Story Starting Over ... and Over and Over
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
I finally got time today to ready the other chapters 
thank you.
thank you.
Chapter 6
Chapter 6
By eleven o’clock in the morning I was on the road and heading north. I estimated a six-hour drive to reach Lake City, FL but it was closer to eight. Then the kurfluffle at the motel and then it was midnight before I pulled into a slot in the very busy rest stop at the FL/GA border. Big trucks came and went all night and at five in the morning I finally gave it up and went in to the bathroom to freshen up. Caffeine was at the top of the list of my immediate wants and needs so after getting back on the interstate I drove across the border and pulled off at the first town I came to that offered a gas station with hot coffee. It wound up being Lake Park, GA.
Problem was when I got off it took me hours to get back on. There was some kind of multi-car-plus-two-semi-tractor-trailers accident immediately beyond the on-ramp. They shut down that whole section of the interstate and there were helicopters, cop cars, State Troopers, and ambulances all over the place for a while. There were also a lot of news people trying to stick their microphones into people’s faces to find out if they knew what was going on or had witnessed any of the accident. There was no good route for going around that wouldn’t take me really far out of my way, and traffic was a hideous mess because of that and Valdosta’s proximity and all of the commercial traffic. I wasn’t the only one that decided a little shopping at the outlet malls on either side of the interstate would be more interesting than sitting in my car watching it over heat.
Sure, I spent money that I hadn’t intended to but I also managed to get a few things that I had forgotten about needing. And I found a discount book store where I picked up some titles I didn’t have. Disconcertingly, a lot of the storefronts of what was once a thriving center – according to one of the clerks that went on about it at length with a couple of other customers – were vacant but there was enough to keep me busy and from going crazy at the delay.
Rack Room had some thin black socks in a clearance bin and a pair of black flats to wear when I was “serving” or some such like that; any other time I planned on wearing the black clogs or black tennis shoes. There was a Sally something or other salon outlet and I picked up some more hair nets and a couple of other things along that order. Bonworth turned out to be a clothing store and I picked up a couple of polyester, a-line skirts at a surprisingly deep discount from their clearance rack. I wasted time in Beall’s, Dressbarn, and Liz Claiborne before admitting that I might want a few things but I didn’t need them and didn’t even know if they would be appropriate for my new circumstances. I could have kicked myself for going into the Dollar Store as I spent more money there than I did the others combined. The only other store that came close was the Book Warehouse. Lastly, I stopped at Winn Dixie grocery store next to the outlet mall and got a Styrofoam cooler, a small bag of ice, and a couple of flats of water bottles and a six pack of fizzy caffeine for the ice to keep cold.
It was one o’clock before they reopened the interstate but try as I might it took me until a little after two to get my turn to get on the on-ramp and then it was an hour after that before the traffic started thinning out and moving at a normal speed. That put me in Atlanta, GA during the worst possible time frame … rush hour traffic. Ugh. I finally got on the other side of Atlanta but it was after six o’clock and I needed a break from driving, a bathroom break, and a chance to look at the map because I would need to change from I85 to I985 and I didn’t want to miss the exit. Counting the miles supposedly I only had three more hours of driving to go but that would put me in Bryson City after nine o’clock at night. I had to decide what to do.
There’s no question I could have made it but the timing was bad. After Bryson City I would be leaving any kind of main highway and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take me to reach my final destination. Trying to use some commonsense I called Mr. Crocker’s phone and was going to leave a message but was surprised when the man himself answered.
“Mr. Crocker I’m sorry for calling after office hours but I wanted to let you know it will be tomorrow when I arrive rather than today. There was a huge back up on the interstate and it has put me behind. I’m still about two and a half hours away from Bryson City and …”
He stopped my excuses by asking me a question. “Two and a half hours? Ms. Field you wouldn’t happen to be near Gainesville, GA would you?”
Having just passed a sign letting me know I was approaching the Gainesville Municipal Airport I said in surprise, “Actually yes sir, that’s exactly where I am.”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Uh …”
“Mr. Haines is stuck at that airport. He expected to fly into Bryson City but the plane had some indicator lights come on and they had to make an early landing.”
So, as weird as it seemed I took the exit for the local airport and waited in the parking lot for Mr. Haines to grab his gear and meet me there.
Mr. Haines was rumpled, discombobulated, and soggy because it had started to rain. I almost felt sorry for him. He was the head honcho but he was being picked up by his new housekeeper in her old beater of a car. I’m sure he was used to finer things but to his credit he didn’t act like it. He sat there for a moment, neither one of us knowing what to say. I decided to take action to cover the strangeness and handed him a clean bar towel to dry off with … one of the things I had purchased at the Dollar Tree … and said he had the choice of water or fizzy pop to drink and then asked if there was anything else before we got on the road.
“Yes. Can you drive a trailer in the rain?”
I smiled. “Yes Sir. My brother taught me to drive and said if I couldn’t drive with a trailer attached I couldn’t drive.” At his arched eyebrow I smiled at a fond memory and said, “My brother … he was just my brother and he always seemed to take things a little further than your average bear.”
At his nod I pulled out and in ten minutes I was surprised when Mr. Haines dozed off. I was pulling into Bryson City before he woke up.
“You’re kidding me,” he said upon realizing where we were.
“Uh …”
“I apologize Ms. Field. I had no intention of sleeping, much less …”
I could see he was embarrassed so most of my own discomfort evaporated. “Mr. Haines if you can overlook my stomach growling I can certainly cut you some slack for being exhausted. However, where to from here? Mr. Crocker kind of left it up to you.”
“It’s another hour and a half, are you up for it?”
“Yes Sir, so long as you play navigator.”
When Mr. Crocker had said the road had switchbacks and steep grades he hadn’t been kidding. But the road itself was in good condition so things weren’t as difficult as they could have otherwise been. But it was with some relief that we pulled up to what looked like the entrance to a gated community.
“Flash your high beams,” Mr. Haines instructed and suddenly a guy came out of the bushes and shown his light in my side window nearly blinding me.
“Knock it off Reggie before you burn our retinas with that thing.”
“Wow. Sorry Mr. Haines. We didn’t expect you so soon and we’ve had a couple of lost tourists today. They were kinda irritated at getting lost and then being told we couldn’t un-lost ‘em.”
“Really,” Mr. Haines drawled dryly while I tried to keep a professionally straight face despite the backwoods terminology the guy had used. “I’ll read the report in the morning. Right now you can open the gate and let us through. I’m sure Ms. Field is anxious to get someplace that doesn’t include wheels and blacktop.”
“Oh. Uh. Yes Sir. Uh. She … er … she needs a name badge and all that.”
“Mr. Crocker said he’d left something at the office?”
“Oh.” Then a light bulb came on above his head nearly as bright as the flashlight had been. “Oh yeah! Bernie! Yo! Bernie!! Bring them papers Mr. Crocker sent over and come meet Mr. Haines’ new housekeeper. She is pretty young just like we heard.”
Mr. Haines looked like he was on the very edge of a headache of some magnitude and I was hoping this wasn’t a sampling of the “confidentiality” that they’d insisted on so strongly.
Bernie came out looking important and started giving me instructions but Mr. Haines said, “Just give her the papers and open the gate. I’ll explain things.”
“Uh … wellllll … she needs to sign for the papers and then sign in Mr. Haines. Mr. Crocker said no exceptions.”
But when it came time he’d forgotten a pen. Rather than let the farce go any further I took a pen out of my purse, took the clipboard from Bernie, signed where indicated, told both men thank you and then said, “We’d better do what Mr. Haines said. It has been a long day.” It took me actually pointing at the gate before one of them got the right idea.
I drove through and down the road a little before coming to a “T” in the road. “Left or right?”
“Left,” Mr. Haines said like the headache was no longer coming but had arrived. I followed the winding road and at a “Y” he said, “Just keep taking the left hand.”
Several lefts later he told me to stop and pointed to a short drive. Shaking the envelope and then dumping the contents out he said, “The cottage is behind this screen of trees. Here are the keys and a note that says the electric has been turned on and that Crocker doesn’t expect you to assume your duties for a couple of days so that you can get acclimated. He’ll send someone around mid-morning tomorrow to help get your things moved in. The drive is narrow and it will be easier if you back in to unload your trailer. I’ll …”
“I can back it in but shouldn’t I drop you off at the Big House?”
“No. That’s all right. I’ll walk and the night air will help me clear … my head.”
As soon as he said the word “clear” the sky opened up and it started raining.
I think we were both stunned and all I could say was, “Air is a little wet at the moment. Sure you wouldn’t prefer a ride?”
He sighed and gave a nod and then pointed for me to continue on (I also heard some teeth grinding but I can’t blame him for it) and I realized that I was driving on an old carriage road loop. There was a drive-thru patio at the side of the old plantation style home that I utilized so he could get to an entrance without getting soaked.
He looked at me and I at him. “Good night Mr. Haines.”
“Good night Ms. Field. Crocker will see that you get settled in. Er … thank you for the ride.”
“Yes Sir.”
I made it up the drive and then backed in, as had been instructed, then sat and looked to see what I could of my new residence. It wasn’t big. It reminded me of the apartments you sometimes saw over the detached garages of older homes. Rather than being wood or concrete block, this one looked like it was faced with local granite. Or that’s what showed in the flashes of lightning that had started to accompany the pouring rain. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about breaking my neck trying to find the outside stairs; someone had thoughtfully turned on the porch light which led me to see there was a small deck at the top of the stairs before the door.
The rain was getting harder rather than letting up so I knew I’d simply have to make a dash for it or sleep in the car for the third night running. I grabbed my overnight bag, my purse, one of the plastic bags from Dollar Tree, and the manila envelope Mr. Crocker had left for me. Out of habit I took my keys, looked around carefully before I unlocked and left the car, and then bolted for the stairs while hitting the clicker to lock my car behind me.
I was drenched to the skin before I could get inside as first the lock stuck and then the door stuck. Inside I quickly dumped the Dollar Tree bags and then put it under me to stand on and catch the water that I was shedding like a Saint Bernard dog that had decided to go for a swim. I took one of the numerous bar rags that had been in the bag and wiped my face until I could see something besides wet hair and blurry negatives when the lightning flashed. The electric might have been on but I didn’t see any switch for a light. I used my phone to look around and finally realize there were no overhead lights … and no lamps though I did see a couple of outlets running around the edge of the empty space I was standing in.
Correction, it wasn’t completely empty. On one end there was a small fireplace set in the corner faced in the same stone that covered the outside of the cottage. On either side of that were a couple of built in shelving units. In the opposite corner was a small kitchenette. Dry enough I was no longer dripping, though I did kick off my wet shoes, I walked over and opened the refrigerator. It was small but surprisingly modern … and on. The stove was gas, something I hadn’t cooked on since my parents had purchased their new house, but it wasn’t rocket science. The sink was small, but serviceable and the faucet new. At least the pipes don’t knock when you turned the water on and off. The cabinets were pine with an equal number both above and below, more than sufficient for what I had brought with me. Opening a door immediately beside the refrigerator I found a small, narrow room that looked like it served the dual purpose of broom closet and pantry.
Across from the kitchenette was a small table. The fact the table only had one chair was a subtle reminder I wasn’t supposed to have guests … or at least guests of the male gender. I looked at the walls and they were covered in old fashioned pine paneling that exactly matched the kitchen cabinets, the shelving in the pantry, and the table. It matched the floor and ceiling too from what I could see. It left me feeling a little boxed in but I knew I’d get used to it. It had a bit of summer camp panache to it.
I spotted another door and when I opened that I found the bedroom. There was a matching fireplace and I realized the two must share a chimney. The bedroom was half the size of the living space but bigger than the bedroom I had grown up using. More pine on all walls, floor, and ceiling once again; and one wall in the bedroom had two doors and an old-fashioned chifforobe between the them. One door led to a miniscule bathroom that barely held a sink, toilet, and a hip tub … all done in Pepto-Bismol pink. One of my grandmothers had a bathroom in the same color; it made me almost smile. The other door led to a closet that reflected the size of the rest of the cottage.
I stepped back out into the main area and without warning it hit me again. I dropped to my knees and tried to control a crying jag. I could name a lot of reasons why I might be crying but the truth is I think I was just scared. I’m alone in a way that I can’t pretend away. I know no one here. I’m in the middle of a freaking forest starting a job that I never imagined I would look for much less get. The only thing I have that is mine is a clunker of a car, a trailer full of flotsam, and my typical bad luck. That thought was punctuated with a bright flash of light followed almost immediately by window rattling thunder. And then my phone ran out of juice and even the porchlight went off.
Great. I finally just gave up, leaned over, and I was asleep on the floor before I could even think about it being a bad idea.
Chapter 6
By eleven o’clock in the morning I was on the road and heading north. I estimated a six-hour drive to reach Lake City, FL but it was closer to eight. Then the kurfluffle at the motel and then it was midnight before I pulled into a slot in the very busy rest stop at the FL/GA border. Big trucks came and went all night and at five in the morning I finally gave it up and went in to the bathroom to freshen up. Caffeine was at the top of the list of my immediate wants and needs so after getting back on the interstate I drove across the border and pulled off at the first town I came to that offered a gas station with hot coffee. It wound up being Lake Park, GA.
Problem was when I got off it took me hours to get back on. There was some kind of multi-car-plus-two-semi-tractor-trailers accident immediately beyond the on-ramp. They shut down that whole section of the interstate and there were helicopters, cop cars, State Troopers, and ambulances all over the place for a while. There were also a lot of news people trying to stick their microphones into people’s faces to find out if they knew what was going on or had witnessed any of the accident. There was no good route for going around that wouldn’t take me really far out of my way, and traffic was a hideous mess because of that and Valdosta’s proximity and all of the commercial traffic. I wasn’t the only one that decided a little shopping at the outlet malls on either side of the interstate would be more interesting than sitting in my car watching it over heat.
Sure, I spent money that I hadn’t intended to but I also managed to get a few things that I had forgotten about needing. And I found a discount book store where I picked up some titles I didn’t have. Disconcertingly, a lot of the storefronts of what was once a thriving center – according to one of the clerks that went on about it at length with a couple of other customers – were vacant but there was enough to keep me busy and from going crazy at the delay.
Rack Room had some thin black socks in a clearance bin and a pair of black flats to wear when I was “serving” or some such like that; any other time I planned on wearing the black clogs or black tennis shoes. There was a Sally something or other salon outlet and I picked up some more hair nets and a couple of other things along that order. Bonworth turned out to be a clothing store and I picked up a couple of polyester, a-line skirts at a surprisingly deep discount from their clearance rack. I wasted time in Beall’s, Dressbarn, and Liz Claiborne before admitting that I might want a few things but I didn’t need them and didn’t even know if they would be appropriate for my new circumstances. I could have kicked myself for going into the Dollar Store as I spent more money there than I did the others combined. The only other store that came close was the Book Warehouse. Lastly, I stopped at Winn Dixie grocery store next to the outlet mall and got a Styrofoam cooler, a small bag of ice, and a couple of flats of water bottles and a six pack of fizzy caffeine for the ice to keep cold.
It was one o’clock before they reopened the interstate but try as I might it took me until a little after two to get my turn to get on the on-ramp and then it was an hour after that before the traffic started thinning out and moving at a normal speed. That put me in Atlanta, GA during the worst possible time frame … rush hour traffic. Ugh. I finally got on the other side of Atlanta but it was after six o’clock and I needed a break from driving, a bathroom break, and a chance to look at the map because I would need to change from I85 to I985 and I didn’t want to miss the exit. Counting the miles supposedly I only had three more hours of driving to go but that would put me in Bryson City after nine o’clock at night. I had to decide what to do.
There’s no question I could have made it but the timing was bad. After Bryson City I would be leaving any kind of main highway and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take me to reach my final destination. Trying to use some commonsense I called Mr. Crocker’s phone and was going to leave a message but was surprised when the man himself answered.
“Mr. Crocker I’m sorry for calling after office hours but I wanted to let you know it will be tomorrow when I arrive rather than today. There was a huge back up on the interstate and it has put me behind. I’m still about two and a half hours away from Bryson City and …”
He stopped my excuses by asking me a question. “Two and a half hours? Ms. Field you wouldn’t happen to be near Gainesville, GA would you?”
Having just passed a sign letting me know I was approaching the Gainesville Municipal Airport I said in surprise, “Actually yes sir, that’s exactly where I am.”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Uh …”
“Mr. Haines is stuck at that airport. He expected to fly into Bryson City but the plane had some indicator lights come on and they had to make an early landing.”
So, as weird as it seemed I took the exit for the local airport and waited in the parking lot for Mr. Haines to grab his gear and meet me there.
Mr. Haines was rumpled, discombobulated, and soggy because it had started to rain. I almost felt sorry for him. He was the head honcho but he was being picked up by his new housekeeper in her old beater of a car. I’m sure he was used to finer things but to his credit he didn’t act like it. He sat there for a moment, neither one of us knowing what to say. I decided to take action to cover the strangeness and handed him a clean bar towel to dry off with … one of the things I had purchased at the Dollar Tree … and said he had the choice of water or fizzy pop to drink and then asked if there was anything else before we got on the road.
“Yes. Can you drive a trailer in the rain?”
I smiled. “Yes Sir. My brother taught me to drive and said if I couldn’t drive with a trailer attached I couldn’t drive.” At his arched eyebrow I smiled at a fond memory and said, “My brother … he was just my brother and he always seemed to take things a little further than your average bear.”
At his nod I pulled out and in ten minutes I was surprised when Mr. Haines dozed off. I was pulling into Bryson City before he woke up.
“You’re kidding me,” he said upon realizing where we were.
“Uh …”
“I apologize Ms. Field. I had no intention of sleeping, much less …”
I could see he was embarrassed so most of my own discomfort evaporated. “Mr. Haines if you can overlook my stomach growling I can certainly cut you some slack for being exhausted. However, where to from here? Mr. Crocker kind of left it up to you.”
“It’s another hour and a half, are you up for it?”
“Yes Sir, so long as you play navigator.”
When Mr. Crocker had said the road had switchbacks and steep grades he hadn’t been kidding. But the road itself was in good condition so things weren’t as difficult as they could have otherwise been. But it was with some relief that we pulled up to what looked like the entrance to a gated community.
“Flash your high beams,” Mr. Haines instructed and suddenly a guy came out of the bushes and shown his light in my side window nearly blinding me.
“Knock it off Reggie before you burn our retinas with that thing.”
