by Suzi Weinert
A month later as they ate a meager dinner in Amanda’s basement apartment, Celeste said, “You know, Fred, the motel pays basic wage less federal deductions. What if we cleaned houses on our own? We could charge more per hour than we’re getting now and keep what we earn.”
Fred considered. “The motel taught us how to clean rooms, but how do we find these other jobs?”
“We could try those fancy neighborhoods near Tyson Corner and charge less than their current help. If we prove ourselves in one home, we’d ask for referrals to others.”
“I like it, working the same hours for better pay. But what about supplies? The motel provides everything we use now.”
Celeste thought. “We’d start out using the customer’s mops, Windex and so on, just providing muscle. Once we buy a car, we bring equipment and supplies and charge more.”
After work, they walked to single-family neighborhoods fanning around Tyson Corner to ask if owners needed domestic help or knew someone who did. “We’re a team. We clean faster and better than anyone. It’s the American dream: have a good idea, work hard and live a decent life. We learned our skills at a Tyson Corner hotel. Just try us. You’ll see.”
Most residents in these neighborhoods used domestic help, often hiring a housekeeper via a friend’s referral. The sincerity of these two young people gleaned two job offers the first day. Enthusiastic referrals followed their conscientious work at those homes. A month later the pair worked ten jobs a week, two houses a day. They used public transportation, paid their rent and began saving money. Soon they hired others to help them and bought a used van to ferry their crews. Celeste concentrated on residential cleaning while Fred branched out to commercial janitorial service, where he quickly rose to crew foreman. Besides the labor side, his new position exposed him to management, where he learned much they’d used to grow their own operation.
Housemates by chance, Celeste and Fred slept in separate bedrooms in Amanda’s basement apartment. Over time, their work relationship transformed their energy and focus into admiration and trust. “Why, we’ve become really great friends,” Celeste noticed one day with surprise.
Fred gazed at her. “I adored you the first day you walked into my life.” Her eyes widened as he reached for her hand, pulled her into a gentle embrace and their lips met for the first time. Was he the kind, dependable man missing in her life? Tears of happiness spilled as she returned his embrace. Soon they transformed the second bedroom into an office.
Celeste found cleaning homes different from motel work. She told Fred, “Motels are predictable, but homeowners can save nasty chores for us like crusty cooking pans or filthy utility sinks. Motel rooms are cleaned daily while dirt in homes builds for a week or more. At motels we please one supervisor, but in homes no two employers are alike. Our good efforts satisfy some while others never like what I do. Most motel maids barely see guests, while in homes the owners’ lives show in every room. We get to know them, even some of their problems.”
“Like...?”
“Like rebellious teenagers leaving food, dirty clothes and wet towels around their rooms for me to pick up before I clean. Or pet poop deliberately left for me or a reeking sickroom where an aging parent lives. I see children and pets neglected and hear door-slamming and arguments.”
Fred added, “You’re right. You think houses neat on the outside would also be neat on the inside, but we know you don’t always get what you expect.”
“Some treat you like a servant and others like you’re almost a family member. With them you feel involved. It’s like acting in a weekly soap opera. For instance, I work for two nice, lonesome people who should meet each other. One’s a widow, the other a widower. If I could get them together, both their lives could be happier.”
“I don’t know…isn’t it better not to get involved? I mean, we’re just day workers on the fringe of their lives, and we depend on their referrals. What if something you think is a good idea backfires instead? We get a bad reputation for meddling, not a good one for caring.”
“I hear you,” Celeste agreed, yet she often sensed good or bad feelings about houses where she worked. Miss Jennifer’s felt like a good house, but across the street, Mr. Tony’s did not. She couldn’t explain, but she felt something was wrong there.
Then she found an item hidden in his closet to prove her right. Should she keep this information quiet as Fred suggested or should she tell Miss Jennifer on Tuesday?
66
Sunday, 4:46 PM
The three Grands bustled in from the yard where they’d played for a couple of hours inside the wrought-iron fence.
“Could we have the second Learning Surprise now?” asked Christine.
“Could we have it on the sun porch?” Alicia wanted to know.
“Could we have a snack?” Milo chimed in. “Maybe one with chocolate?”
Jennifer smiled. “Let’s do them all. I’ll bring you each a chocolate chip cookie on the sun porch and we’ll talk right there.”
When they settled onto the wicker couches and chairs, she held up her cell phone. “Today let’s talk about dialing 911. You only do this if you ever really, really need special help from police or an ambulance and no other adult is there to help you. Can you all read numbers?” Christine and Alicia nodded with confidence. “You, too, Milo?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes, I weed numbers ‘cause Mommy teached me how. I can count to twenty-eleven.”
They all laughed.
“Okay then, Milo, will you please point to the 9 and the 1 on this phone?” Jennifer asked. She nodded approval as he pointed.
“We dial 911 only for a very serious emergency because when we call this number, police or firefighters come to help us if nobody else is nearby who can. So don’t call 911 if a parent or baby sitter or teacher is nearby to help. Don’t call 911 if you break a toy or stub your toe or can’t find your crayons. The trusted adult taking care of you would help you solve those problems. But let’s think of a serious emergency when no adult is nearby to help you.”
