pretty girl, Robin. Such pretty eyes you have.”
Robin smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.” Miss Lucille struggled to stand and Robin pulled up her panties.
“My son will be coming over today. Can you pick me out something nice to wear?”
Robin stood and went to the closet. “Sure. Would you like pants or a dress?”
“There is a navy blue dress. Bring that to me.” Robin draped the dress over the bed. There was dust on the shoulders and she brushed it off quickly. “I have a doctor’s appointment today. Bentley will probably take me to lunch after. We go to the Brown Derby. I usually have the chopped steak and baked potato. They use fresh mushrooms, you know. Not all restaurants do; even those expensive steak places-” Robin listened to her as she talked about her son, her grandchildren and the ladies from the women’s group. She pretended that she hadn’t already heard this story thirty times and commented in all of the right places.