“Wow. Sorry Mr. Haines. We didn’t expect you so soon and we’ve had a couple of lost tourists today. They were kinda irritated at getting lost and then being told we couldn’t un-lost ‘em.”
“Really,” Mr. Haines drawled dryly while I tried to keep a professionally straight face despite the backwoods terminology the guy had used. “I’ll read the report in the morning. Right now you can open the gate and let us through. I’m sure Ms. Field is anxious to get someplace that doesn’t include wheels and blacktop.”
“Oh. Uh. Yes Sir. Uh. She … er … she needs a name badge and all that.”
“Mr. Crocker said he’d left something at the office?”
“Oh.” Then a light bulb came on above his head nearly as bright as the flashlight had been. “Oh yeah! Bernie! Yo! Bernie!! Bring them papers Mr. Crocker sent over and come meet Mr. Haines’ new housekeeper. She is pretty young just like we heard.”
Mr. Haines looked like he was on the very edge of a headache of some magnitude and I was hoping this wasn’t a sampling of the “confidentiality” that they’d insisted on so strongly.
Bernie came out looking important and started giving me instructions but Mr. Haines said, “Just give her the papers and open the gate. I’ll explain things.”
“Uh … wellllll … she needs to sign for the papers and then sign in Mr. Haines. Mr. Crocker said no exceptions.”
But when it came time he’d forgotten a pen. Rather than let the farce go any further I took a pen out of my purse, took the clipboard from Bernie, signed where indicated, told both men thank you and then said, “We’d better do what Mr. Haines said. It has been a long day.” It took me actually pointing at the gate before one of them got the right idea.
I drove through and down the road a little before coming to a “T” in the road. “Left or right?”
“Left,” Mr. Haines said like the headache was no longer coming but had arrived. I followed the winding road and at a “Y” he said, “Just keep taking the left hand.”
Several lefts later he told me to stop and pointed to a short drive. Shaking the envelope and then dumping the contents out he said, “The cottage is behind this screen of trees. Here are the keys and a note that says the electric has been turned on and that Crocker doesn’t expect you to assume your duties for a couple of days so that you can get acclimated. He’ll send someone around mid-morning tomorrow to help get your things moved in. The drive is narrow and it will be easier if you back in to unload your trailer. I’ll …”
“I can back it in but shouldn’t I drop you off at the Big House?”
“No. That’s all right. I’ll walk and the night air will help me clear … my head.”
As soon as he said the word “clear” the sky opened up and it started raining.
I think we were both stunned and all I could say was, “Air is a little wet at the moment. Sure you wouldn’t prefer a ride?”
He sighed and gave a nod and then pointed for me to continue on (I also heard some teeth grinding but I can’t blame him for it) and I realized that I was driving on an old carriage road loop. There was a drive-thru patio at the side of the old plantation style home that I utilized so he could get to an entrance without getting soaked.
He looked at me and I at him. “Good night Mr. Haines.”
“Good night Ms. Field. Crocker will see that you get settled in. Er … thank you for the ride.”
“Yes Sir.”
I made it up the drive and then backed in, as had been instructed, then sat and looked to see what I could of my new residence. It wasn’t big. It reminded me of the apartments you sometimes saw over the detached garages of older homes. Rather than being wood or concrete block, this one looked like it was faced with local granite. Or that’s what showed in the flashes of lightning that had started to accompany the pouring rain. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about breaking my neck trying to find the outside stairs; someone had thoughtfully turned on the porch light which led me to see there was a small deck at the top of the stairs before the door.
The rain was getting harder rather than letting up so I knew I’d simply have to make a dash for it or sleep in the car for the third night running. I grabbed my overnight bag, my purse, one of the plastic bags from Dollar Tree, and the manila envelope Mr. Crocker had left for me. Out of habit I took my keys, looked around carefully before I unlocked and left the car, and then bolted for the stairs while hitting the clicker to lock my car behind me.
I was drenched to the skin before I could get inside as first the lock stuck and then the door stuck. Inside I quickly dumped the Dollar Tree bags and then put it under me to stand on and catch the water that I was shedding like a Saint Bernard dog that had decided to go for a swim. I took one of the numerous bar rags that had been in the bag and wiped my face until I could see something besides wet hair and blurry negatives when the lightning flashed. The electric might have been on but I didn’t see any switch for a light. I used my phone to look around and finally realize there were no overhead lights … and no lamps though I did see a couple of outlets running around the edge of the empty space I was standing in.
Correction, it wasn’t completely empty. On one end there was a small fireplace set in the corner faced in the same stone that covered the outside of the cottage. On either side of that were a couple of built in shelving units. In the opposite corner was a small kitchenette. Dry enough I was no longer dripping, though I did kick off my wet shoes, I walked over and opened the refrigerator. It was small but surprisingly modern … and on. The stove was gas, something I hadn’t cooked on since my parents had purchased their new house, but it wasn’t rocket science. The sink was small, but serviceable and the faucet new. At least the pipes don’t knock when you turned the water on and off. The cabinets were pine with an equal number both above and below, more than sufficient for what I had brought with me. Opening a door immediately beside the refrigerator I found a small, narrow room that looked like it served the dual purpose of broom closet and pantry.
Across from the kitchenette was a small table. The fact the table only had one chair was a subtle reminder I wasn’t supposed to have guests … or at least guests of the male gender. I looked at the walls and they were covered in old fashioned pine paneling that exactly matched the kitchen cabinets, the shelving in the pantry, and the table. It matched the floor and ceiling too from what I could see. It left me feeling a little boxed in but I knew I’d get used to it. It had a bit of summer camp panache to it.
I spotted another door and when I opened that I found the bedroom. There was a matching fireplace and I realized the two must share a chimney. The bedroom was half the size of the living space but bigger than the bedroom I had grown up using. More pine on all walls, floor, and ceiling once again; and one wall in the bedroom had two doors and an old-fashioned chifforobe between the them. One door led to a miniscule bathroom that barely held a sink, toilet, and a hip tub … all done in Pepto-Bismol pink. One of my grandmothers had a bathroom in the same color; it made me almost smile. The other door led to a closet that reflected the size of the rest of the cottage.
I stepped back out into the main area and without warning it hit me again. I dropped to my knees and tried to control a crying jag. I could name a lot of reasons why I might be crying but the truth is I think I was just scared. I’m alone in a way that I can’t pretend away. I know no one here. I’m in the middle of a freaking forest starting a job that I never imagined I would look for much less get. The only thing I have that is mine is a clunker of a car, a trailer full of flotsam, and my typical bad luck. That thought was punctuated with a bright flash of light followed almost immediately by window rattling thunder. And then my phone ran out of juice and even the porchlight went off.
Great. I finally just gave up, leaned over, and I was asleep on the floor before I could even think about it being a bad idea.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Great morning read while I wake up some more. She's going to hurt in the morning from sleeping on floor. We got to bed super late and my right knee hurt all night. Not a good nights sleep for sure.
welcome back
I haven't even looked at the story yet, but know from past experience it will be great. you have provided me with many hours of entertainment and escape into your characters. I am so glad that you are ok. I checked your blog regularly and wondered about you. I am happy to have that worry resolved. God bless you.
bruce
I haven't even looked at the story yet, but know from past experience it will be great. you have provided me with many hours of entertainment and escape into your characters. I am so glad that you are ok. I checked your blog regularly and wondered about you. I am happy to have that worry resolved. God bless you.
bruce
gardenlily
Contributing Member
Glad to have you back. You have really been missed.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Looking forward to the coming chapters . Thank you for the new story!
spiralbinder
Agrarian Separatist
Completely enjoying this. Thanks so much
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
I woke to an annoying buzz and thin, gray light. I also woke to find that it was still raining.
I peeled my face from the floor where it had stuck from dried drool, identified the sound as a mosquito which I then stopped with extreme prejudice, and after that crawling to the refrigerator discovered the power was still off. If nothing else my luck is consistent.
It was use the bathroom or else, so after that was taken care of I decided I had no choice but to grab my ship’s rudder and try to steer a better course. First, I picked everything off of the floor that I had dumped there the night before. I neatened everything into stacks on the table before splitting the Dollar Tree bag so it could open into a bigger mat on the floor in front of the door. The rain wasn’t too bad but it was still enough to make a mess.
Down and back up the stairs several times helped me to empty the car itself. I drank a soda and ate the last of the deli food while I emptied the bags and tubs that was the first load. I split the other store bags so I could use them to cover the floor even more. Clothes were temporarily placed on the closet floor. Books were lined up on the built-in shelves beside the fireplace but would have to wait to be organized properly. Towels and such were put on the shelves in the pantry. My purse went in the drawer of the chifforobe and my make-up bag hung inside on the bathroom door. The emptied plastic tubs and bins were stacked neatly out of the way in the far end of the pantry as well. I found my charging cord for my phone and plugged it up, hoping eventually to get it recharged so I could see just how bad phone service was going to be. Not that I needed it. Who was I planning on calling? Certainly no one would be calling me.
It felt like I had brought more up but I hadn’t. Now came the harder part. Down and up and down and up I went bringing stuff in from the car’s trunk and then switching to the trailer when that was emptied. The rain was letting up but was being replaced by a chilly fog of nearly pea soup consistency. Every four or five tubs and bags I would stop to see if I could put anything away. Still no power so I turned the car on to see what time it was and was surprised to find it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. Boy, was my internal clock off.
It was at that point that I needed to start moving some of the heavier and more awkward items. I managed to get the pieces of the bed, my mother’s chair, and a couple of end tables up the stairs before I had to stop once again to neaten up the mess I was creating. The bed was easy to put together but it sat there without the mattress set so I couldn’t put the bedding on it or hide the under the bed boxes beneath it. I put my mother’s chair over near the fireplace along with a floor lamp but no power, no light. The old, poofy foot stool that my grandmother had covered in needle point fit out of the way beneath the chair and the antique telephone table I put near the door as a handy place to put my keys and other things of that nature. Card table remained folded and put in the pantry. I also stacked all of the food boxes and boxes of cleaning supplies in the pantry and firmly closed the door.
Knowing exactly how heavy the cedar chests were I was thinking about emptying them when a couple of men on horseback showed up. It surprised me to see Mr. Crocker was one of them.
“Ms. Field!”
“Mr. Crocker.”
“Let me introduce Reggie and Bernie.”
As politely as I could manage I said, “We met last night.”
“Ah yes. So I gather from Mr. Haines. I …” He stopped and looked at something behind and above my head. I turned to look but couldn’t tell what had caught his attention.
“Ms. Field, do you have electric?”
“I did until there was a big flash. I’m not sure what time it was, not long after I dropped Mr. Haines off at the Big House.”
“Well that would explain why you didn’t pick up the phone.”
“What phone?”
He didn’t respond for a moment then asked, “Would you mind if I take a look inside?”
“Uh … I … I guess not. But doesn’t that … er … break the rules?”
He stopped and then gave me an approving smile before saying, “We’ll leave the door open and my wife is on the way with a few things to welcome you to Haines Estate.”
“Oh … that’s … that’s not necessary.”
He pretty much ignored me and encouraged me to go up the stairs and then inside. He blinked and said, “You’ve been busy.” He really blinked when he saw the bed frame assembled through the open door. “Ms. Field you didn’t need to do all of that lifting yourself.”
“I’ve done it many times but there are still a couple of pieces I need help with. The mattress and box springs and two filled cedar chests. If the chests are too heavy I can leave them in the trailer with the tool chest that I already plan to do the same thing with.”
“Absolutely not. Let me get the boys going on that and …”
But he didn’t have to get them going. Reggie and Bernie may have their shortcomings but a willingness to work and muscles to go with it isn’t one of them. All four items were brought up and put where I requested as Mr. Crocker walked around making notes. “Bernie? I was told the phone line here to the Cottage had been installed.”
“It was Mr. Crocker. But then it had to be uninstalled when them inspection people from the phone company came out and told Bob he had to run new lines to meet code.”
“And the electric?”
“Reggie done checked the breaker box and the problem ain’t here. As soon as we finish with that last chest we’ll follow the lines back and see if some lightning hit one of the poles between here and the substation.” He turned to me and said, “If you can wait I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t use the stove or oven. The starter on that thing is electric.”
“I grew up using a gas stove so I understand. But thank you for the warning.”
The man suddenly blushed furiously and took off back down the stairs sounding like a clockwork tin soldier that had sprung a spring. I bit my lips and tried not to look at Mr. Crocker but once I did I found him smiling. “Bernie is a good man. A little slow and backwoodsy in some areas but it doesn’t normally interfere with his work.”
I just nodded. Counseling had encouraged me to learn that you don’t have to take back words if they never leave your mouth.
That’s when I heard, “Yoohoo, anyone at home?”
Mr. Crocker stepped onto the deck and said, “Up here Syliva.”
A woman with just enough silver in her hair to make her look regal, even wearing a bluejean skirt and a plaid work shirt, came up the stairs. Looking at her husband after giving me a welcoming smile she said, “I take it things are a little at sixes and sevens.”
Mr. Crocker rolled his eyes and said, “No electric. No phone. The shades weren’t even installed. I’m not happy. It puts a bad face on for new employees.”
That was too much. “Mr. Crocker, I arrived early and was grateful to have a place to arrive to. I’m from Florida. Weather-related electricity outages aren’t exactly something unheard of for me. The phone is only a problem if it inhibits me from being able to do my job. I’m sure everything else will happen when it happens. I’m just thankful to have some help moving the heavy items.” The last I said so that Reggie and Bernie heard and I also told them I had some cold bottles of water since they’d worked up a sweat. They accepted gratefully and then took off to “follow the lines.”
Mr. Crocker left to ride on to the Big House and Mrs. Crocker stayed to ask if I needed anything else or had any questions.
I did and since she was offering I asked. “Sorry if some of the questions seem a little silly or obvious.”
“Don’t worry about it Ms. Field … or may I call you Shanna?”
“Please do.”
“Call me Sylvia then. There isn’t a lot of formality between staff members but even though we try and discourage it, the upper staff sometimes get set apart from the other staffing levels. Your age may help with that somewhat, but you may also find yourself caught betwixt and between whether you encourage that or not. Technically you are upper staff due to your position, but I want to assure you that you’re also free to socialize with whomever you are most comfortable with. As for the Haines families, each will let you know what they expect you to call them and don’t get offended if some of them seem a little stiff; they’re just that way, it isn’t personal. With time they’ll unbend, or so has been my experience.”
“That answers one question,” I said with a smile. It didn’t tell me what my precise place is in the social food chain was but it did let me know that there is one and that I’d need to keep it in mind when I interacted with others.
“Next question?” she said with a laugh.
“Laundry. I saw the clothes line to the side of the cottage but no washer. Is there a staff laundromat or …?”
Slightly surprised she responded, “Well you’re a bit more practical than most of the new employees we’ve taken on over the years.”
Startled by her reaction I asked, “Is that a problem?”
She went from surprised to a genuine smile as she answered, “No. Not at all. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. It’s actually refreshing. We have so many young staff members that … well … we’ve had to add to our interviewing process when we discovered how … er … unskilled some of them were as far as their daily living needs. To answer you, there is a staff laundromat but with your proximity to the Big House Mr. Haines will doubtless expect you to use the facilities there. There are a limited number of dryers on the Estate however we try and dry all that we can on clothes lines to avoid over taxing the substation. You’ll find that Mr. Haines is … er, particular … when it comes to that issue. Most of the main houses already have solar as do the main dormitory buildings and offices, but we continue to need electric lines until the alternative energy production can be completely brought in line with our energy usage … or perhaps more to the point, our energy usage with our alternative energy production.” I nodded my understanding.
She pointed to a box that sat on the table. “Welcome to Haines Estate. There’s some literature and a sampling from most of the businesses run on the estate. There’s also a boxed meal that should get you through the remainder of the day. I would suggest putting it in the refrigerator but that wouldn’t do much good at the moment.”
“I have the cooler and there is still some ice.”
“Good. And I bet your next question is about your meals.”
“Good quess,” I laughed because of the grinning look on her face. “Will I cook the majority of my meals here or does Mr. Haines have expectations?”
“Mr. Haines and his expectations is a discussion in and of itself,” she said still grinning. “The man comes and goes at will and sometimes Staff are at pains to keep up. You’ll need to get with him and be ready to deal with his odd fits and starts, but usually you’ll eat one or two meals at the Big House on your full days, one meal there on your half days, and on Sunday you are on your own. Mr. Haines usually dines with one or more of the other member families on that day. And since you are a practical woman let me give you some practical advice.” Her smiled dimmed a bit but it didn’t disappear. It told me she was serious but still wanted to take the sting away that could have been felt had it been put in other ways. “Mr. Haines is not the type of man to tolerate mothering or smothering. He would prefer to run his own life, his own way, but the house has started to suffer from neglect from his bachelor lifestyle. He also needs to start reciprocating social obligations rather than constantly being on the receiving end. Be as unobtrusive as you can … and don’t get offended if he’s a little …”
“Set in his ways?”
Sylvia laughed out loud and admitted, “That is a very diplomatic way of saying it but yes, pretty much that exactly. He may seem young, he’s just this side of thirty-five, but he’s an old soul, and I’ve been told always been like that to a certain extent. As you become familiar with him you’ll understand what I mean.”
I had already picked up on the fact that Mr. Haines was somewhat old-fashioned – certainly more old-fashioned than many men his age that I’d interacted with.
Sylvia drew my attention away from my thoughts when she added, “And here’s another piece of practical advice. When you go to town? Try and get as much shopping done as you can. There is a staff store here at the Estate but it is more designed for emergency purchases rather than normal grocery shopping. It would be even better if you could save up and arrange to get to Asheville where the prices are better even than Bryson City. Many of the staff carpool on their days off and do shopping for others while they are out doing their own. I’d actually encourage you to take a day before you are scheduled to start and get your first trip knocked out of the way.”
Choosing my words carefully I said, “I suspected I’d run into that type of situation based on some of the things your husband mentioned during the interviewing process and from things in the literature I was given to read. I came with some supplies just in case. However, I already have another list started.”
“Excellent,” she said with another smile and nod. The refrigerator made a buzzing noise and then we could both tell it had come on. I put my hand on it to feel it vibrating and then opened it to find the light working. Sylvia grinned in relief. “They found the problem. That will make George happy. Now is there anything else?”
“Well since we were on the issue of food and supplies, could you give me an idea of what are some of the more common items people keep stocked?”
