A bead of sweat begins to form near my right temple and trickle down into my ear as I watch the oppressive iron gate close behind me in the rearview mirror. I nervously wipe it away before looking at my watch for the hundredth time this afternoon. Thirty-two minutes early. Not being familiar with this neighborhood, it seemed like a good idea to leave early, and I desperately want to make a good impression.
As I round the first corner of the winding driveway before me, a nagging little voice somewhere deep inside begs me to turn around and drive back. I nearly give in to the temptation before reminding myself that this is something I have to do. I'm not sure who I want to prove that to more... Rick or myself.
When the mansion comes into view, I take a deep breath and swallow around the lump that has formed in my throat. The main house is three stories and there are two small guest houses on the grounds to the rear. I catch sight of a tennis court and a swimming pool with a cabana as I continue to drive. The landscaping is breathtaking and there is an exquisite garden with flowers and some type of fruit-bearing trees up to my right. I have never seen a home so grand. Despite the fact that my father and brother are both well paid physicians, we have always lived in a modest home. Even the Spaulding mansion pales in comparison to the compound I see before me. I'll bet that even the smallest bathroom is bigger than the entire apartment that Jesse and I shared.
Jesse. I blink several times, trying to stamp out the thought before tears spring forth in my eyes. I wonder sometimes if a day will ever pass that I don't think about him at least once. For the time being, it seems as though he has taken up permanent residence in my mind. Rick says to give it time. How much, I wonder. It's been three months since he left for New York. I cried for two. When I finally admitted to myself that what we had shared was over long before he left, the crying stopped. I began the process of healing by moving out of that tiny apartment and into Rick and Abby's home. But I quickly became restless there and began searching for some means of escape... a new start.
And now, here I am. I pray I have made the right decision. Rick is worried about me. I overheard him talking to Abby last night as I was packing my suitcase. He would never voice those concerns to me directly. He respects the choices I make because I am a grown woman, but as my big brother, he worries nonetheless. The distress I heard in his voice overwhelmed me and my heart felt full for the first time since Jesse left. I will remember last night always. Whenever I find myself growing lonely in this big house, I will call on that memory to give me comfort.
I kill the engine and take another deep breath before looking at my watch again. Twenty-eight till. My eyes drift over the steering wheel to the massive front door and I notice the beautiful colors and ornate patterns of the stained glass surrounded by a rich, dark wood. Somewhere beyond that door I see a figure moving about, and I can't help but wonder what my new life will be like. I glance over into the passenger seat, picking up the folded newspaper and rereading the ad one last time, trying to kill some time and build the courage to propel myself out of my car and to the front door.
I grab my briefcase from the back seat and shove the newspaper into the front pouch before checking my reflection in the rearview mirror. With one final glance at my watch, I open the car door and walk with more confidence than I feel to the front door, smoothing my skirt as I go. My eyes drift upward as I advance and I catch a glimpse of a man staring down at me from the window of one of the second floor rooms. I only see him for the briefest of seconds before he retreats, but he had the darkest, most piercing eyes of anyone I have ever seen. My new employer, I think.
I press the button on the left side of the door and listen to the booming of the chimes reverberating throughout the mansion. Within seconds I hear someone approaching the door. I see a hazy figure obscured by the stained glass reaching for the knob, and my heart begins to race. I exhale sharply when my gaze is returned by a short, stout woman in her late forties. She is wearing a gray uniform and apron and her salt and pepper hair is in a neat bun atop her head. I am instantly put at ease when she gives me a warm smile.
"Hello Miss... Can I help you?" she asks.
"Yes Ma'am. I have a three o'clock appointment with Mr. Santos. My name is Michelle Bauer." When I see her look down at her own watch, I add apologetically, "I'm afraid I'm a bit early."
"Well Miss Bauer, I wasn't aware that Mr. Santos was expecting anyone at all today," she says with a confused look on her face. "Let me just go and check."
"That won't be necessary Olga," I hear a deep voice say from behind her left shoulder, and butterflies begin their dance in the pit of my stomach once again.
When she turns to greet the man behind her, I immediately feel myself deflate as I realize those aren't the eyes I remember from the window just a few minutes before. "Raymond!" she squeals, planting a kiss on each cheek.
He glances briefly at me, sizing me up in an instant before turning his attention back to her. "Coma esta, Olga?"
"Muy bien, Raymond! It is so very good to see you. When did you arrive?"