The children exchanged puzzled looks. “Could you give us an example?” Christine suggested.
“You went to the fire station yesterday. Can you think of an emergency that might need their help?”
“A fire,” they each volunteered.
“Yes, any fire burning where a fire shouldn’t be. A fire inside the fireplace is okay but what about a fire on the floor or in a bed?”
“Call 911,” they agreed with excitement.
“Okay, what if your Mommy falls on the floor, can’t breathe and her lips turn blue? You say, ‘Mommy are you okay?’ but Mommy is too sick to answer. You need help but no other adult is at home. That’s a time to call 911. Or what if a neighbor is cut by a lawn mower and bleeding and can’t talk when you ask if he needs help? If another adult is nearby, you run to them for help to save the injured person, but if no adult is there you call 911 to send help. Any questions?”
The three Grands shook their heads.
“Okay, here’s the test. If you lose your ball do you find a nearby adult to help you or call 911?”
“Find an adult,” they chorused.
“If a thief steals your car with you inside and your parents are not nearby to save you but you have a phone in your pocket, do you call 911?”
“Yes,” they shouted.
“If your grandmother falls down the stairs and you ask her if she’s okay but she’s too hurt to answer you and no other adult is in the house to help, what do you do?”
“Call 911,” they squealed with glee.
“Now, would each of you please give me an example when not to call 911 and another example when you should call 911?”
Milo spoke first. “If you bwake some glass and your gwanmudder can clean it up for you, don’t call 911. But if you bwake some glass and your gwandmudder gets cut so bad she falls down and can’t talk and gwandaddy isn’t home to help, then you call 911.”
“Very good, Milo. Who’s next?”
Alicia jumped to her feet. “If you’re at a garage sale and lose your money but your grandmother helps you find it you do not call 911. But if you’re at a garage sale and someone starts shooting people and they’re falling down dead then you call 911.”
“Right.” They high fived. “Chris, how about you?”
“If I’m by the fishpond in your back yard and my doll falls in the water, then I find an adult to help me get it out. But if I’m by the fishpond and a real baby falls in and no adult is nearby to help get him out then I call 911.” Chris gave a satisfied smile at her recitation.
“Good,” Jennifer said. “So let’s summarize. Part One is knowing when to call 911. Part Two is knowing what to say when they answer your call. When they answer they’ll say, ‘Where is your emergency?’ You tell them the emergency and your name and your age and where you are so they know where to send help. Do you know your home phone number and address in case something happens when you’re there?”
“We do,” announced Alicia, “because Mommy put those words and numbers in the ‘Row, row, row your boat’ song.” Jennifer laughed as they sang the song together.
Alicia asked, “What do I tell 911 if I’m not sure where I am? What if I’m in a store but I don’t know which store. What if I say I’m at my Gran’s house? Do they know where that is?”
“Good questions. You answer the 911 operator the best you can. You could say you’re in a restaurant or a parking lot or a store. Sometimes 911 can trace a phone location. If you’re holding the phone and they find where it is, they know where you are.”
Satisfied smiles all around.
“Oh, look, here’s Grandaddy.” Jennifer turned toward him. “Today’s learning surprise is about when to call 911 and what to say. Grandaddy, would you like to take the test?” He nodded compliance. “Can you give us an example when not to call 911 and another when you should call?”
Jason considered. “Well, if three smart grandchildren visit you and bake cookies with their grandmother and the cookie smell fills the house, you can ask Grandaddy to help you eat the cookies. But if the house catches on fire while the cookies bake and no adult is there to help you solve the problem, you call 911 and ask them to send firemen.” He thought a moment. “Then get out of the house and wait for the firefighters.”
Delighted, they all clapped hands and cheered approval.
Jennifer hugged each of the Grands then shooed them with her hands. "Now, all of you hustle down to play in the basement playroom because Grandaddy and I need to talk for a few minutes before he comes down to play ping-pong with you.”
Off they scampered.
67
Sunday, 5:14 PM
“You volunteered me for ping-pong with the little ankle-biters without my knowledge or consent? Thanks a lot, partner,” Jason chided. “And what triggered this 911 thing?”
“Today’s newspaper story about a five year old grabbed my attention. He called 911 when his mother had a seizure. Medics arrived and saved her life. Our Grands should know how to use 911 and I needed a Learning Surprise, so…”
“I might have known.” He chuckled. “Jen, Jen. Now let’s hope it doesn’t come back to bite us.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Grands may know what to do but have they the judgment to identify a real 911 situation? I doubt police or firemen like irrelevant calls from small kids no matter how sincere the little tykes are about their so-called emergency.”
“Well, here’s a so-called emergency of our own. Hannah and Becca know about the diamonds. Should we tell our other three about them so nobody feels left out?
Jason considered this. “Or just wait until Thanksgiving. It’s close and we might know more then.”
“Okay. By the way, how about taking the Grands and me to McLean Family Restaurant tonight? Their menu has things for kids and adults plus your own cook gets a night off.”