She started listing things off and I quickly had to grab a notepad and pen to write things down because I realized I hadn’t been as thorough as I had considered myself to be. Afterwards she left and I started thinking that maybe a trip to Asheville was in my immediate future after all.
Chapter 7
I woke to an annoying buzz and thin, gray light. I also woke to find that it was still raining.
I peeled my face from the floor where it had stuck from dried drool, identified the sound as a mosquito which I then stopped with extreme prejudice, and after that crawling to the refrigerator discovered the power was still off. If nothing else my luck is consistent.
It was use the bathroom or else, so after that was taken care of I decided I had no choice but to grab my ship’s rudder and try to steer a better course. First, I picked everything off of the floor that I had dumped there the night before. I neatened everything into stacks on the table before splitting the Dollar Tree bag so it could open into a bigger mat on the floor in front of the door. The rain wasn’t too bad but it was still enough to make a mess.
Down and back up the stairs several times helped me to empty the car itself. I drank a soda and ate the last of the deli food while I emptied the bags and tubs that was the first load. I split the other store bags so I could use them to cover the floor even more. Clothes were temporarily placed on the closet floor. Books were lined up on the built-in shelves beside the fireplace but would have to wait to be organized properly. Towels and such were put on the shelves in the pantry. My purse went in the drawer of the chifforobe and my make-up bag hung inside on the bathroom door. The emptied plastic tubs and bins were stacked neatly out of the way in the far end of the pantry as well. I found my charging cord for my phone and plugged it up, hoping eventually to get it recharged so I could see just how bad phone service was going to be. Not that I needed it. Who was I planning on calling? Certainly no one would be calling me.
It felt like I had brought more up but I hadn’t. Now came the harder part. Down and up and down and up I went bringing stuff in from the car’s trunk and then switching to the trailer when that was emptied. The rain was letting up but was being replaced by a chilly fog of nearly pea soup consistency. Every four or five tubs and bags I would stop to see if I could put anything away. Still no power so I turned the car on to see what time it was and was surprised to find it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. Boy, was my internal clock off.
It was at that point that I needed to start moving some of the heavier and more awkward items. I managed to get the pieces of the bed, my mother’s chair, and a couple of end tables up the stairs before I had to stop once again to neaten up the mess I was creating. The bed was easy to put together but it sat there without the mattress set so I couldn’t put the bedding on it or hide the under the bed boxes beneath it. I put my mother’s chair over near the fireplace along with a floor lamp but no power, no light. The old, poofy foot stool that my grandmother had covered in needle point fit out of the way beneath the chair and the antique telephone table I put near the door as a handy place to put my keys and other things of that nature. Card table remained folded and put in the pantry. I also stacked all of the food boxes and boxes of cleaning supplies in the pantry and firmly closed the door.
Knowing exactly how heavy the cedar chests were I was thinking about emptying them when a couple of men on horseback showed up. It surprised me to see Mr. Crocker was one of them.
“Ms. Field!”
“Mr. Crocker.”
“Let me introduce Reggie and Bernie.”
As politely as I could manage I said, “We met last night.”
“Ah yes. So I gather from Mr. Haines. I …” He stopped and looked at something behind and above my head. I turned to look but couldn’t tell what had caught his attention.
“Ms. Field, do you have electric?”
“I did until there was a big flash. I’m not sure what time it was, not long after I dropped Mr. Haines off at the Big House.”
“Well that would explain why you didn’t pick up the phone.”
“What phone?”
He didn’t respond for a moment then asked, “Would you mind if I take a look inside?”
“Uh … I … I guess not. But doesn’t that … er … break the rules?”
He stopped and then gave me an approving smile before saying, “We’ll leave the door open and my wife is on the way with a few things to welcome you to Haines Estate.”
“Oh … that’s … that’s not necessary.”
He pretty much ignored me and encouraged me to go up the stairs and then inside. He blinked and said, “You’ve been busy.” He really blinked when he saw the bed frame assembled through the open door. “Ms. Field you didn’t need to do all of that lifting yourself.”
“I’ve done it many times but there are still a couple of pieces I need help with. The mattress and box springs and two filled cedar chests. If the chests are too heavy I can leave them in the trailer with the tool chest that I already plan to do the same thing with.”
“Absolutely not. Let me get the boys going on that and …”
But he didn’t have to get them going. Reggie and Bernie may have their shortcomings but a willingness to work and muscles to go with it isn’t one of them. All four items were brought up and put where I requested as Mr. Crocker walked around making notes. “Bernie? I was told the phone line here to the Cottage had been installed.”
“It was Mr. Crocker. But then it had to be uninstalled when them inspection people from the phone company came out and told Bob he had to run new lines to meet code.”
“And the electric?”
“Reggie done checked the breaker box and the problem ain’t here. As soon as we finish with that last chest we’ll follow the lines back and see if some lightning hit one of the poles between here and the substation.” He turned to me and said, “If you can wait I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t use the stove or oven. The starter on that thing is electric.”
“I grew up using a gas stove so I understand. But thank you for the warning.”
The man suddenly blushed furiously and took off back down the stairs sounding like a clockwork tin soldier that had sprung a spring. I bit my lips and tried not to look at Mr. Crocker but once I did I found him smiling. “Bernie is a good man. A little slow and backwoodsy in some areas but it doesn’t normally interfere with his work.”
I just nodded. Counseling had encouraged me to learn that you don’t have to take back words if they never leave your mouth.
That’s when I heard, “Yoohoo, anyone at home?”
Mr. Crocker stepped onto the deck and said, “Up here Syliva.”
A woman with just enough silver in her hair to make her look regal, even wearing a bluejean skirt and a plaid work shirt, came up the stairs. Looking at her husband after giving me a welcoming smile she said, “I take it things are a little at sixes and sevens.”
Mr. Crocker rolled his eyes and said, “No electric. No phone. The shades weren’t even installed. I’m not happy. It puts a bad face on for new employees.”
That was too much. “Mr. Crocker, I arrived early and was grateful to have a place to arrive to. I’m from Florida. Weather-related electricity outages aren’t exactly something unheard of for me. The phone is only a problem if it inhibits me from being able to do my job. I’m sure everything else will happen when it happens. I’m just thankful to have some help moving the heavy items.” The last I said so that Reggie and Bernie heard and I also told them I had some cold bottles of water since they’d worked up a sweat. They accepted gratefully and then took off to “follow the lines.”
Mr. Crocker left to ride on to the Big House and Mrs. Crocker stayed to ask if I needed anything else or had any questions.
I did and since she was offering I asked. “Sorry if some of the questions seem a little silly or obvious.”
“Don’t worry about it Ms. Field … or may I call you Shanna?”
“Please do.”
“Call me Sylvia then. There isn’t a lot of formality between staff members but even though we try and discourage it, the upper staff sometimes get set apart from the other staffing levels. Your age may help with that somewhat, but you may also find yourself caught betwixt and between whether you encourage that or not. Technically you are upper staff due to your position, but I want to assure you that you’re also free to socialize with whomever you are most comfortable with. As for the Haines families, each will let you know what they expect you to call them and don’t get offended if some of them seem a little stiff; they’re just that way, it isn’t personal. With time they’ll unbend, or so has been my experience.”
“That answers one question,” I said with a smile. It didn’t tell me what my precise place is in the social food chain was but it did let me know that there is one and that I’d need to keep it in mind when I interacted with others.
“Next question?” she said with a laugh.
“Laundry. I saw the clothes line to the side of the cottage but no washer. Is there a staff laundromat or …?”
Slightly surprised she responded, “Well you’re a bit more practical than most of the new employees we’ve taken on over the years.”
Startled by her reaction I asked, “Is that a problem?”
She went from surprised to a genuine smile as she answered, “No. Not at all. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. It’s actually refreshing. We have so many young staff members that … well … we’ve had to add to our interviewing process when we discovered how … er … unskilled some of them were as far as their daily living needs. To answer you, there is a staff laundromat but with your proximity to the Big House Mr. Haines will doubtless expect you to use the facilities there. There are a limited number of dryers on the Estate however we try and dry all that we can on clothes lines to avoid over taxing the substation. You’ll find that Mr. Haines is … er, particular … when it comes to that issue. Most of the main houses already have solar as do the main dormitory buildings and offices, but we continue to need electric lines until the alternative energy production can be completely brought in line with our energy usage … or perhaps more to the point, our energy usage with our alternative energy production.” I nodded my understanding.
She pointed to a box that sat on the table. “Welcome to Haines Estate. There’s some literature and a sampling from most of the businesses run on the estate. There’s also a boxed meal that should get you through the remainder of the day. I would suggest putting it in the refrigerator but that wouldn’t do much good at the moment.”
“I have the cooler and there is still some ice.”
“Good. And I bet your next question is about your meals.”
“Good quess,” I laughed because of the grinning look on her face. “Will I cook the majority of my meals here or does Mr. Haines have expectations?”
“Mr. Haines and his expectations is a discussion in and of itself,” she said still grinning. “The man comes and goes at will and sometimes Staff are at pains to keep up. You’ll need to get with him and be ready to deal with his odd fits and starts, but usually you’ll eat one or two meals at the Big House on your full days, one meal there on your half days, and on Sunday you are on your own. Mr. Haines usually dines with one or more of the other member families on that day. And since you are a practical woman let me give you some practical advice.” Her smiled dimmed a bit but it didn’t disappear. It told me she was serious but still wanted to take the sting away that could have been felt had it been put in other ways. “Mr. Haines is not the type of man to tolerate mothering or smothering. He would prefer to run his own life, his own way, but the house has started to suffer from neglect from his bachelor lifestyle. He also needs to start reciprocating social obligations rather than constantly being on the receiving end. Be as unobtrusive as you can … and don’t get offended if he’s a little …”
“Set in his ways?”
Sylvia laughed out loud and admitted, “That is a very diplomatic way of saying it but yes, pretty much that exactly. He may seem young, he’s just this side of thirty-five, but he’s an old soul, and I’ve been told always been like that to a certain extent. As you become familiar with him you’ll understand what I mean.”
I had already picked up on the fact that Mr. Haines was somewhat old-fashioned – certainly more old-fashioned than many men his age that I’d interacted with.
Sylvia drew my attention away from my thoughts when she added, “And here’s another piece of practical advice. When you go to town? Try and get as much shopping done as you can. There is a staff store here at the Estate but it is more designed for emergency purchases rather than normal grocery shopping. It would be even better if you could save up and arrange to get to Asheville where the prices are better even than Bryson City. Many of the staff carpool on their days off and do shopping for others while they are out doing their own. I’d actually encourage you to take a day before you are scheduled to start and get your first trip knocked out of the way.”
Choosing my words carefully I said, “I suspected I’d run into that type of situation based on some of the things your husband mentioned during the interviewing process and from things in the literature I was given to read. I came with some supplies just in case. However, I already have another list started.”
“Excellent,” she said with another smile and nod. The refrigerator made a buzzing noise and then we could both tell it had come on. I put my hand on it to feel it vibrating and then opened it to find the light working. Sylvia grinned in relief. “They found the problem. That will make George happy. Now is there anything else?”
“Well since we were on the issue of food and supplies, could you give me an idea of what are some of the more common items people keep stocked?”
She started listing things off and I quickly had to grab a notepad and pen to write things down because I realized I hadn’t been as thorough as I had considered myself to be. Afterwards she left and I started thinking that maybe a trip to Asheville was in my immediate future after all.
Chapter 8
Another two-fer to keep the story moving ... LOL
-----------------------
Chapter 8
I may have been raised by parents who grew up in the country, but I grew up in a big city where security issues were simply a fact of life. I backed the trailer into one bay of the garage and backed my car into the other and then dropped the doors. It might have been over cautious but on the garage door that closed the bay the trailer was in I undid the wires so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside. Lastly I blocked the trailer’s wheels and put a lock on the hitch and side door of the trailer; the rear panel door was already blocked due to it being against the rear wall, but it had a lock on it as well.
There was no air conditioning in the cottage, not even a window shaker, so I added a floor fan to my growing shopping list. It is only May so it isn’t anywhere close to hot by Florida standards, but it was humid and the dampness was something I could live without … and would when possible. I also added curtain rods to my list. There were brackets already nailed in but the rods were missing and even if shades were on request – or so said the work invoice Mr. Crocker left me – I wanted to hang curtains to minimize the “box” feeling the Cottage still currently had. I also didn’t like the idea that someone could just stare in and see everything. I may have been on a second floor but it still wouldn’t have been all that hard to climb a tree and get a good look inside … or even just stand a few yards away and use field glasses.
Right now I had the windows open to catch the cross breeze and air things out. I had just finished making the bed when I heard a female voice say, “Geez, I’ve worked here almost two seasons and I didn’t know this was back here. I knew it was around just … I mean this is a little strange. A ‘gate house’? Seriously? What century are we living in?”
Another female voice said, “Don’t feel bad. I’ve been here twice as long as you have and I’ve never seen the place either.”
“Who used it before the new chick?”
“Shhhh! Keep your voice down.”
“Ooops, sorry. Seriously though, who used it?”
“No one from what I understand. Or at least no one for a long time. It was used to store old files and junk. Remember all those files we had to scan and shred a few weeks ago so they could put the papers in the compost bins? Apparently this is where most of them came from.”
“This must be the place Shelly was talking about then. She was on the work crew that cleaned this place out. Apparently it isn’t the perk for being upper staff that others think it is. It isn’t even a whole house but this rinky dink apartment that is smaller than the pods where we live. She said it is like completely old-fashioned and junk. The bathroom is vomit pink of all things with these awful avocado green tiles on the floor and wall. The electric like had to be upgraded and you know Mr. Bob was all out of sorts about it and he’s so totally laid back about everything. And the whole interior is wood, including the floor and ceiling. Like the same wood on every surface. Can you imagine?”
“Sounds like summer at Grandma’s.”
“Not my grandmother’s. She lives in Palm Springs.”
“Get out! Then what are you doing here?!”
“Because my mother can’t stand her and she can’t stand mom. She thinks she has prevented my dad from reaching his full potential or something like that. And both of them drive me crazy trying to get me to take sides. Ugh. And if it wasn’t taking sides about family stuff it is telling me everything I am doing wrong and that I should have taken bookkeeping rather than get a Liberal Arts degree since I can’t find a job in my field. Or my grandmother wanting to introduce me to the grandsons of all her white-haired retiree friends. The last guy was a plumber and she kept going on and on about the money he makes and all I could do was try not and say something about plumber’s crack. I was going crazy until I got this job so I could get away; even if it is just working the winter campgrounds and running summer tourists along the Nantahala. It pays decent and one more winter and I’ll have enough saved to get my Master’s degree … assuming I can find a couple of roommates to share expenses with. I know some of you lust after getting permanent status around here but that’s not my dealio … this is just a job and then I want out to go back to live in civilization.”
They were silent for a moment and I thought about going out and introducing myself until one of them said, “I heard she’s like only twenty-five and is already divorced at least once.”
“I know. That’s so sad. I wonder if it was her fault or his.”
“Does it matter? A divorce is a divorce. Although, Bernie said she seemed nice.”
“Bernie thinks every female is nice … until she isn’t. I hope she isn’t the type to manipulate guys like Bernie and Reggie. I mean I know they’re kinda slow but … just … you know?”
“Maybe. But what I heard is there weren’t any women on the hiring committee this time. She might have spun them a sad tale and they hired her because she pulled on their heartstrings.”
There was a cynical chuckle then the other one said, “I bet it wasn’t their heartstrings she was pulling on. Did you hear she picked Mr. Haines up at some airport?”
“Yeah, but I think you’re off base there. Mr. Crocker is a major stick in the mud and Mr. Haines is just plain cranky most of the time. No way would I want to be stuck with him in the car for that long. But anything is possible; Bernie and Reggie haven’t got the greatest track record when it comes to judging females.”
“Yeah. Maybe we should keep an eye on her or something. It’s up to us to protect them.”
That’s when I heard a third woman’s voice. “Aren’t you acting like she is guilty until proven innocent?”
The more nervous of the first two voices squeaked, “Oh! Geez Maddie, wear a bell or something.”
Miss Suspicious chimed in with, “Yeah Maddie. Were you following us for some reason?”
“Nope. Just up here being as obnoxiously nosey as you two. I want at least a glimpse of the paragon it took them almost a year to find that met Mr. Haines’ high standards same as you.”
An “aaahhooooogaaaa” made me jump and then there was the sound of wheels on gravel. I heard an aggravated, “Was that necessary Reggie?”
“Oh … sorry Mr. Haines. I was just letting the girls know we were coming down the road towards them.”
“And what if Ms. Field was trying to rest? My understanding is that she had her trailer emptied before you and Bernie showed up.”
A little defensively Reggie responded, “We carried her mattress up and two things she called cedar chests. Besides, it was raining and then the fog rolled in.”
“The rain and fog didn’t stop Ms. Field and she’d been driving all the way from Florida.”
I ground my teeth and thought this was not the kind of thing I needed on top of the theories other people were already putting forth. I mussed my hair a little and stepped out of the door onto the deck. “Mr. Haines? I thought I heard your voice. Is there something I can do for you?”
I must have looked pretty rough because he grimaced. “We woke you.”
Trying not to lie I said, “I don’t usually fall asleep in the middle of the day. I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting.”
“You haven’t. I just came by to see if Bob had come to install the phone yet.”
“No, I’m sorry Sir he hasn’t. Do you need me for something?”
Showing some hesitation he said, “Actually … actually I do. I know Crocker said you had a couple of days … and you will … but would you consider coming to the House now and assist with the monthly inventories and order?”
“Give me a moment to change and I’ll meet you …”
“I’ll wait and Bernie can drive us.”
“Uh … the rules?”
“Rules? Oh … the rules. Of course. Uh …”
One of the girls volunteered, “I’ll ride along and then walk back.”
Reggie grinned and said, “Thanks Maddie.”
So a face and name to go with the voice. A sun-kissed blonde that didn’t look like it came out of a bottle, lean figure, and pretty rather than cute like the other two girls. I felt like roadkill beside her.
I quickly went inside, shut the windows, changed into a work “uniform” and was down before the girls could finish grilling Reggie on the damage done by last night’s storm. I looked around for Mr. Haines until Reggie pointed to the back of the Cottage. I went to find and let him know I was ready to go only to find him looking around with a critical eye.
“Mr. Haines?”
“You haven’t started on the garden yet.”