I stand patiently while they converse, but I can tell he is anxious to escort me in as he looks at Olga, then me, and then into the interior of the house several times. "Just a few minutes ago. I came in through the back. I didn't want to disturb anyone. Ms. Bauer and I have an appointment this afternoon."
"And I am a bit early," I interject, repeating myself for his benefit.
"Oh forgive me Miss," Olga says to me, and then turning to Mr. Santos, "When she said Mr. Santos Raymond, I thought she meant Daniel. Why didn't you tell me you were expecting a visitor?"
He doesn't answer her, but instead reaches for my hand and ushers me inside. His hand is sweaty and I wonder to myself why he's nervous. "It is such a warm, beautiful day... Let's talk in the courtyard. Olga, bring us two glasses of iced tea please." he says and she retreats.
As I follow behind him, I take in my surroundings. I marvel at the hand painted ceramic tile that lines the foyer. I step gingerly as the clicking of my heels interrupts the silence between us. Just beyond the French doors that lead to the courtyard, the wonderful aroma of fresh flowers rises up to greet me and I look up from the intricately painted tiles. The room is full of all sorts of greenery and flowers surrounding a fountain that is spurting water from it's center. Skylights that have been fully opened on this warm June afternoon allow the sun to filter in, and the warmth feels good.
We sit at one of the patio tables and I open my briefcase and hand Mr. Santos my resume and letters of reference. He glances briefly at the documents and I gaze around at all of the beauty that surrounds me. Olga emerges from another door with our tea and a plate of cookies. I nervously chew the corner of one cookie before taking a huge sip of tea. I can feel Mr. Santos' eyes on me and I lift mine to meet his.
He sips his tea and clears his throat before speaking. "Ms. Bauer... It seems that you are more than qualified for this job. Do you mind me asking your age?"
I don't really understand why that is his first concern, but I indulge him and answer, "Twenty-two, Mr. Santos. And please call me Michelle."
"Only if you agree to call me Ray," he responds with a warm smile, and he waits for me to nod in approval before continuing. "Let me explain why I asked your age. Frankly... I never expected someone so young to be interested in a live-in position. A job like this can be very demanding. Are you sure that you have thought this through?"
"Yes Ray, I have. I was in need of a fresh start when I read your ad. I have just recently gotten out of a long-term relationship and I was in need of new living arrangements anyway," I try to explain.
"Won't you miss your family?"
I think carefully before I respond. Of course I'll miss them. I already do... I did the minute I drove off. "Of course, but I'll see them on the weekends. I don't have that much family in Springfield. Just my brother, his wife, and my great aunt."
"Your parents are no longer with you?" he asks with genuine concern.
"My mother died when I was very little and my father has been doing work out of the country since I was a teenager. My brother and his wife raised me. We are a small family, but we're tight-knit."
"I'm sorry about your parents. How did your mother die?" he asks, and the kindness behind his eyes encourages me to share myself with him.
"She died in a car accident when I was twelve." As soon as I say the word accident, I see him flinch and close his eyes. I am suddenly reminded what my purpose here is, and I regret that I have forced him to relive those awful memories.
After a long, uncomfortable pause, he speaks. "It's been six weeks since the accident. Everything is still very raw for us. You understand?" Just like before, he waits for me to nod. I comply. "I really hope that you can help my grandmother. She spent the first two and a half weeks after the accident in a coma in the intensive care unit. She slept through the funeral."
"Funeral?" I ask, unaware that there had been any deaths as a result of the accident.
"Yes. My cousin Pilar was in the back seat and she wasn't wearing her seat belt. She was killed instantly."
"Just like my mom," I say aloud without meaning to. When I look into his eyes, I see that they are glistening with unshed tears. "I'm so very sorry," I finish lamely, wanting desperately to take away this man's pain, but not knowing how to do that.
After he swallows a few sips of tea, he continues, "As I was saying... After abuela regained consciousness, she was moved to the orthopedic floor. She received wonderful physical therapy while she was at Cedars but she is still not back to one hundred percent. I hope that you can help her. Can you?"
"Well Ray, I need to assess her first and see what her potential is. I'd like to start with three hours of therapy in the morning and two in the late afternoon. I don't want to push it at first. Maybe you should go over my other duties with me."