“Good idea. I’ll make a reservation in case they’re extra busy. By the way, a golfing buddy told me that restaurant’s been here forty years and the father of tennis player Pete Sampras was one of the three original Greek owners.”
“I know it’s a McLean landmark but the rest is news to me. Remember when our kids were young how we crossed our fingers to get a table at their Sunday brunch?”
“Geez, Jen, that takes me back a lot of years. Then we couldn’t imagine our kids grown up or us in our sixties and grandparents besides.” He pulled her into his arms. “All those dreams came true, didn’t they?”
They held each other close.
“I love you, Jay.”
“Love you, too, dear Jen.”
“I said it first.” They both laughed.
“Type-A’s should never marry each other.”
She hugged him. “Is the ping-pong champ about to dazzle the small fry with his remarkable skills?”
“You mean will he endlessly chase the ball fired in all directions but the right one?”
“That, too.”
Jason winked and left the kitchen. She sat, contemplative for a moment, then unloaded the dishwasher and wiped the counters. As she did, her eye fell upon the worn leatherette case, scruffy from the woods where she’d picked it up with other litter and set it aside till later. Now she’d clean it up for a charity resale.
She brushed away surface dirt and wiped it clean. Opening the folder she saw a crescent moon with a star embossed on the leather. One flap of the inside was empty but tucked into the other side lay a folded piece of paper. She opened it and gasped, staring at her name, address and license plate information. What was this doing in a case dropped in the woods behind her house?
And then she knew. Someone had deliberately watched the back of her house. Who else but the diamond owner? Jennifer’s eyes widened and her throat constricted in fear.
68
Sunday, 8:31 PM
“…and that’s the end of the bedtime story.” Jennifer closed the book and went to each child’s bed to hear their “best thing” and “good deed” for the day.
“I really liked my under-the-pillow gift tonight,” Christine said.
“I really like staying at your house.” Alicia snuggled under the covers.
“I weally like lollipops. Will you have more for us tomowwow?” asked Milo.
“We’ll see about that when you wake up in the morning. Now happy dreams, children.”
She tiptoed out, closed the door and joined Jason in the bedroom, where he watched news on TV.
She turned on the bedside lamp and lay the leatherette case on his chest.
“What’s this?” He opened it up and read the paper inside. “Where’d you get this?”
“The children and I apparently surprised someone in the woods when we took our walk this morning. Looks like he dropped this when he ran.”
“Geez, Jen, someone’s stalking the house and I’ve got to go out of town tomorrow to the damn merger talks. I can’t leave you here under these circumstances. But Hell, I can’t cancel this meeting either. I’m the company president so I have to be there. How can I solve this?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. The kids wore me out today. How about you?”
“Yeah, the whole day wore me down. Where did we get the energy to deal with our own? Glad those days are over and we somehow lived to tell about them.” He laughed weakly.
“Indeed we did.” She smiled and gave him a kiss. “This is a wonderful time of life, isn’t it, Jay?”
“It might be if we had less excitement, like this voyeur watching us from the woods.”
“I mean I’m glad we’re both here to share it. Think about Kirsten, here one day, gone the next.”
“Then get your shower and hurry back. A new episode of Law & Order starts in twenty minutes.”
“Do you want popcorn?”
“No, Jen, just you.”
69
Sunday, 11:59 PM
Zayneb paced anxiously in her room, glancing periodically at the clock on the dresser. She a
waited the midnight hour. She no longer anguished over right or wrong: it was all wrong. She knew the law directed citizens to call police right away for any murder case, even self-defense. But instead she fell for their guest’s seductive logic: to erase the incident as if it never happened.
She shrugged, realizing she locked herself into this dangerous new situation last night by agreeing to wrap her husband’s body in the shower curtain and leave it on the floor until Ahmed resolved the problem. But she hardly knew Ahmed. He’d been at their house only four days, and he was from an entirely different culture. What passed as “right” in his world? Would she open the door to find Ahmed with a hallway full of policemen ready to arrest her? Or would he bring cronies along to kill her for daring to strike, never mind kill, her husband? Or finding her defenseless without a husband to protect her, might he rape or murder her? With no idea what to expect next, Zayneb choked back an apprehensive sob.
Her head snapped up at a rap on the bedroom door. She hurried across the carpet, pressed her forehead against the door and mustered courage to face whatever fate held on the other side.
“Zayneb?”
“Yes.”
“Ahmed here. Please open the door.”
Holding her breath in fear, she unlocked the door and edged it open.
To her relief, Ahmed stood alone in the hallway. She backed away for him to enter.
He spoke forcefully. “Listen carefully. You must be strong. This is what we are going to do.” He described his plan. When he explained the last part, her eyes widened in shock. But what choice had she at this point? She could only do what he said.
Ahmed opened the door from the bedroom to the upstairs deck before guiding her into the bathroom, where her husband’s body lay wrapped in the shower curtain.
“Everybody sleeps now, but we must be quiet. I’ll lift the heavy part.” He indicated the torso of the wrapped corpse. “You take the legs.”