Wanting to ask him how on earth he thought I’d had time to even consider it but instead said, “I purchased books on garden crafting but I need to research the microenvironment in this area before I can tell whether anything I have with me gives me enough information to work with. Anything else will just be a waste of time.”
He blinked and then said, “You … you know was I being facetious. Right? I may be accused of many things but lunacy isn’t generally one of them. I do realize you’ve been on the Estate for less than twenty-four hours.”
Actually I hadn’t known it. Deciding it was time to get a little bit of my own back I responded in kind by answering, “I thought it prudent to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He just looked at me and realized I was fighting back a smile and then before more could be made of it I said, “I’m ready if you are.” I turned to leave right as his mouth opened.
My glee at his surprise lasted all of two seconds before I turned around in shame and said, “I apologize Mr. Haines. I was out of line. It’s been a long …” I stopped and then added shamefully, “It won’t happen again.”
I turned and walked quietly and with a face as blank as I could make it to stand by the golf cart. Mr. Haines followed, thankfully not looking like I was about to be fired before I could even start. He and Reggie were in the front and I got into the rear-facing seat and the woman named Maddie in the other.
“Hi. I’m Maddie.”
“How do you do. I’m Mr. Haines’ housekeeper.”
“Uh … yeah. So I heard. Uh … where are you from?”
“Florida.”
“What part?”
“South Florida.”
“Land of hurricanes.”
“Occasionally.”
We started bumping along and were almost bumped out a couple of times making small talk blessedly impossible. I had already embarrassed myself once, the last thing I wanted to do was dig the hole deeper having to explain having no friends or family and that I hadn’t even left a forwarding address at my last residence, or worse, having to explain that yes I was a twenty-five year old divorce’ and yes my ex had a point about it being primarily my fault.
As soon as Reggie stopped the golf cart I hopped out and looked at Mr. Haines. Mr. Haines told Reggie, “Don’t wait for me. I’m going to be a while. Take … er … Maddie and go pick up the other girls and see if they need a lift someplace.”
“Sure thing Mr. Haines! Hang on Maddie, I’ll try and catch up with the girls!”
The golf cart nearly spun out and Maddie looked a little alarmed at the turn of events. Some other time might have found me trying to hold in a giggle but for the moment all I could do was worry at the lecture that was coming.
Instead Mr. Haines said, “Let me show you around first. It will make it easier to visualize what I’m referring to for some things.”
He explained, “The side that faces the drive is actually the rear of the Big House. The more ornate front faces the river which is how most trade and travel was accomplished when the House was initially built.” I followed him and saw a wide, semi-circular verandah covered by the balcony of the second floor, that was only partially covered by a small third floor balcony. The long, floor-to-ceiling windows up there had shutters that were closed. There were several terraces leading down to a small, pebble covered landing.
“The overland trail is shorter these days, and less likely to end in both people and goods at the bottom of the river. We call the whole kit and caboodle Haines Estate with the main gate being located on the other side of the estate and which is where most of the business occurs. In my great-great grandfather’s day there was a town called Haines Station which had its own postal identity but it was abandoned for economic reasons not too long after WWI.”
“I’ve read a few accounts of those days. My own family settled near the Chatooga before migrating into South Florida. Some of the family of that time helped Henry Flagler build his railroad line and later ones help build the Tamiami Trail.” When he looked at me I blanched. “Sorry, please continue.”
“Actually Ms. Field I consider family history to be very interesting. Mine … and that of others.”
“Yes Sir.”
For some reason he sighed and he continued to point out features of the house and immediate surroundings. When we entered the house I could immediately see what Mr. Crocker’s wife had been talking about. The more he showed me the more I could see what some of my first duties would need to be. The house wasn’t a mess but it was all the little things that weren’t being done that were taking a toll. I’d had to learn the hard way the first year of my marriage that you couldn’t let things slide or it became twice as hard to catch up than if you’d done it the right way the first time around. Mr. Haines was one man living in an overlarge house. Without someone specifically dedicated to cleaning and maintenance the house was slowly falling into disrepair, not from intentional neglect but because of the logistics required to keep things up.
On the main floor, but away from the main living spaces, Mr. Haines led me through a hallway before saying, “The kitchen is a bit … er …” He shrugged and said, “It needs additional updating, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
My first view of the large rooms wasn’t as bad as he had led me to believe based on his hesitation. Some of the appliances were modern as was the plumbing. The sink on the other hand was antique soapstone and was big enough I could have gone swimming in it. Neither was the stove one of the updated items and it was nearly as old as the sink and looked like something that the witch from the story of Hansel and Gretel would have lusted after. However, I knew if I could learn to cook on the cranky old behemoth at the restaurant at the historical museum that had been my first job, I could conquer this one. Overall I kept getting flashes of the kitchen and pantries I’d seen at the home of John Ringling in Sarasota. Lots of cubbyholes to hold dishes, cooking equipment, and food plus if I didn’t miss my guess the old built-in ice boxes were still in use, though apparently now electrified. The major difference I noted was that in reverse of the Cottage, most of the rooms in the Big House, including the kitchen, were light and airy with high ceilings and painted or silk-covered walls to add color where the plaster wasn’t blindingly white … or would be white after a thorough cleaning. Even the old servants’ quarters were white plaster with stained glass windows high on the wall and transom windows above the doors.
He seemed surprised at my reception and acceptance of the facilities I would be working in but continued to the reason he’d called me to come into work early. “Through here is your office.”
“My office?” I asked in surprise.
“I suppose technically it was the housekeeper’s sitting room or parlor or something along those lines but an office is what it is now. There’s also a butler’s pantry … where you saw all the dishes and pots and pans stacked everywhere.” We walked in and I found one wall to be nothing but filing cabinets. Another wall was nothing but shelves containing books … ledgers, house account books, journals, books on the Estate itself, and even several books on the very subjects I had hoped to find in Bryson City or Asheville. It had not one but two windows on the outside wall and both faced the area that Mr. Haines had called the Kitchen Garden. Smack in the middle of the room was an old metal desk and a couple of newer, ergonomic rolling office chairs.
He directed me to sit in a chair in front of the desk but surprised me by pulling the other over to my side rather than stay behind the desk. He picked up a clip board and handed it to me. It looked a lot like the order forms I used to see the restaurant manager use. Whoever had designed it knew what they were doing.
He explained, “We have a monthly ordering schedule and then there are smaller weekly orders for perishables like milk and eggs and fresh meat. It’s preferred that everything is ordered in as advance as possible, or set up as a regular order item. I put everything on hold while I was gone and since I’ve been away for the better part of a month, the shelves are pretty bare. I hadn’t realized how bare until I tried to make myself some breakfast this morning. Have you had lunch yet?”
I was looking over the form and a little carelessly said, “I usually only eat a full meal once or twice a day.” I noticed the silence and looked up. “Oh. Mrs. Crocker was kind enough to bring me a box lunch. I’m fine thank you.”
“I heard. But that isn’t the question I asked. I asked if you had eaten lunch yet.”
“No. I’ve been busy. I’ll rectify that when I return to the …”
He sighed. “Ms. Field what I’m trying to ask and obviously doing a bad job of it is would you mind showing me what you can cook. I … er … haven’t eaten yet.”
“Oh. Oh! Why didn’t you say so?!” I hopped up and headed back to the main pantry he’d shown me. He was correct, there wasn’t much but there were some canned mushrooms, some cheese, a container of canned milk, and a carton of eggs that hadn’t gone over. And then remembering something I grabbed a pair of kitchen shears out of the putcher block and stepped out onto the patio. He was following me around and then got a cautious look when he saw me clipping some weeds.
“Er …”
“Chickweed.”
I’d surprised him. “That’s chickweed? You’re sure?” He said it like he knew what it was … at least in a technical sense, but on the other hand didn’t know enough to recognize it in his own patio garden.
By way of explanation I told him, “I had to pull enough of the stuff out of my grandmother’s garden while I was growing up. You did say you wanted to experiment with foraging.”
“Yes I did … I’d just like to live to experiment more than once.”
Once again I wasn’t certain if he was exhibiting a bit of dry humor or if he was serious. I ignored both possibilities and simply did the job I had been hired to do. It didn’t take long to pull together a chickweed, mushroom, and cheese omelet. I ate a small piece at his insistence but he inhaled the rest after one cautious bite. He looked at me very seriously afterwards and intoned, “You’re hired.”
“Oh. Uh … thank you. I accept.”
We quickly got back on more comfortable ground and worked out a reasonable facsimile of a month-long menu that he could live with and that I could prepare from the ingredients available to be ordered at this time. He seemed quite happy that I remembered he preferred simple yet filling meals.
“I like gravy but too many of them cream sauces give me indigestion. And I like cheese but it doesn’t have to be the fancy stuff. In fact, my mother used to make this pimento cheese spread from a block of Velveeta and I still can’t find a replacement for it.”
“A replacement? You don’t like it anymore?”
“What I mean is that I haven’t been able to find it in the stores. The stuff they sell is called pimiento cheese but it tastes like … ah … it doesn’t taste very good in my opinion.”
I was discovering Mr. Haines was earthier and more human than he had initially appeared. “Would you like me to make you some?”
He just looked at me. “You know I’ve had people offer that before but it never tastes quite the same.”
“More than likely they are using mayo instead of Miracle Whip and they probably forget to put the pepper in. I have to go to Bryson City in the next day or two. I’ll stop at a grocery and see if they have the ingredients. Did she ever put it on bread and broil it? My mother and grandmother would do that on occasion.”
Instead of answering he asked, “What else?”
“What else what?”
“What else did your mother make? Name me some of your favorites … that she taught you to cook.”
It was a strange request but one easily fulfilled. “Yellow cake and warm chocolate sauce. Apple pie pork chops. Country fried steak. Mashed potatoes from real potatoes … with lumps in them. Skillet fried mushrooms. Homestyle green beans. When the budget got tight she’d fix white beans with ham hocks, stewed potatoes, and cornbread; or, a big pot of chili that she would add elbow macaroni to to make it go further. Fried grits. Homemade biscuits with briar rabbit brand sorghum molasses mixed with real butter. Fried green tomatoes. And my grandmother’s made-from-scratch vegetable soup that was so thick it was almost a stew.”
“Can … can you cook all that?”
If I hadn’t promised myself to keep my mouth in a lock box I would have asked if he wanted a bib. Instead, all I said was, “I can.”
“Ms. Field, if you can cook like that I will be a very happy employer.”
Trying to judge some future meal option possibilities I asked, “Do you like leftovers?”
“Lived on ‘em as a kid. My mother was my grandfather’s housekeeper.” He saw me struggle not to ask the impertinent question and he smiled, if a little sadly. “My father was killed on the river before I was born … before he and my mother could marry. My grandfather chose to raise me in his house but my mother’s pride wouldn’t let her accept what she considered charity. It worked out.” He saw my shock and said, “You didn’t know. Crocker said you did backgrounds on us to make sure we were legitimate.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry if I gave a poor impression. I know it may sound strange considering I’ve already told you about my genealogy hobby but in all honesty I was more interested in the men you’ve become rather than where you’ve come from. You can start out with all the advantages … or none … but what you do with what you were born into and what you become because of it or despite it …” I shrugged. “I limited my research to your current public activities as an adult. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I wasn’t offended Ms. Field. In fact it showed some wisdom and that offset the issue I had with your age. I still expect you’ll want a different life before your contract is up for renewal.”
“Mr. Haines, it … it isn’t in my plans. When I signed that contract it was with the full knowledge and acceptance of what it would mean in terms of … of entanglements.”
Looking a little uncomfortable he said, “Ms. Field, I’d … I’d like to ask something personal and there is no good way to ask it but I feel the need to.” I tensed but nodded. “Was your marriage abusive? Is that why you left?”
Talk about embarrassing. “You … you haven’t spoken with Mr. Crocker about this I take it.”
“No. Should I have?”
“I simply expected that you both … anyway … he asked and … and I was … honest and …” I shook my head. “Look. My husband left me, not the other way around. A lot happened in our lives in the time we were married. Instead of it making us stronger it … it had the opposite effect. We both had faults … he was simply tired of … tired of waiting for …” To my shame I felt my eyes watering and I turned to look out the window rather than let him see though I’m sure that wasn’t exactly something he had to guess at.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked … however I promise it wasn’t idle curiosity Ms. Field. One or two of the young men in the extended family make a habit out of … hazing the newer female staff members. I’ve done what I can to mitigate it, including refusing to hire them on my side of the partnership unless and until they clean their act up. Their parents are more permissive and they still work for Haines Partnership, just not in any sector that I have direct control of. But if you are a susceptible young woman …”
I wanted to gag. “Thank you for the warning but my di … divorce hasn’t even been finalized six months. The last thing I am with regard to the opposite sex is ‘susceptible.’ And if they are gonna be a jerk … er … I mean …”
“Jerk is mild compared to some of the things I’ve called them. I just want it clear that I would go out of my way to discourage any type of connection in that direction. I also want it clear that if you have any trouble from anyone … Haines family connection or not … I do expect to be informed. Crocker is your boss administratively, but I am your employer. I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“Er … yes Sir but I assure you I don’t have any problems with the rules.”
“Good.” He sighed. “Should I expect your ex-husband to be contacting you here?”
“I don’t see how. I didn’t leave a forwarding address and changed my phone number. Nor does he have my email address. I told no one where I was going and … and I left my apartment in the middle of the night.”
“You what?!”
Still feeling ashamed I said, “I wanted a new life. Needed a new life. I didn’t have anything or anyone left there … not … not really. I’ll probably send Christmas cards or email birthday greetings to some of my cousins later this year when they start appearing on the calendar but that’s about it … and none of them lived near me, and still don’t from here. Mr. Haines, I don’t want the so-called ‘new life’ of freedom that some divorcees seem to crave; I just want a new life that lets me leave the old one … and the old me … behind. This job is the opportunity I need to do that. In return I intend to do everything in my power to meet your expectations. I’ll try and exceed them where possible. Please give me the opportunity to prove it.”
“Relax Ms. Field. I agreed to a probationary period and I don’t go back on my word. I just want to be sure what we both have to work with.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I suppose I must be realistic. People are going to be curious. I don’t count Mr. Haines’ questions as curiosity per se but they still made me extremely uncomfortable. His assumption that he needed to determine whether I was going to be “susceptible” to certain types of overtures felt a little insulting to be honest but I can see it from his side. Haines Estate is a huge tract of land but the people on it are relatively few and interact like a community, and more than a few of the people on the estate are related to each other in some way. Like any community there has to be rules … and at least one individual willing to enforce the rules … and enforce the consequences for not following the rules. My employer Mr. Haines is that person for Haines Estate.
I spent about three hours at the Big House working with Mr. Haines and preparing the order forms. It was time well-spent and I have a more concrete idea of what some of my duties will be. I also found out that meal planning and cooking, while a primary part of my employment, Mr. Haines had also hired me because of my familiarity with computers … and because of my experience as a high school teacher.
“Ms. Field you know that part of your contract that outlined your job duties?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Do you remember the part of that that stated ‘and other duties as required’?”
More cautiously I said, “Yes Sir.”
After a moment he said, “Frankly your job might be better called House Manager rather than simply housekeeper. This house hasn’t had an inventory done since my father was a boy and even then it wasn’t particularly thorough, especially after my grandmother began her collecting mania. From what I’ve been told my great grandmother was just as bad at collecting things just to have a set or to say she had the latest gadget or whatnot. What I’d like to do is go room by room and thoroughly inventory every item. It is going to be a huge undertaking because after writing everything down I want to build a database.”
“Do you have a template yet?”
“Excuse me?”
“A template for your inventory. If not I know that MS Access has a really good inventory database template that you can even attach pictures to item by item. Put it on an external hard drive and …”
“Whoa. Back up and pretend my experience with this sort of thing is nil.”
“Uh …”
“Ms. Field I hired you because of your experience in certain areas. Given how quickly you took a simple idea and made it manageable I assume your experience covers this.”
Sighing I said, “Actually it is something I had to come up with while we were splitting everything during the divorce. Kirk’s lawyer liked to play … let’s just say it took a while before I learned to … er … defend myself against some of her tactics. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it did and as a result I had a hole I had to dig myself out of to catch up with how the distribution of assets was being manipulated. One way I put things on a more equal footing was to actually know what had to be split and what each item was worth or where it came from … in detail. The reason why I’m so familiar with MS Access and the other MS Office programs is because it was practically a requirement in college to have more than a working knowledge of them. It isn’t anything special.”
“Ms. Field, do not underestimate a willingness to be helpful. And with that I need to outline one of your other primary duties.”
Another two-fer to keep the story moving ... LOL
-----------------------
Chapter 8
I may have been raised by parents who grew up in the country, but I grew up in a big city where security issues were simply a fact of life. I backed the trailer into one bay of the garage and backed my car into the other and then dropped the doors. It might have been over cautious but on the garage door that closed the bay the trailer was in I undid the wires so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside. Lastly I blocked the trailer’s wheels and put a lock on the hitch and side door of the trailer; the rear panel door was already blocked due to it being against the rear wall, but it had a lock on it as well.
There was no air conditioning in the cottage, not even a window shaker, so I added a floor fan to my growing shopping list. It is only May so it isn’t anywhere close to hot by Florida standards, but it was humid and the dampness was something I could live without … and would when possible. I also added curtain rods to my list. There were brackets already nailed in but the rods were missing and even if shades were on request – or so said the work invoice Mr. Crocker left me – I wanted to hang curtains to minimize the “box” feeling the Cottage still currently had. I also didn’t like the idea that someone could just stare in and see everything. I may have been on a second floor but it still wouldn’t have been all that hard to climb a tree and get a good look inside … or even just stand a few yards away and use field glasses.
Right now I had the windows open to catch the cross breeze and air things out. I had just finished making the bed when I heard a female voice say, “Geez, I’ve worked here almost two seasons and I didn’t know this was back here. I knew it was around just … I mean this is a little strange. A ‘gate house’? Seriously? What century are we living in?”
Another female voice said, “Don’t feel bad. I’ve been here twice as long as you have and I’ve never seen the place either.”
“Who used it before the new chick?”
“Shhhh! Keep your voice down.”
“Ooops, sorry. Seriously though, who used it?”
“No one from what I understand. Or at least no one for a long time. It was used to store old files and junk. Remember all those files we had to scan and shred a few weeks ago so they could put the papers in the compost bins? Apparently this is where most of them came from.”