"Well, beyond the physical therapy, I thought that abuela would like the companionship of another person. Pilar was her everything and I'm afraid she's a little lost without her. This house can be a little lonely," he finishes, looking up at the door leading to the interior of the house.
"Your house is beautiful, Ray. Simply gorgeous." I say, admiring for the first time, the fine china that the cookies sit upon.
He chuckles softly to himself and waits for me to make eye contact with him before answering. "This is not my house Michelle. It has been in the Santos family for three generations, but it belongs to my cousin Danny now."
"Oh... I just assumed that since you hired me, this home was yours. I'm sorry. You don't live here?" I ask, feeling a little uneasy at the moment, not knowing who I'll be living with exactly.
"No Michelle. I should have explained myself better over the phone. I am the parish priest at St. Michael's. I live at the rectory. I'm sorry I confused you. I don't always wear my clerical collar."
"Oh I see," I mumble, searching for something to say. I know I should be asking questions, but the words elude me.
He senses my apprehension about the situation and comes to my rescue. "Listen Michelle," he begins, "I am the one that hired you and I am the one that will write your paycheck every month. This is Danny's house, but he's hardly ever here. When he's not working, he keeps to himself on the second floor. Abuela is on the first floor, and you will be in the room next door to hers. Don't worry about a thing."
Him telling me not to worry has made me infinitely more worried. I wonder why this man that owns this house and shares it with his grandmother isn't the one that's doing the hiring. It suddenly dawns on me why Ray was nervous when I arrived early. He didn't want to risk me running into Danny. I verbalize my concerns to Ray after a brief pause. "Ray, is Danny not in favor of hiring someone to care for your grandmother? Doesn't he want her rehabilitated?"
He quickly responds, "No Michelle, it's not that. It's just... Danny has taken all of this very hard... Pilar's death and abuela's injuries. He blames himself. He's not coping well. He's moody and sullen. Michelle... Danny can be a very difficult man to deal with and I just thought it would be better if I..."
Suddenly the man with the brooding eyes that I remember so well storms into the room, and I sit up straighter and avert my eyes. I look at Ray. He's in shock after Danny's abrupt entrance. There is nothing but silence and as the sun darts behind a cloud, the room is plunged into slivers of light and shadows. I sneak a glance at Danny. He is tall and lean underneath the blue jeans and wrinkled, white shirt. He is in his bare feet and is in desperate need of a shave. His hair is cropped close to his head, and a purple scar peeks out from under the hairline above his right eye. My eyes travel to his face. I can tell by the twitching muscle in his jaw that he is angry. Very angry. My eyes travel higher and find those piercing eyes of his staring right back at me. I study a spot on the ground before looking back up and addressing him. "Mr. Santos, my name is Michelle Bauer and I'm the..."
He cuts me off abruptly with a snort. "I know why you're here Miss Bauer." He turns his attention to Ray then, shooting daggers with his eyes. "My cousin here doesn't trust me with our grandmother. He doesn't think I'm taking good enough care of her, so he's hired some...some nurse." He spits out the last word as he looks back my way.
I cannot take the intensity of his stare and I look at Ray when I address Danny, trying desperately to control my quivering voice. "I am a physical therapist Mr. Santos, not a nurse. I have had extensive training and experience. And I love what I do." My voice trails off as I make my pitiful case.
Ray grabs my resume and letters of reference and waves them above his head at Danny. "It's true Danny. She has excellent credentials and comes highly recommended."
Danny closes the gap between us and is standing so close to me, that I can feel his breath on my shoulder. "Never doubt my love for my abuela, Miss Bauer. I can assure you that she is all that I live for now. Don't ever presume to make assumptions about me in my own home ever again. Understand?"
I nod and close my eyes to prevent the tears from falling from my eyes. I realize that he overheard my last few questions to Ray, and my heart breaks for this man who I can see now, obviously loves his grandmother.
He walks over to Ray, snatches the documents from his hand, and begins to leave through the same door from which he entered.
I turn to Ray and whisper, "Maybe this wasn't the best match Ray. Maybe I should just go."
Danny turns on his heel, spinning around to face us, and says icily, "Don't be ridiculous Miss Bauer. You do, after all, have extensive training and experience. And you love what you do." He is mocking me with my own words and I look down at the floor again as he continues, "Just stay the hell away from me and I'm sure we'll get along famously, Miss Bauer."
With that, he's gone. Ray looks at me with pity in his eyes as I send a silent prayer to God that I am up to this challenge.
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