“This must be the place Shelly was talking about then. She was on the work crew that cleaned this place out. Apparently it isn’t the perk for being upper staff that others think it is. It isn’t even a whole house but this rinky dink apartment that is smaller than the pods where we live. She said it is like completely old-fashioned and junk. The bathroom is vomit pink of all things with these awful avocado green tiles on the floor and wall. The electric like had to be upgraded and you know Mr. Bob was all out of sorts about it and he’s so totally laid back about everything. And the whole interior is wood, including the floor and ceiling. Like the same wood on every surface. Can you imagine?”
“Sounds like summer at Grandma’s.”
“Not my grandmother’s. She lives in Palm Springs.”
“Get out! Then what are you doing here?!”
“Because my mother can’t stand her and she can’t stand mom. She thinks she has prevented my dad from reaching his full potential or something like that. And both of them drive me crazy trying to get me to take sides. Ugh. And if it wasn’t taking sides about family stuff it is telling me everything I am doing wrong and that I should have taken bookkeeping rather than get a Liberal Arts degree since I can’t find a job in my field. Or my grandmother wanting to introduce me to the grandsons of all her white-haired retiree friends. The last guy was a plumber and she kept going on and on about the money he makes and all I could do was try not and say something about plumber’s crack. I was going crazy until I got this job so I could get away; even if it is just working the winter campgrounds and running summer tourists along the Nantahala. It pays decent and one more winter and I’ll have enough saved to get my Master’s degree … assuming I can find a couple of roommates to share expenses with. I know some of you lust after getting permanent status around here but that’s not my dealio … this is just a job and then I want out to go back to live in civilization.”
They were silent for a moment and I thought about going out and introducing myself until one of them said, “I heard she’s like only twenty-five and is already divorced at least once.”
“I know. That’s so sad. I wonder if it was her fault or his.”
“Does it matter? A divorce is a divorce. Although, Bernie said she seemed nice.”
“Bernie thinks every female is nice … until she isn’t. I hope she isn’t the type to manipulate guys like Bernie and Reggie. I mean I know they’re kinda slow but … just … you know?”
“Maybe. But what I heard is there weren’t any women on the hiring committee this time. She might have spun them a sad tale and they hired her because she pulled on their heartstrings.”
There was a cynical chuckle then the other one said, “I bet it wasn’t their heartstrings she was pulling on. Did you hear she picked Mr. Haines up at some airport?”
“Yeah, but I think you’re off base there. Mr. Crocker is a major stick in the mud and Mr. Haines is just plain cranky most of the time. No way would I want to be stuck with him in the car for that long. But anything is possible; Bernie and Reggie haven’t got the greatest track record when it comes to judging females.”
“Yeah. Maybe we should keep an eye on her or something. It’s up to us to protect them.”
That’s when I heard a third woman’s voice. “Aren’t you acting like she is guilty until proven innocent?”
The more nervous of the first two voices squeaked, “Oh! Geez Maddie, wear a bell or something.”
Miss Suspicious chimed in with, “Yeah Maddie. Were you following us for some reason?”
“Nope. Just up here being as obnoxiously nosey as you two. I want at least a glimpse of the paragon it took them almost a year to find that met Mr. Haines’ high standards same as you.”
An “aaahhooooogaaaa” made me jump and then there was the sound of wheels on gravel. I heard an aggravated, “Was that necessary Reggie?”
“Oh … sorry Mr. Haines. I was just letting the girls know we were coming down the road towards them.”
“And what if Ms. Field was trying to rest? My understanding is that she had her trailer emptied before you and Bernie showed up.”
A little defensively Reggie responded, “We carried her mattress up and two things she called cedar chests. Besides, it was raining and then the fog rolled in.”
“The rain and fog didn’t stop Ms. Field and she’d been driving all the way from Florida.”
I ground my teeth and thought this was not the kind of thing I needed on top of the theories other people were already putting forth. I mussed my hair a little and stepped out of the door onto the deck. “Mr. Haines? I thought I heard your voice. Is there something I can do for you?”
I must have looked pretty rough because he grimaced. “We woke you.”
Trying not to lie I said, “I don’t usually fall asleep in the middle of the day. I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting.”
“You haven’t. I just came by to see if Bob had come to install the phone yet.”
“No, I’m sorry Sir he hasn’t. Do you need me for something?”
Showing some hesitation he said, “Actually … actually I do. I know Crocker said you had a couple of days … and you will … but would you consider coming to the House now and assist with the monthly inventories and order?”
“Give me a moment to change and I’ll meet you …”
“I’ll wait and Bernie can drive us.”
“Uh … the rules?”
“Rules? Oh … the rules. Of course. Uh …”
One of the girls volunteered, “I’ll ride along and then walk back.”
Reggie grinned and said, “Thanks Maddie.”
So a face and name to go with the voice. A sun-kissed blonde that didn’t look like it came out of a bottle, lean figure, and pretty rather than cute like the other two girls. I felt like roadkill beside her.
I quickly went inside, shut the windows, changed into a work “uniform” and was down before the girls could finish grilling Reggie on the damage done by last night’s storm. I looked around for Mr. Haines until Reggie pointed to the back of the Cottage. I went to find and let him know I was ready to go only to find him looking around with a critical eye.
“Mr. Haines?”
“You haven’t started on the garden yet.”
Wanting to ask him how on earth he thought I’d had time to even consider it but instead said, “I purchased books on garden crafting but I need to research the microenvironment in this area before I can tell whether anything I have with me gives me enough information to work with. Anything else will just be a waste of time.”
He blinked and then said, “You … you know was I being facetious. Right? I may be accused of many things but lunacy isn’t generally one of them. I do realize you’ve been on the Estate for less than twenty-four hours.”
Actually I hadn’t known it. Deciding it was time to get a little bit of my own back I responded in kind by answering, “I thought it prudent to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He just looked at me and realized I was fighting back a smile and then before more could be made of it I said, “I’m ready if you are.” I turned to leave right as his mouth opened.
My glee at his surprise lasted all of two seconds before I turned around in shame and said, “I apologize Mr. Haines. I was out of line. It’s been a long …” I stopped and then added shamefully, “It won’t happen again.”
I turned and walked quietly and with a face as blank as I could make it to stand by the golf cart. Mr. Haines followed, thankfully not looking like I was about to be fired before I could even start. He and Reggie were in the front and I got into the rear-facing seat and the woman named Maddie in the other.
“Hi. I’m Maddie.”
“How do you do. I’m Mr. Haines’ housekeeper.”
“Uh … yeah. So I heard. Uh … where are you from?”
“Florida.”
“What part?”
“South Florida.”
“Land of hurricanes.”
“Occasionally.”
We started bumping along and were almost bumped out a couple of times making small talk blessedly impossible. I had already embarrassed myself once, the last thing I wanted to do was dig the hole deeper having to explain having no friends or family and that I hadn’t even left a forwarding address at my last residence, or worse, having to explain that yes I was a twenty-five year old divorce’ and yes my ex had a point about it being primarily my fault.
As soon as Reggie stopped the golf cart I hopped out and looked at Mr. Haines. Mr. Haines told Reggie, “Don’t wait for me. I’m going to be a while. Take … er … Maddie and go pick up the other girls and see if they need a lift someplace.”
“Sure thing Mr. Haines! Hang on Maddie, I’ll try and catch up with the girls!”
The golf cart nearly spun out and Maddie looked a little alarmed at the turn of events. Some other time might have found me trying to hold in a giggle but for the moment all I could do was worry at the lecture that was coming.
Instead Mr. Haines said, “Let me show you around first. It will make it easier to visualize what I’m referring to for some things.”
He explained, “The side that faces the drive is actually the rear of the Big House. The more ornate front faces the river which is how most trade and travel was accomplished when the House was initially built.” I followed him and saw a wide, semi-circular verandah covered by the balcony of the second floor, that was only partially covered by a small third floor balcony. The long, floor-to-ceiling windows up there had shutters that were closed. There were several terraces leading down to a small, pebble covered landing.
“The overland trail is shorter these days, and less likely to end in both people and goods at the bottom of the river. We call the whole kit and caboodle Haines Estate with the main gate being located on the other side of the estate and which is where most of the business occurs. In my great-great grandfather’s day there was a town called Haines Station which had its own postal identity but it was abandoned for economic reasons not too long after WWI.”
“I’ve read a few accounts of those days. My own family settled near the Chatooga before migrating into South Florida. Some of the family of that time helped Henry Flagler build his railroad line and later ones help build the Tamiami Trail.” When he looked at me I blanched. “Sorry, please continue.”
“Actually Ms. Field I consider family history to be very interesting. Mine … and that of others.”
“Yes Sir.”
For some reason he sighed and he continued to point out features of the house and immediate surroundings. When we entered the house I could immediately see what Mr. Crocker’s wife had been talking about. The more he showed me the more I could see what some of my first duties would need to be. The house wasn’t a mess but it was all the little things that weren’t being done that were taking a toll. I’d had to learn the hard way the first year of my marriage that you couldn’t let things slide or it became twice as hard to catch up than if you’d done it the right way the first time around. Mr. Haines was one man living in an overlarge house. Without someone specifically dedicated to cleaning and maintenance the house was slowly falling into disrepair, not from intentional neglect but because of the logistics required to keep things up.
On the main floor, but away from the main living spaces, Mr. Haines led me through a hallway before saying, “The kitchen is a bit … er …” He shrugged and said, “It needs additional updating, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
My first view of the large rooms wasn’t as bad as he had led me to believe based on his hesitation. Some of the appliances were modern as was the plumbing. The sink on the other hand was antique soapstone and was big enough I could have gone swimming in it. Neither was the stove one of the updated items and it was nearly as old as the sink and looked like something that the witch from the story of Hansel and Gretel would have lusted after. However, I knew if I could learn to cook on the cranky old behemoth at the restaurant at the historical museum that had been my first job, I could conquer this one. Overall I kept getting flashes of the kitchen and pantries I’d seen at the home of John Ringling in Sarasota. Lots of cubbyholes to hold dishes, cooking equipment, and food plus if I didn’t miss my guess the old built-in ice boxes were still in use, though apparently now electrified. The major difference I noted was that in reverse of the Cottage, most of the rooms in the Big House, including the kitchen, were light and airy with high ceilings and painted or silk-covered walls to add color where the plaster wasn’t blindingly white … or would be white after a thorough cleaning. Even the old servants’ quarters were white plaster with stained glass windows high on the wall and transom windows above the doors.
He seemed surprised at my reception and acceptance of the facilities I would be working in but continued to the reason he’d called me to come into work early. “Through here is your office.”
“My office?” I asked in surprise.
“I suppose technically it was the housekeeper’s sitting room or parlor or something along those lines but an office is what it is now. There’s also a butler’s pantry … where you saw all the dishes and pots and pans stacked everywhere.” We walked in and I found one wall to be nothing but filing cabinets. Another wall was nothing but shelves containing books … ledgers, house account books, journals, books on the Estate itself, and even several books on the very subjects I had hoped to find in Bryson City or Asheville. It had not one but two windows on the outside wall and both faced the area that Mr. Haines had called the Kitchen Garden. Smack in the middle of the room was an old metal desk and a couple of newer, ergonomic rolling office chairs.
He directed me to sit in a chair in front of the desk but surprised me by pulling the other over to my side rather than stay behind the desk. He picked up a clip board and handed it to me. It looked a lot like the order forms I used to see the restaurant manager use. Whoever had designed it knew what they were doing.
He explained, “We have a monthly ordering schedule and then there are smaller weekly orders for perishables like milk and eggs and fresh meat. It’s preferred that everything is ordered in as advance as possible, or set up as a regular order item. I put everything on hold while I was gone and since I’ve been away for the better part of a month, the shelves are pretty bare. I hadn’t realized how bare until I tried to make myself some breakfast this morning. Have you had lunch yet?”
I was looking over the form and a little carelessly said, “I usually only eat a full meal once or twice a day.” I noticed the silence and looked up. “Oh. Mrs. Crocker was kind enough to bring me a box lunch. I’m fine thank you.”
“I heard. But that isn’t the question I asked. I asked if you had eaten lunch yet.”
“No. I’ve been busy. I’ll rectify that when I return to the …”
He sighed. “Ms. Field what I’m trying to ask and obviously doing a bad job of it is would you mind showing me what you can cook. I … er … haven’t eaten yet.”
“Oh. Oh! Why didn’t you say so?!” I hopped up and headed back to the main pantry he’d shown me. He was correct, there wasn’t much but there were some canned mushrooms, some cheese, a container of canned milk, and a carton of eggs that hadn’t gone over. And then remembering something I grabbed a pair of kitchen shears out of the putcher block and stepped out onto the patio. He was following me around and then got a cautious look when he saw me clipping some weeds.
“Er …”
“Chickweed.”
I’d surprised him. “That’s chickweed? You’re sure?” He said it like he knew what it was … at least in a technical sense, but on the other hand didn’t know enough to recognize it in his own patio garden.
By way of explanation I told him, “I had to pull enough of the stuff out of my grandmother’s garden while I was growing up. You did say you wanted to experiment with foraging.”
“Yes I did … I’d just like to live to experiment more than once.”
Once again I wasn’t certain if he was exhibiting a bit of dry humor or if he was serious. I ignored both possibilities and simply did the job I had been hired to do. It didn’t take long to pull together a chickweed, mushroom, and cheese omelet. I ate a small piece at his insistence but he inhaled the rest after one cautious bite. He looked at me very seriously afterwards and intoned, “You’re hired.”
“Oh. Uh … thank you. I accept.”
We quickly got back on more comfortable ground and worked out a reasonable facsimile of a month-long menu that he could live with and that I could prepare from the ingredients available to be ordered at this time. He seemed quite happy that I remembered he preferred simple yet filling meals.
“I like gravy but too many of them cream sauces give me indigestion. And I like cheese but it doesn’t have to be the fancy stuff. In fact, my mother used to make this pimento cheese spread from a block of Velveeta and I still can’t find a replacement for it.”
“A replacement? You don’t like it anymore?”
“What I mean is that I haven’t been able to find it in the stores. The stuff they sell is called pimiento cheese but it tastes like … ah … it doesn’t taste very good in my opinion.”
I was discovering Mr. Haines was earthier and more human than he had initially appeared. “Would you like me to make you some?”
He just looked at me. “You know I’ve had people offer that before but it never tastes quite the same.”
“More than likely they are using mayo instead of Miracle Whip and they probably forget to put the pepper in. I have to go to Bryson City in the next day or two. I’ll stop at a grocery and see if they have the ingredients. Did she ever put it on bread and broil it? My mother and grandmother would do that on occasion.”
Instead of answering he asked, “What else?”
“What else what?”
“What else did your mother make? Name me some of your favorites … that she taught you to cook.”
It was a strange request but one easily fulfilled. “Yellow cake and warm chocolate sauce. Apple pie pork chops. Country fried steak. Mashed potatoes from real potatoes … with lumps in them. Skillet fried mushrooms. Homestyle green beans. When the budget got tight she’d fix white beans with ham hocks, stewed potatoes, and cornbread; or, a big pot of chili that she would add elbow macaroni to to make it go further. Fried grits. Homemade biscuits with briar rabbit brand sorghum molasses mixed with real butter. Fried green tomatoes. And my grandmother’s made-from-scratch vegetable soup that was so thick it was almost a stew.”
“Can … can you cook all that?”
If I hadn’t promised myself to keep my mouth in a lock box I would have asked if he wanted a bib. Instead, all I said was, “I can.”
“Ms. Field, if you can cook like that I will be a very happy employer.”
Trying to judge some future meal option possibilities I asked, “Do you like leftovers?”
“Lived on ‘em as a kid. My mother was my grandfather’s housekeeper.” He saw me struggle not to ask the impertinent question and he smiled, if a little sadly. “My father was killed on the river before I was born … before he and my mother could marry. My grandfather chose to raise me in his house but my mother’s pride wouldn’t let her accept what she considered charity. It worked out.” He saw my shock and said, “You didn’t know. Crocker said you did backgrounds on us to make sure we were legitimate.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry if I gave a poor impression. I know it may sound strange considering I’ve already told you about my genealogy hobby but in all honesty I was more interested in the men you’ve become rather than where you’ve come from. You can start out with all the advantages … or none … but what you do with what you were born into and what you become because of it or despite it …” I shrugged. “I limited my research to your current public activities as an adult. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“I wasn’t offended Ms. Field. In fact it showed some wisdom and that offset the issue I had with your age. I still expect you’ll want a different life before your contract is up for renewal.”
“Mr. Haines, it … it isn’t in my plans. When I signed that contract it was with the full knowledge and acceptance of what it would mean in terms of … of entanglements.”
Looking a little uncomfortable he said, “Ms. Field, I’d … I’d like to ask something personal and there is no good way to ask it but I feel the need to.” I tensed but nodded. “Was your marriage abusive? Is that why you left?”
Talk about embarrassing. “You … you haven’t spoken with Mr. Crocker about this I take it.”
“No. Should I have?”
“I simply expected that you both … anyway … he asked and … and I was … honest and …” I shook my head. “Look. My husband left me, not the other way around. A lot happened in our lives in the time we were married. Instead of it making us stronger it … it had the opposite effect. We both had faults … he was simply tired of … tired of waiting for …” To my shame I felt my eyes watering and I turned to look out the window rather than let him see though I’m sure that wasn’t exactly something he had to guess at.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked … however I promise it wasn’t idle curiosity Ms. Field. One or two of the young men in the extended family make a habit out of … hazing the newer female staff members. I’ve done what I can to mitigate it, including refusing to hire them on my side of the partnership unless and until they clean their act up. Their parents are more permissive and they still work for Haines Partnership, just not in any sector that I have direct control of. But if you are a susceptible young woman …”
I wanted to gag. “Thank you for the warning but my di … divorce hasn’t even been finalized six months. The last thing I am with regard to the opposite sex is ‘susceptible.’ And if they are gonna be a jerk … er … I mean …”
“Jerk is mild compared to some of the things I’ve called them. I just want it clear that I would go out of my way to discourage any type of connection in that direction. I also want it clear that if you have any trouble from anyone … Haines family connection or not … I do expect to be informed. Crocker is your boss administratively, but I am your employer. I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“Er … yes Sir but I assure you I don’t have any problems with the rules.”
“Good.” He sighed. “Should I expect your ex-husband to be contacting you here?”
“I don’t see how. I didn’t leave a forwarding address and changed my phone number. Nor does he have my email address. I told no one where I was going and … and I left my apartment in the middle of the night.”
“You what?!”
Still feeling ashamed I said, “I wanted a new life. Needed a new life. I didn’t have anything or anyone left there … not … not really. I’ll probably send Christmas cards or email birthday greetings to some of my cousins later this year when they start appearing on the calendar but that’s about it … and none of them lived near me, and still don’t from here. Mr. Haines, I don’t want the so-called ‘new life’ of freedom that some divorcees seem to crave; I just want a new life that lets me leave the old one … and the old me … behind. This job is the opportunity I need to do that. In return I intend to do everything in my power to meet your expectations. I’ll try and exceed them where possible. Please give me the opportunity to prove it.”
“Relax Ms. Field. I agreed to a probationary period and I don’t go back on my word. I just want to be sure what we both have to work with.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I suppose I must be realistic. People are going to be curious. I don’t count Mr. Haines’ questions as curiosity per se but they still made me extremely uncomfortable. His assumption that he needed to determine whether I was going to be “susceptible” to certain types of overtures felt a little insulting to be honest but I can see it from his side. Haines Estate is a huge tract of land but the people on it are relatively few and interact like a community, and more than a few of the people on the estate are related to each other in some way. Like any community there has to be rules … and at least one individual willing to enforce the rules … and enforce the consequences for not following the rules. My employer Mr. Haines is that person for Haines Estate.
I spent about three hours at the Big House working with Mr. Haines and preparing the order forms. It was time well-spent and I have a more concrete idea of what some of my duties will be. I also found out that meal planning and cooking, while a primary part of my employment, Mr. Haines had also hired me because of my familiarity with computers … and because of my experience as a high school teacher.
“Ms. Field you know that part of your contract that outlined your job duties?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Do you remember the part of that that stated ‘and other duties as required’?”
More cautiously I said, “Yes Sir.”
After a moment he said, “Frankly your job might be better called House Manager rather than simply housekeeper. This house hasn’t had an inventory done since my father was a boy and even then it wasn’t particularly thorough, especially after my grandmother began her collecting mania. From what I’ve been told my great grandmother was just as bad at collecting things just to have a set or to say she had the latest gadget or whatnot. What I’d like to do is go room by room and thoroughly inventory every item. It is going to be a huge undertaking because after writing everything down I want to build a database.”
“Do you have a template yet?”
“Excuse me?”
“A template for your inventory. If not I know that MS Access has a really good inventory database template that you can even attach pictures to item by item. Put it on an external hard drive and …”
“Whoa. Back up and pretend my experience with this sort of thing is nil.”
“Uh …”
“Ms. Field I hired you because of your experience in certain areas. Given how quickly you took a simple idea and made it manageable I assume your experience covers this.”
Sighing I said, “Actually it is something I had to come up with while we were splitting everything during the divorce. Kirk’s lawyer liked to play … let’s just say it took a while before I learned to … er … defend myself against some of her tactics. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it did and as a result I had a hole I had to dig myself out of to catch up with how the distribution of assets was being manipulated. One way I put things on a more equal footing was to actually know what had to be split and what each item was worth or where it came from … in detail. The reason why I’m so familiar with MS Access and the other MS Office programs is because it was practically a requirement in college to have more than a working knowledge of them. It isn’t anything special.”
“Ms. Field, do not underestimate a willingness to be helpful. And with that I need to outline one of your other primary duties.”
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Sweet, I had to read in snatches between things here at home but it was worth it. Thank you. We are getting the winter things undone but with the idea that it could still snow on us for the next month.
Chapter 9
Chapter 9
“I had a sister.”
“Had?” I asked, making sure I understood.
“Correct. She was several years older than I … my father’s legitimate daughter from an earlier marriage that ended only because the woman mistook a turn on one of the roads during the winter and couldn’t correct in time to prevent going over the edge. Patrice – that was my sister’s name – took it hard as you can imagine. She refused to be comforted or helped through her grief. As soon as she was old enough she left the Estate to go away to college. She and Dad could have dealt with their loneliness with each other instead of … hell, you don’t need the psychobabble. Essentially, they both went searching for what they thought was missing and they both screwed up. Dad got involved in riskier and riskier adventures, had an affair with my mother, and ultimately died before he could get ahold of what was going on. He meant to … there is ample proof of that … but he didn’t get the chance. Patrice … our father dying just added to what was going on in her head. Only instead of learning from the mistakes of the past she repeated them. She married an older guy who already had children from another marriage that didn’t see her problems, but only the ‘fun’ of having a young, adventurous wife. Then Carra was born and it couldn’t be all fun and games anymore … only they refused to alter their lifestyle. Patrice caught a bacterial infection on one of their ‘adventures’ and she died six months later.”
“Sounds … er … a bit … um …”
“Sure does,” Mr. Haines said rubbing his forehead like another headache was forming. I realized he likely suffered from stress headaches and pulled out the small bottle of headache pills that have become my own most constant companion. He looked at the bottle, at me, and then took what was proffered and dry swallowed two like he had a lot of practice at it. “Thanks.”
“No problem. A cup of chamomile tea at night sometimes helps, sometimes not. But when it does help I’m grateful.”
“I’ll try anything at this point.” Then rubbing his neck he continued. “Carra’s father isn’t a bad guy necessarily, he just isn’t a good father. Even with the age issue he is more like a brother than a father to her. It is her oldest brother on that side that acts as the male authority figure.”
“And on this side of the family that position is filled by you.”
“Not … not intentionally. You see my grandfather … let me be frank. My grandfather was a good man but living in a misplaced century. He could be dictatorial even when he didn’t mean to come off that way. He also had the resources to get away with it and sometimes he did mean it. After my father’s death, my grandfather had tried to help Patrice as much as she would allow it. Then when she married Charles he claimed he’d washed his hands of the situation. When Carra was born … he changed his mind and Patrice eventually unbent enough that Grandfather became a real force in her young life, especially after Patrice herself died. Grandfather made sure that he did. During the school year she lived with her father. During the summer she lived with us. When Grandfather died five years ago the living arrangement was no longer in force but when it got closer to summer and Carra started realizing that things were going to change she became hysterical. Robert – Carra’s half-brother – called me and we agreed to let it ride so the arrangement has remained the same. Robert and I simply … take turns … being the father that Charles isn’t, can’t be, or won’t … neither of us has figured out which it is. The issue is that Robert has his wife and she helps out a lot when it comes to … er … female type communication with Carra. And even then …” Mr. Haines stopped, looked out the window and then said, “Last summer Carra was fourteen … and ‘fell in love’ with one of our younger summer employees. It didn’t … turn out well.”
Knowing teenagers and seeing something on Mr. Haines face I asked, “Did it go beyond ‘falling in love’?”
“You cut to the chase Ms. Field.”
“You hired me for my experience with high school age people. I’m being realistic based on my experience. Even though I was primarily a substitute teacher, I assure you I’ve seen a lot of so-called ‘falling in love’ that wasn’t really about love at all.”
“Well you hit the nail on the head. I caught the two of them red-handed. Hands was all it really was, the kid had managed to have just enough sense of self-preservation to keep it in his pants … but my understanding based on some conversations is that it wasn’t just a little slap and tickle either, pardon my crudity. She was barely fourteen. He was seventeen, would have been eighteen when college started. And I’m too damn old to think that’s cute. I didn’t handle it very well. I nearly chucked the kid in the river … from the top of the ravine. Crocker managed to work things out but my god, the drama. And then when Carra realized the kid had been in lust, not love, and maybe not lust but mostly just power-tripping … Yeezus it was like the world was coming to an end.”
“And you worried that the same thing that happened to your mother and Carra’s mother was about to happen to Carra.”
Calming down a bit Mr. Haines said, “Not quite, not at that moment anyway. My mother was forty-two when I was born … a little old for the trouble she got into but she didn’t regret keeping me. She was unmarried and childless … and my grandfather’s housekeeper. Lonely and … so was my father. It happened but they were old enough to deal with it … and would have if not for my father’s accident. Patrice … she made her choices. I wouldn’t make the same choices but I was never her, nor she me.”
“Then …?”
Looking slightly uncomfortable he finally explained, “Grandfather made me swear that regardless of what living arrangements Carra ultimately chose, that I would look after her. It was an obligation that he bound me to, just like he raised me to be bound to the Estate. I didn’t and don’t regret the Estate. I did balk a little bit about Carra … but it is more that our personalities … they don’t always mesh. Carra is a lot like my father’s wife from what I’m told and the stories go she was extremely strong-willed. Carra … for lack of a better explanation Carra tests me Ms. Field. She tests my patience mostly, but starting last summer she started testing my authority and it caused problems, not just between Carra and I but between me and other members of the family … and the staff who intentionally or unintentionally let that little peckerwood get away with what he was leading my niece into.”
“Okay. So what is my role?”
He stopped. Blinked. And then seemed to let the wind out of his sails. “Some of the other female family and staff that have insisted on weighing in on what happened said that I need a female intermediary to deal with Carra.”
“Why? If you are her father-figure here then act like it. She can challenge your authority but she can’t take that away … not at this stage of her life. I will tell you like some of my colleagues had to tell the parents of their students … a teacher can teach, set a good example, discipline in the classroom, lead them on academic matters, but a teacher’s authority ends at the edge of the school grounds. After that a parent has to step up to the plate and take a swing at it. Parents may be able to teach but a teacher cannot be a parent … not to the thirty to forty plus students in each of their classes for the limited amount of time we have with them. A teacher often has two hundred or so students to guide for a few hours a day, five days a week, about nine months of the year. It is hard enough to guide that many in academic matters. Anything else is unrealistic and ultimately steals his or her attention from some percentage of students in that two hundred or so that need it at least as much … and would benefit from it more.”
He stared at me then leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “And if she won’t let me?”
“Mr. Haines … where does the money come from? Who provides for her room and board while she is here? Who authorizes her extracurricular activities? Where does her transportation come from? Bottom line is who cares enough to put a roof over her head and food in her mouth, cares enough that they’d go looking for a particularly qualified housekeeper and not just one to sweep the floors and scrub the toilets?”
“Uh …”
“That’s you. She can balk. Will balk. But she’s going to be what? Fifteen? Time for her to learn … life lessons I suppose you’d call it. My parents, the teachers I had, put in front of me activities that helped me to grow and mature. They had expectations of behavior … and when I didn’t meet those expectations there were consequences. The action/consequences dynamic isn’t always easy for some people to learn; I know adults that still haven’t learned it and you probably do too. But it’s a concept easier to learn when you are younger and the consequences are less likely to be permanently life-changing – not always but usually – than say getting away with metaphorical murder and then once you are an adult have to learn that the universe doesn’t revolve around you. At her age she needs a set of responsibilities and a set of rewards for fulfilling those responsibilities … and those responsibilities should be teaching her daily living skills that she’ll be able to fall back on as an adult.”
“Suggestions.”
“Excuse me?”
“Give me some suggestions. Explain to me what you would do in my shoes.”
“Well … fine, but I suppose it makes me sound a bit of a spoiled brat. And I was spoiled but my parents never tolerated the bratty part.” I shrugged and just went with it. “I loved my parents but my first year of marriage was … good grief I realized I knew a whole lot less than I thought I did as far as managing my home and my finances. My cooking skillset was fairly extensive but that’s because my first job had been in the kitchen of a busy restaurant … and because my grandmothers thought it was scandalous how little girls knew before they had a home of their own … and sometimes even then. My mother taught me skills but they were about ‘doing’ as opposed to ‘managing’. My dad taught me the basic function of a checking account but he never really instilled in me the practice of saving or planning. They did it for me and thought there was plenty of time for me to grow up. My dad travelled a lot away from home so when he was home he wanted to have fun … so long as I behaved of course. It was my brother that … that took me off to the side and laid it on the line a few times when I was in high school. See, he was adopted and … he simply had a different way of seeing things. He was … he was also sensitive to … to rejection. Sorry, getting off the subject.”
“It’s all right Ms. Field. Sometimes those ‘off the subject’ subjects help me to understand better what someone is trying to say.”
“Thank you but …” I stopped and refocused. “What I’m trying to say is that I was capable of any given homemaker skill; however, doing them all in concert in an efficient manner was something I hadn’t been taught. It wasn’t until I started taking classroom management courses in college that I figured out what was missing. My lack of organizational skills created … problems; problems that put me behind the eight ball when life started happening to me in other ways. I was always playing catch up. Always.”
“Where was your husband in all of this?”
I snorted. “Dealing with his own set of crap … family stuff like losing first his father then his mother and having his sister go off the deep end and blaming him for something that wasn’t even his fault; and, pride issues like having left college thinking he was worth a million bucks only to constantly be met with false promises and layoffs. It was just a series of unfortunate events that happened one right after the other, never giving us time to recover in between. Cracks formed. Things would bang away at those cracks. The cracks would split. And out would pour … stuff. We could have survived what life threw at us but for some reason we didn’t. Partly my fault, partly his … but it all started because neither one of us had the life skills we thought we did.”
It took me a moment to put the memories back in the closet. “Skills,” I said again. “In your shoes, having experienced life the way I have, having learned the lessons I’ve been forced to learn, I would start with the basics … cooking, cleaning, knowing how to be responsible for a vehicle and all that that entails, budgeting, finding her place in the family and the responsibilities she is going to have as a member of this particular family. Would you have been ready at eighteen to be beneficiary of a trust of any size? How did your grandfather lead you into the position you now hold? Can you …”
He interrupted and said, “Ms. Field, in case I’ve failed to say it … thank you for accepting my offer of employment. I know I chose the right candidate. But truthfully? I’m rather … er … topped off for the moment and have to get to an Estate meeting. And trust me, being at the head of a table with eleven other women staring back at me with expectations …”
“Eleven?!”
“My great grandfather had two child … my grandfather and daughter. My grandfather only had the one son but his sister had eleven daughters. I’ll explain some other time. I wouldn’t wish walking into that situation blind on my worst enemy. Let me drive you back to the Cottage.”
It isn’t that I didn’t think about it but I was a bit topped off myself. “The rules.”
He thought for a moment then said, “Let me call you a ride.”
“Actually Mr. Haines, a walk will do me good and I’ll be walking the path daily for some time to come. And to be honest, I’ve sat just about all I can handle for now.”
“Very well. I’ll be in and out for the next few days so … how about we set this coming Monday as your first day? I’ll have the keys for you then and I’ll be prepared to cover a few more items at that time as well.”
“Yes Sir.”
Chapter 9
“I had a sister.”
“Had?” I asked, making sure I understood.
“Correct. She was several years older than I … my father’s legitimate daughter from an earlier marriage that ended only because the woman mistook a turn on one of the roads during the winter and couldn’t correct in time to prevent going over the edge. Patrice – that was my sister’s name – took it hard as you can imagine. She refused to be comforted or helped through her grief. As soon as she was old enough she left the Estate to go away to college. She and Dad could have dealt with their loneliness with each other instead of … hell, you don’t need the psychobabble. Essentially, they both went searching for what they thought was missing and they both screwed up. Dad got involved in riskier and riskier adventures, had an affair with my mother, and ultimately died before he could get ahold of what was going on. He meant to … there is ample proof of that … but he didn’t get the chance. Patrice … our father dying just added to what was going on in her head. Only instead of learning from the mistakes of the past she repeated them. She married an older guy who already had children from another marriage that didn’t see her problems, but only the ‘fun’ of having a young, adventurous wife. Then Carra was born and it couldn’t be all fun and games anymore … only they refused to alter their lifestyle. Patrice caught a bacterial infection on one of their ‘adventures’ and she died six months later.”
“Sounds … er … a bit … um …”
“Sure does,” Mr. Haines said rubbing his forehead like another headache was forming. I realized he likely suffered from stress headaches and pulled out the small bottle of headache pills that have become my own most constant companion. He looked at the bottle, at me, and then took what was proffered and dry swallowed two like he had a lot of practice at it. “Thanks.”
“No problem. A cup of chamomile tea at night sometimes helps, sometimes not. But when it does help I’m grateful.”
“I’ll try anything at this point.” Then rubbing his neck he continued. “Carra’s father isn’t a bad guy necessarily, he just isn’t a good father. Even with the age issue he is more like a brother than a father to her. It is her oldest brother on that side that acts as the male authority figure.”
“And on this side of the family that position is filled by you.”
“Not … not intentionally. You see my grandfather … let me be frank. My grandfather was a good man but living in a misplaced century. He could be dictatorial even when he didn’t mean to come off that way. He also had the resources to get away with it and sometimes he did mean it. After my father’s death, my grandfather had tried to help Patrice as much as she would allow it. Then when she married Charles he claimed he’d washed his hands of the situation. When Carra was born … he changed his mind and Patrice eventually unbent enough that Grandfather became a real force in her young life, especially after Patrice herself died. Grandfather made sure that he did. During the school year she lived with her father. During the summer she lived with us. When Grandfather died five years ago the living arrangement was no longer in force but when it got closer to summer and Carra started realizing that things were going to change she became hysterical. Robert – Carra’s half-brother – called me and we agreed to let it ride so the arrangement has remained the same. Robert and I simply … take turns … being the father that Charles isn’t, can’t be, or won’t … neither of us has figured out which it is. The issue is that Robert has his wife and she helps out a lot when it comes to … er … female type communication with Carra. And even then …” Mr. Haines stopped, looked out the window and then said, “Last summer Carra was fourteen … and ‘fell in love’ with one of our younger summer employees. It didn’t … turn out well.”
Knowing teenagers and seeing something on Mr. Haines face I asked, “Did it go beyond ‘falling in love’?”
“You cut to the chase Ms. Field.”
“You hired me for my experience with high school age people. I’m being realistic based on my experience. Even though I was primarily a substitute teacher, I assure you I’ve seen a lot of so-called ‘falling in love’ that wasn’t really about love at all.”
“Well you hit the nail on the head. I caught the two of them red-handed. Hands was all it really was, the kid had managed to have just enough sense of self-preservation to keep it in his pants … but my understanding based on some conversations is that it wasn’t just a little slap and tickle either, pardon my crudity. She was barely fourteen. He was seventeen, would have been eighteen when college started. And I’m too damn old to think that’s cute. I didn’t handle it very well. I nearly chucked the kid in the river … from the top of the ravine. Crocker managed to work things out but my god, the drama. And then when Carra realized the kid had been in lust, not love, and maybe not lust but mostly just power-tripping … Yeezus it was like the world was coming to an end.”
“And you worried that the same thing that happened to your mother and Carra’s mother was about to happen to Carra.”
Calming down a bit Mr. Haines said, “Not quite, not at that moment anyway. My mother was forty-two when I was born … a little old for the trouble she got into but she didn’t regret keeping me. She was unmarried and childless … and my grandfather’s housekeeper. Lonely and … so was my father. It happened but they were old enough to deal with it … and would have if not for my father’s accident. Patrice … she made her choices. I wouldn’t make the same choices but I was never her, nor she me.”
“Then …?”
Looking slightly uncomfortable he finally explained, “Grandfather made me swear that regardless of what living arrangements Carra ultimately chose, that I would look after her. It was an obligation that he bound me to, just like he raised me to be bound to the Estate. I didn’t and don’t regret the Estate. I did balk a little bit about Carra … but it is more that our personalities … they don’t always mesh. Carra is a lot like my father’s wife from what I’m told and the stories go she was extremely strong-willed. Carra … for lack of a better explanation Carra tests me Ms. Field. She tests my patience mostly, but starting last summer she started testing my authority and it caused problems, not just between Carra and I but between me and other members of the family … and the staff who intentionally or unintentionally let that little peckerwood get away with what he was leading my niece into.”
“Okay. So what is my role?”
He stopped. Blinked. And then seemed to let the wind out of his sails. “Some of the other female family and staff that have insisted on weighing in on what happened said that I need a female intermediary to deal with Carra.”
“Why? If you are her father-figure here then act like it. She can challenge your authority but she can’t take that away … not at this stage of her life. I will tell you like some of my colleagues had to tell the parents of their students … a teacher can teach, set a good example, discipline in the classroom, lead them on academic matters, but a teacher’s authority ends at the edge of the school grounds. After that a parent has to step up to the plate and take a swing at it. Parents may be able to teach but a teacher cannot be a parent … not to the thirty to forty plus students in each of their classes for the limited amount of time we have with them. A teacher often has two hundred or so students to guide for a few hours a day, five days a week, about nine months of the year. It is hard enough to guide that many in academic matters. Anything else is unrealistic and ultimately steals his or her attention from some percentage of students in that two hundred or so that need it at least as much … and would benefit from it more.”
He stared at me then leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “And if she won’t let me?”
“Mr. Haines … where does the money come from? Who provides for her room and board while she is here? Who authorizes her extracurricular activities? Where does her transportation come from? Bottom line is who cares enough to put a roof over her head and food in her mouth, cares enough that they’d go looking for a particularly qualified housekeeper and not just one to sweep the floors and scrub the toilets?”
“Uh …”
“That’s you. She can balk. Will balk. But she’s going to be what? Fifteen? Time for her to learn … life lessons I suppose you’d call it. My parents, the teachers I had, put in front of me activities that helped me to grow and mature. They had expectations of behavior … and when I didn’t meet those expectations there were consequences. The action/consequences dynamic isn’t always easy for some people to learn; I know adults that still haven’t learned it and you probably do too. But it’s a concept easier to learn when you are younger and the consequences are less likely to be permanently life-changing – not always but usually – than say getting away with metaphorical murder and then once you are an adult have to learn that the universe doesn’t revolve around you. At her age she needs a set of responsibilities and a set of rewards for fulfilling those responsibilities … and those responsibilities should be teaching her daily living skills that she’ll be able to fall back on as an adult.”
“Suggestions.”
“Excuse me?”
“Give me some suggestions. Explain to me what you would do in my shoes.”
“Well … fine, but I suppose it makes me sound a bit of a spoiled brat. And I was spoiled but my parents never tolerated the bratty part.” I shrugged and just went with it. “I loved my parents but my first year of marriage was … good grief I realized I knew a whole lot less than I thought I did as far as managing my home and my finances. My cooking skillset was fairly extensive but that’s because my first job had been in the kitchen of a busy restaurant … and because my grandmothers thought it was scandalous how little girls knew before they had a home of their own … and sometimes even then. My mother taught me skills but they were about ‘doing’ as opposed to ‘managing’. My dad taught me the basic function of a checking account but he never really instilled in me the practice of saving or planning. They did it for me and thought there was plenty of time for me to grow up. My dad travelled a lot away from home so when he was home he wanted to have fun … so long as I behaved of course. It was my brother that … that took me off to the side and laid it on the line a few times when I was in high school. See, he was adopted and … he simply had a different way of seeing things. He was … he was also sensitive to … to rejection. Sorry, getting off the subject.”
“It’s all right Ms. Field. Sometimes those ‘off the subject’ subjects help me to understand better what someone is trying to say.”
“Thank you but …” I stopped and refocused. “What I’m trying to say is that I was capable of any given homemaker skill; however, doing them all in concert in an efficient manner was something I hadn’t been taught. It wasn’t until I started taking classroom management courses in college that I figured out what was missing. My lack of organizational skills created … problems; problems that put me behind the eight ball when life started happening to me in other ways. I was always playing catch up. Always.”
“Where was your husband in all of this?”
I snorted. “Dealing with his own set of crap … family stuff like losing first his father then his mother and having his sister go off the deep end and blaming him for something that wasn’t even his fault; and, pride issues like having left college thinking he was worth a million bucks only to constantly be met with false promises and layoffs. It was just a series of unfortunate events that happened one right after the other, never giving us time to recover in between. Cracks formed. Things would bang away at those cracks. The cracks would split. And out would pour … stuff. We could have survived what life threw at us but for some reason we didn’t. Partly my fault, partly his … but it all started because neither one of us had the life skills we thought we did.”
It took me a moment to put the memories back in the closet. “Skills,” I said again. “In your shoes, having experienced life the way I have, having learned the lessons I’ve been forced to learn, I would start with the basics … cooking, cleaning, knowing how to be responsible for a vehicle and all that that entails, budgeting, finding her place in the family and the responsibilities she is going to have as a member of this particular family. Would you have been ready at eighteen to be beneficiary of a trust of any size? How did your grandfather lead you into the position you now hold? Can you …”
He interrupted and said, “Ms. Field, in case I’ve failed to say it … thank you for accepting my offer of employment. I know I chose the right candidate. But truthfully? I’m rather … er … topped off for the moment and have to get to an Estate meeting. And trust me, being at the head of a table with eleven other women staring back at me with expectations …”
“Eleven?!”
“My great grandfather had two child … my grandfather and daughter. My grandfather only had the one son but his sister had eleven daughters. I’ll explain some other time. I wouldn’t wish walking into that situation blind on my worst enemy. Let me drive you back to the Cottage.”
It isn’t that I didn’t think about it but I was a bit topped off myself. “The rules.”
He thought for a moment then said, “Let me call you a ride.”
“Actually Mr. Haines, a walk will do me good and I’ll be walking the path daily for some time to come. And to be honest, I’ve sat just about all I can handle for now.”
“Very well. I’ll be in and out for the next few days so … how about we set this coming Monday as your first day? I’ll have the keys for you then and I’ll be prepared to cover a few more items at that time as well.”
“Yes Sir.”
Last edited:
Chapter 10
Chapter 10
The walk back did help me to clear my head and catch my second wind. And I needed it; I had a lot to do and a lot to think about.
No one was around when I got back to the Cottage but there was a note on the door. “Bob” would be by the next day to re-install the phone and to put some type of surge protector on the Cottage as well. I was also to expect the shades to arrive … and be installed, the propane tank to be filled, and a load of wood to be delivered because apparently there was a late cold snap expected. Jolly. There was also another box.
I scooted the box inside the Cottage after I managed to finally convince the lock to turn and the door to open. Before I did anything else I went over to my list and added graphite and liquid wrench as I had done the stupid and given those two items away when I had been cleaning out my brother’s tools before I moved them to the last storage unit.
The box was too unwieldy for me to lift so I opened it while it was still on the floor. Inside I found a black, waterproof jacket with a removable lining, three pair of black tights – two heavy and one lighter weight, a pair of black rubber boots in my size (that explains that question), a hard plastic one-gallon jug I eventually learned was for water storage, and a smaller box that was the reason for the weight of the bigger box. Inside it was a large black flashlight with three large lantern batteries, a mag flashlight with two extra sets of batteries, a solar … well I believe it is a lamp though it is one that you have to hang. A large, well-stocked first aid kit. What I thought was a cookie or pretzel tin proved to be a tin of emergency candles. I also got a supply of matches and a single grill lighter. There was also a small pamphlet on what to do in an emergency. Some things were general, but some were specific to the Estate itself.
What stood out at first was that everything was emblazoned with the Haines Estate logo. A little excessive but then I saw that, just like in the box that Sylvia Crocker had brought earlier, each logo was slightly different. I finally clued into the fact that the different logos must correspond to the business(es) run by the various family member groups. I left off trying to figure out that mystery knowing that eventually I’d have the solution. It definitely spoke volumes that each family group seemed to want to claim the Estate but also wanted to differentiate from each other. That in addition to what Mr. Haines had said made me a little leery of possible Estate politics. I’ll definitely watch where I put my feet … and my mouth.
The second thing that struck me about what was in the box was that it indicated a certainty that I would need items like lanterns, candles, matches, first aid kit, and water storage. I put on my to do list to go through my “hurricane supply box” and make sure I had storm supplies laid in.
It was time to get to work. I started by cleaning out and then filling the water jug and setting it in the pantry after pouring in a capful of unscented bleach to keep it sanitized. I used a little more bleach to coat the inside of the screw top lid before securing it onto the jug. I also dug out my electric kettle and got some water going. I wanted a cup of tea and I wanted it badly. First because I needed a little zing to keep me going and secondly, because there was definitely a bit of nip in the air as the day wore on. I reopened the window in the bathroom and bedroom and then the one in the kitchen. The two in the “living room” I left closed because instead I propped the door open to let air in through the screened door.
I worked on emptying my personal items … photo albums, pictures, knick knacks, and the like but also my clothes and personal hygiene items. I found places for the paper products and feminine hygiene products I had but added a note to myself to pick up some more since the grocery store was going to be a little further away than I had taken into consideration. I’d already made the bed up but I found the extra linens and towels and stored them in the under the bed storage boxes and put the decorative pillows on the bed with the more practical sleeping pillows. I put the quilt stand my father had made for my grandmother, that I inherited at her passing, in an unused corner and draped the quilt my mother had made for me onto the spindles. I took one of her afghans and draped it over the Queen Anne chair. The Cottage was starting to look and feel homier but I still had a big task to go.
I took a break and ate the boxed-meal that Mr. Crocker’s wife had brought earlier in the day. The sandwich was a little stale and the salad a little wilted but I’d eaten similar from deli leftovers at the grocery. It wasn’t meant to be haute cuisine, just fill the hollow spaces. It served its purpose and I wasn’t going to complain.
After eating I started on the pantry and kitchen. It wasn’t that I had a lot of stuff but what there was needed to be organized and put away properly. Pots and pans. Dishes and glasses. Condiments. Bulk food items. Cleaning supplies.
The sun was going down and my energy was waning but another cup of tea helped with part of that. So did sitting outside on the deck in a camp chair to clear away the cob webs. Notepad in hand I added a few more things to my list … a large bottle of good furniture oil for a start. The Cottage was definitely clean when I moved in and only needed a little dusting but I noted the wood that covered nearly every surface needed cleaning and polishing. A good lemon oil would take care of that and I started another page of chores that would need to be done on a regular basis … like a monthly oiling of the paneling and cabinetry.
I had measured the windows as I went and made sure to organize what I was going to purchase so that I could accomplish it as quickly as possible since a three-hour round trip commute definitely took a chunk of the day. I needed wood glue and a screw to help piece the coat rack back together where something had happened to it in transit. I already had a small, rubber-backed rug to stand the coat rack on so that I could use it to hang a jacket, umbrella, and sit the rubber boots near it at the door.
The stove needs drip pans and the rugs that I have definitely won’t work in the pink and avocado bathroom. Mismatch doesn’t really bother me too much, especially when beggars can’t be choosers; but the clash of pink/avocado with nearly fluorescent purple would just be too much for anyone unless they were blind and I’m not sure even then. If I am going to get new rugs I might as well get a new shower curtain as well … even if it is just an opaque one. As soon as the bugs started coming out, and proving to be every bit as vicious as their tropical cousins, I added citronella and other bug sprays to my list.
I was fussing at the door – and nearly falling on my rear end when it suddenly popped open – when the woman named Maddie showed up again. She came up the stairs sans invitation and said, “That’s definitely a work order item. Better tell Murphy when he comes by.”
“And Murphy is who?”
“He’ll be the big UCLA boy that is going to hang your blinds.”
“Hmm.” I looked at her and waited her out.
Contrary to being insulted or put off she laughed. “To answer your unspoken question, I decided to get a jump on anyone else and come to see what you’ve made of the place. Can I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?”
It was then I noticed she was carrying a small handled bag. I looked at her and it and decided I needed to put the desire to start a new life into action and not be as churlish as I was feeling.
“Sure. Why not. Do I need to heat it up?”
“Nope. Two cups and a thermos.”
She came in and then wrangled the grand tour out of me. She got it … except for the pantry which she apparently didn’t realize what it was.
“Wow. This is actually a lot nicer than Cyndi made out.”
“Cyndi?”
“One of the girls that was here with me this morning before you went off with Mr. Haines. The other girl is Neela. I don’t know if they’ll wander by again or not but you’ll eventually meet them.” When I looked the question at her she said, “Mrs. Baxter read everyone the riot act.”
“For … er … do I want to know what for? Or is it one those upper staff, not upper staff things that I’ve heard hinted at?”
“Had to be Sylvia Crocker. She’s the only one I know that will take that topic on head first like that … doesn’t want anything to do with the whole class structure that sometimes happens here on the Estate.”
“Well I don’t want to be drawn in either. I’m here to do my job and that’s it.”
“Pretty long-term commitment from what I hear. A five-year contract? Not many of the upper staff have contracts like that, and none of the seasonal staff do.”
I shrugged. “It is what I was offered and what I accepted.”
“And?”
“And what?”
She stopped and looked at me, grinned then shrugged. “And nothing I guess. It just seems a long commitment in that type of job for someone our age.”
“I’m almost twenty-five. I’m voting for security and a paycheck over footloose and fancy free and broke.”
“Divorce really soured you.” I wanted to shut down or get angry and she must have sensed it. “Sorry, that was pretty rude. Maybe one day you’ll tell me.”
I wanted to say and pigs will fly but didn’t. Instead I put her off with, “It is a sorry tale like most divorces are. It is my responsibility to move forward. And since you know I’m Mr. Haines housekeeper can I ask what you do on the Estate?”
“I work in the reservation office … rafting trips, backcountry hiking and camping, cabin rentals … and when I’m not doing that I’m also working in fulfillment. You know, filling online orders for some of the Estate products, especially the winery.”
“Sounds interesting.”
She was off and running for nearly fifteen minutes before we heard a beep-beep from down below. Maddie jumped up and ran to call down a hello. I mentally balked when I saw two girls and two men start to get out of a car. Rather than encourage them to come up I walked down.
“I take it that not everyone respects the rules that Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines outlined.”
The way I said it temporarily slowed their plan but I looked back at Maddie and hiked an eyebrow. “You might as well tell the two boys that in a previous life I was a high school teacher. They aren’t going to be able to fool me with whatever it is that they are planning.”
Turning back around I watched them try and hide an irritated look on their faces which only confirmed their suspected identities. I asked, “Which of the other families do you belong to? I’m sure Mr. Haines is going to ask, if he doesn’t already have a security camera around here somewhere.”
They were about to feed me a line of baloney when Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker road out of the trees startling the group. Mr. Haines simply stared at the two men, and it didn’t look like he was going to give them a blessing … at least not a polite one. Mr. Crocker was less silent. “Maddie, I’m rather surprised to see you here. My understanding was that work was running behind in your department.”
Maddie swallowed and tried to put a good face on. “We’re all just wanting to welcome the newest staff member.”
I told her, “Thank you for the welcome if sincerely meant.”
I saw a flash of something in her eyes and what surprised me was that it didn’t look like anger so much as a bit of respect. What that meant I was not prepared to make any assumptions about.
She said, “New blood always makes things interesting.”
“Interesting isn’t all it is cracked up to be. All I’m looking for is consistency and constancy.”
“Maybe I can talk you out of that.”
I lost what smile I had and said, “No. You can’t.”
She took a step back in surprise and then shrugged as her smile returned. It took a moment but they left, kicking up just enough dust to irritate the horses Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines were riding. As they dismounted Mr. Haines’ horse jerked away from him and pranced in my direction.
“Excuse me Mr. Horse, do I look like the type that will suffer a prima donna?”
The horse snorted then nosed my shirt. “Oh for … likely you are a bottomless pit. A spoiled bottomless pit. Mr. Haines may your horse have a carrot?”
Both Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines had jumped forward to grab the horse but then stopped when they saw I wasn’t fearful. Mr. Haines snorted … probably where his horse learned it since he does it so often … and said, “I doubt we’ll get anything accomplished until he does.”
Mr. Crocker’s horse was much shyer and I didn’t force him; never a good idea with a horse anyway. That over with both animals finally consented to be tied off and the two men climbed the stairs to the deck. They asked if they could come in but when I raised the issue of the rules it was Mr. Crocker who said, “I applaud you Ms. Field but we aren’t quite as rigid about the rules with the upper staff. However, if you aren’t comfortable …?”
“I met with you both before and trust you; however, I’m more than new to the Estate and I don’t want to make a reputation for myself before my first day of work.”
A female voice said, “Then it is a good thing that I arrived with I did.”
Mr. Crocker welcomed his wife. “Sylvia! I thought you had the kids tonight.”
“Would have but Stacey isn’t feeling all that hot. She got her MMR so she could take summer classes and she’s very sore.”
“Ice pack,” I said remembering my own battles with the MMR vaccine.
“That’s what we’re doing now. It’s helped some but she’s probably going to go to bed early so Georgie called the rest of the gang to reschedule. Oh … and I suppose I should have said that Stacy and George Jr. are our kids.”
I smiled and nodded.
Mr. Crocker wasn’t finished with the topic. “Why on earth she had to get another one of those things when she is only taking classes online …” He looked at me and said, “We aren’t anti-vax but I am not fond of being forced into much of anything. If she was going to be on campus it would make sense but for online classes?!”
Sylvia cautioned, “George.”
He took a deep breath and then looked at me. “My apologies Ms. Field. You must think I’m demented.”
“Actually, I think you sound a whole lot like my father and brother. Even my … my ex-husband had a similar opinion. No one likes being forced into anything.”
Mr. Haines asked, “And you?”
It was either a test or a trap depending on how you looked at it. All I could do was be honest. “Vaccinations have prevented untold deaths because we simply cannot measure how many people haven’t been infected. Vaccinations serve a purpose … look at how Small Pox has been all but wiped out except for the laboratory experiments. It is all about ‘herd immunity.’ On the other hand nothing is without risk and these days people don’t want to risk anything they don’t see as providing a corresponding benefit. They see how statistically rare many of the vaccinated illnesses are, they no longer see the benefit of vaccines outweighing the risks because they benefit too much from herd immunity … or from modern medicine being able to treat infections before they turn deadly. But the reality is this country is losing its herd immunity … from foreign tourism to and from countries that still have high, active infection rates and low vaccination rates, from immigrants of both the legal and illegal variety that are bringing back the third world infections into our first world economy, because people don’t understand or they fear the risks of vaccinations to their children, some real, some not thoroughly proven but still possible.”
“So, you are pro-vax.”
“I’m a use-some-common-sense-vax. Pregnant women exposed to measles can wind up with a deaf baby. Encephalitis has killed college students in Florida. On the other hand, just vaxing a child doesn’t necessarily grant complete immunity. And no vaccine lasts forever; just like the tetanus shot they last at most for 10 years so people need to get boosters every so often. My personal issue is forcing parents to give their babies so many shots at a time so quickly together. Also, by taking the choice away … but if you have a choice then you have to be responsible for your choice. If your kid becomes infected and then infects other kids creating a financial burden or even permanent harm to another child, then there should be consequences for that. If you want to send your child to a public school, or have them play public sports like in Little League, then you need to accept that vaccinations are going to be required. You chose not to participate in those types of public activities, or to homeschool, then you should be free to not vax so long as you accept the consequences if you create a health crisis for someone else. I don’t have all the answers so I’m not certain how to implement what’s needed and prevent over use … I just know historically what happened before there were vaccinations. But what I choose for myself doesn’t give me a right to force it on someone else.” I saw a look pass between Mr. Haines and the Crockers and I said, “I apologize if that sounds like a cop-out.”
Mr. Haines snorted and I almost told him he sounded like his horse, or vice versa. He must have seen something on my face however because this time he sighed. “Ms. Field, to put it bluntly …”
In interrupted his attempted to come up with an answer by asking, “Did I pass the test?”
Sylvia Crocker started laughing and then laughed harder at the look on the two men’s faces. I looked at her and she finally answered, “Yes my Dear, you did. And because you did, I really hope you’ll hear us out with an open mind.”
I don’t know what I expected but it certainly wasn’t what was discussed.
Chapter 10
The walk back did help me to clear my head and catch my second wind. And I needed it; I had a lot to do and a lot to think about.
No one was around when I got back to the Cottage but there was a note on the door. “Bob” would be by the next day to re-install the phone and to put some type of surge protector on the Cottage as well. I was also to expect the shades to arrive … and be installed, the propane tank to be filled, and a load of wood to be delivered because apparently there was a late cold snap expected. Jolly. There was also another box.
I scooted the box inside the Cottage after I managed to finally convince the lock to turn and the door to open. Before I did anything else I went over to my list and added graphite and liquid wrench as I had done the stupid and given those two items away when I had been cleaning out my brother’s tools before I moved them to the last storage unit.
The box was too unwieldy for me to lift so I opened it while it was still on the floor. Inside I found a black, waterproof jacket with a removable lining, three pair of black tights – two heavy and one lighter weight, a pair of black rubber boots in my size (that explains that question), a hard plastic one-gallon jug I eventually learned was for water storage, and a smaller box that was the reason for the weight of the bigger box. Inside it was a large black flashlight with three large lantern batteries, a mag flashlight with two extra sets of batteries, a solar … well I believe it is a lamp though it is one that you have to hang. A large, well-stocked first aid kit. What I thought was a cookie or pretzel tin proved to be a tin of emergency candles. I also got a supply of matches and a single grill lighter. There was also a small pamphlet on what to do in an emergency. Some things were general, but some were specific to the Estate itself.
What stood out at first was that everything was emblazoned with the Haines Estate logo. A little excessive but then I saw that, just like in the box that Sylvia Crocker had brought earlier, each logo was slightly different. I finally clued into the fact that the different logos must correspond to the business(es) run by the various family member groups. I left off trying to figure out that mystery knowing that eventually I’d have the solution. It definitely spoke volumes that each family group seemed to want to claim the Estate but also wanted to differentiate from each other. That in addition to what Mr. Haines had said made me a little leery of possible Estate politics. I’ll definitely watch where I put my feet … and my mouth.
The second thing that struck me about what was in the box was that it indicated a certainty that I would need items like lanterns, candles, matches, first aid kit, and water storage. I put on my to do list to go through my “hurricane supply box” and make sure I had storm supplies laid in.
It was time to get to work. I started by cleaning out and then filling the water jug and setting it in the pantry after pouring in a capful of unscented bleach to keep it sanitized. I used a little more bleach to coat the inside of the screw top lid before securing it onto the jug. I also dug out my electric kettle and got some water going. I wanted a cup of tea and I wanted it badly. First because I needed a little zing to keep me going and secondly, because there was definitely a bit of nip in the air as the day wore on. I reopened the window in the bathroom and bedroom and then the one in the kitchen. The two in the “living room” I left closed because instead I propped the door open to let air in through the screened door.
I worked on emptying my personal items … photo albums, pictures, knick knacks, and the like but also my clothes and personal hygiene items. I found places for the paper products and feminine hygiene products I had but added a note to myself to pick up some more since the grocery store was going to be a little further away than I had taken into consideration. I’d already made the bed up but I found the extra linens and towels and stored them in the under the bed storage boxes and put the decorative pillows on the bed with the more practical sleeping pillows. I put the quilt stand my father had made for my grandmother, that I inherited at her passing, in an unused corner and draped the quilt my mother had made for me onto the spindles. I took one of her afghans and draped it over the Queen Anne chair. The Cottage was starting to look and feel homier but I still had a big task to go.
I took a break and ate the boxed-meal that Mr. Crocker’s wife had brought earlier in the day. The sandwich was a little stale and the salad a little wilted but I’d eaten similar from deli leftovers at the grocery. It wasn’t meant to be haute cuisine, just fill the hollow spaces. It served its purpose and I wasn’t going to complain.
After eating I started on the pantry and kitchen. It wasn’t that I had a lot of stuff but what there was needed to be organized and put away properly. Pots and pans. Dishes and glasses. Condiments. Bulk food items. Cleaning supplies.
The sun was going down and my energy was waning but another cup of tea helped with part of that. So did sitting outside on the deck in a camp chair to clear away the cob webs. Notepad in hand I added a few more things to my list … a large bottle of good furniture oil for a start. The Cottage was definitely clean when I moved in and only needed a little dusting but I noted the wood that covered nearly every surface needed cleaning and polishing. A good lemon oil would take care of that and I started another page of chores that would need to be done on a regular basis … like a monthly oiling of the paneling and cabinetry.
I had measured the windows as I went and made sure to organize what I was going to purchase so that I could accomplish it as quickly as possible since a three-hour round trip commute definitely took a chunk of the day. I needed wood glue and a screw to help piece the coat rack back together where something had happened to it in transit. I already had a small, rubber-backed rug to stand the coat rack on so that I could use it to hang a jacket, umbrella, and sit the rubber boots near it at the door.
The stove needs drip pans and the rugs that I have definitely won’t work in the pink and avocado bathroom. Mismatch doesn’t really bother me too much, especially when beggars can’t be choosers; but the clash of pink/avocado with nearly fluorescent purple would just be too much for anyone unless they were blind and I’m not sure even then. If I am going to get new rugs I might as well get a new shower curtain as well … even if it is just an opaque one. As soon as the bugs started coming out, and proving to be every bit as vicious as their tropical cousins, I added citronella and other bug sprays to my list.
I was fussing at the door – and nearly falling on my rear end when it suddenly popped open – when the woman named Maddie showed up again. She came up the stairs sans invitation and said, “That’s definitely a work order item. Better tell Murphy when he comes by.”
“And Murphy is who?”
“He’ll be the big UCLA boy that is going to hang your blinds.”
“Hmm.” I looked at her and waited her out.
Contrary to being insulted or put off she laughed. “To answer your unspoken question, I decided to get a jump on anyone else and come to see what you’ve made of the place. Can I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?”
It was then I noticed she was carrying a small handled bag. I looked at her and it and decided I needed to put the desire to start a new life into action and not be as churlish as I was feeling.
“Sure. Why not. Do I need to heat it up?”
“Nope. Two cups and a thermos.”
She came in and then wrangled the grand tour out of me. She got it … except for the pantry which she apparently didn’t realize what it was.
“Wow. This is actually a lot nicer than Cyndi made out.”
“Cyndi?”
“One of the girls that was here with me this morning before you went off with Mr. Haines. The other girl is Neela. I don’t know if they’ll wander by again or not but you’ll eventually meet them.” When I looked the question at her she said, “Mrs. Baxter read everyone the riot act.”
“For … er … do I want to know what for? Or is it one those upper staff, not upper staff things that I’ve heard hinted at?”
“Had to be Sylvia Crocker. She’s the only one I know that will take that topic on head first like that … doesn’t want anything to do with the whole class structure that sometimes happens here on the Estate.”
“Well I don’t want to be drawn in either. I’m here to do my job and that’s it.”
“Pretty long-term commitment from what I hear. A five-year contract? Not many of the upper staff have contracts like that, and none of the seasonal staff do.”
I shrugged. “It is what I was offered and what I accepted.”
“And?”
“And what?”
She stopped and looked at me, grinned then shrugged. “And nothing I guess. It just seems a long commitment in that type of job for someone our age.”
“I’m almost twenty-five. I’m voting for security and a paycheck over footloose and fancy free and broke.”
“Divorce really soured you.” I wanted to shut down or get angry and she must have sensed it. “Sorry, that was pretty rude. Maybe one day you’ll tell me.”
I wanted to say and pigs will fly but didn’t. Instead I put her off with, “It is a sorry tale like most divorces are. It is my responsibility to move forward. And since you know I’m Mr. Haines housekeeper can I ask what you do on the Estate?”
“I work in the reservation office … rafting trips, backcountry hiking and camping, cabin rentals … and when I’m not doing that I’m also working in fulfillment. You know, filling online orders for some of the Estate products, especially the winery.”
“Sounds interesting.”
She was off and running for nearly fifteen minutes before we heard a beep-beep from down below. Maddie jumped up and ran to call down a hello. I mentally balked when I saw two girls and two men start to get out of a car. Rather than encourage them to come up I walked down.
“I take it that not everyone respects the rules that Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines outlined.”
The way I said it temporarily slowed their plan but I looked back at Maddie and hiked an eyebrow. “You might as well tell the two boys that in a previous life I was a high school teacher. They aren’t going to be able to fool me with whatever it is that they are planning.”
Turning back around I watched them try and hide an irritated look on their faces which only confirmed their suspected identities. I asked, “Which of the other families do you belong to? I’m sure Mr. Haines is going to ask, if he doesn’t already have a security camera around here somewhere.”
They were about to feed me a line of baloney when Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker road out of the trees startling the group. Mr. Haines simply stared at the two men, and it didn’t look like he was going to give them a blessing … at least not a polite one. Mr. Crocker was less silent. “Maddie, I’m rather surprised to see you here. My understanding was that work was running behind in your department.”
Maddie swallowed and tried to put a good face on. “We’re all just wanting to welcome the newest staff member.”
I told her, “Thank you for the welcome if sincerely meant.”
I saw a flash of something in her eyes and what surprised me was that it didn’t look like anger so much as a bit of respect. What that meant I was not prepared to make any assumptions about.
She said, “New blood always makes things interesting.”
“Interesting isn’t all it is cracked up to be. All I’m looking for is consistency and constancy.”
“Maybe I can talk you out of that.”
I lost what smile I had and said, “No. You can’t.”
She took a step back in surprise and then shrugged as her smile returned. It took a moment but they left, kicking up just enough dust to irritate the horses Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines were riding. As they dismounted Mr. Haines’ horse jerked away from him and pranced in my direction.
“Excuse me Mr. Horse, do I look like the type that will suffer a prima donna?”
The horse snorted then nosed my shirt. “Oh for … likely you are a bottomless pit. A spoiled bottomless pit. Mr. Haines may your horse have a carrot?”
Both Mr. Crocker and Mr. Haines had jumped forward to grab the horse but then stopped when they saw I wasn’t fearful. Mr. Haines snorted … probably where his horse learned it since he does it so often … and said, “I doubt we’ll get anything accomplished until he does.”
Mr. Crocker’s horse was much shyer and I didn’t force him; never a good idea with a horse anyway. That over with both animals finally consented to be tied off and the two men climbed the stairs to the deck. They asked if they could come in but when I raised the issue of the rules it was Mr. Crocker who said, “I applaud you Ms. Field but we aren’t quite as rigid about the rules with the upper staff. However, if you aren’t comfortable …?”
“I met with you both before and trust you; however, I’m more than new to the Estate and I don’t want to make a reputation for myself before my first day of work.”
A female voice said, “Then it is a good thing that I arrived with I did.”
Mr. Crocker welcomed his wife. “Sylvia! I thought you had the kids tonight.”
“Would have but Stacey isn’t feeling all that hot. She got her MMR so she could take summer classes and she’s very sore.”
“Ice pack,” I said remembering my own battles with the MMR vaccine.
“That’s what we’re doing now. It’s helped some but she’s probably going to go to bed early so Georgie called the rest of the gang to reschedule. Oh … and I suppose I should have said that Stacy and George Jr. are our kids.”
I smiled and nodded.
Mr. Crocker wasn’t finished with the topic. “Why on earth she had to get another one of those things when she is only taking classes online …” He looked at me and said, “We aren’t anti-vax but I am not fond of being forced into much of anything. If she was going to be on campus it would make sense but for online classes?!”
Sylvia cautioned, “George.”
He took a deep breath and then looked at me. “My apologies Ms. Field. You must think I’m demented.”
“Actually, I think you sound a whole lot like my father and brother. Even my … my ex-husband had a similar opinion. No one likes being forced into anything.”
Mr. Haines asked, “And you?”
It was either a test or a trap depending on how you looked at it. All I could do was be honest. “Vaccinations have prevented untold deaths because we simply cannot measure how many people haven’t been infected. Vaccinations serve a purpose … look at how Small Pox has been all but wiped out except for the laboratory experiments. It is all about ‘herd immunity.’ On the other hand nothing is without risk and these days people don’t want to risk anything they don’t see as providing a corresponding benefit. They see how statistically rare many of the vaccinated illnesses are, they no longer see the benefit of vaccines outweighing the risks because they benefit too much from herd immunity … or from modern medicine being able to treat infections before they turn deadly. But the reality is this country is losing its herd immunity … from foreign tourism to and from countries that still have high, active infection rates and low vaccination rates, from immigrants of both the legal and illegal variety that are bringing back the third world infections into our first world economy, because people don’t understand or they fear the risks of vaccinations to their children, some real, some not thoroughly proven but still possible.”
“So, you are pro-vax.”
“I’m a use-some-common-sense-vax. Pregnant women exposed to measles can wind up with a deaf baby. Encephalitis has killed college students in Florida. On the other hand, just vaxing a child doesn’t necessarily grant complete immunity. And no vaccine lasts forever; just like the tetanus shot they last at most for 10 years so people need to get boosters every so often. My personal issue is forcing parents to give their babies so many shots at a time so quickly together. Also, by taking the choice away … but if you have a choice then you have to be responsible for your choice. If your kid becomes infected and then infects other kids creating a financial burden or even permanent harm to another child, then there should be consequences for that. If you want to send your child to a public school, or have them play public sports like in Little League, then you need to accept that vaccinations are going to be required. You chose not to participate in those types of public activities, or to homeschool, then you should be free to not vax so long as you accept the consequences if you create a health crisis for someone else. I don’t have all the answers so I’m not certain how to implement what’s needed and prevent over use … I just know historically what happened before there were vaccinations. But what I choose for myself doesn’t give me a right to force it on someone else.” I saw a look pass between Mr. Haines and the Crockers and I said, “I apologize if that sounds like a cop-out.”
Mr. Haines snorted and I almost told him he sounded like his horse, or vice versa. He must have seen something on my face however because this time he sighed. “Ms. Field, to put it bluntly …”
In interrupted his attempted to come up with an answer by asking, “Did I pass the test?”
Sylvia Crocker started laughing and then laughed harder at the look on the two men’s faces. I looked at her and she finally answered, “Yes my Dear, you did. And because you did, I really hope you’ll hear us out with an open mind.”
I don’t know what I expected but it certainly wasn’t what was discussed.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you for the great chapters and the cliff lol. Again I had to read between doing things and a call from our daughter in AZ. If they didn't have one trouble or another they wouldn't know how to act.
Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Survivalists. That’s what some on the Haines Estate are, emphasis on “some” of them. Not the crazy, building underground bunkers for nuclear winter, storing 10 years of food and 20 years of ammo kind of survivalists that are portrayed in the made-for-tv movies, weird reality shows, and silly memes. Not the kind, as it was explained, that want any kind of notoriety or publicity at all; even within the Estate itself. They are more the “we like our life and want to keep our life” kind of survivalists. While potential war and political upheaval are part of their plan, it is a relatively minor consideration, except for local and state level government issues. For the Haines family and their connections involved in the plans it is more about economic upheaval.
“As a family we’ve survived many different eras and the associated trials and remained pretty much intact … barring some of the natural, genetic idiocy that occasionally crops up,” Mr. Haines said as he continued to try and explain. “In my great grandfather’s day the family was still pretty well off as far as liquidity; he’s the one that incorporated the partnership to protect what we had and keep it out of the hands of the IRS, it also gave us the ability to get more creative financially in other areas. It’s a good thing he did too, because although Grandfather and his sister did the best they could, natural forces have slowly been changing the family’s fortunes. Some within the family still act affluent, some actually are affluent, and some of us just want to retain the resources necessary to continue living the way we want to whatever that level is.”
Feeling slighting confused I asked, “Okay, but how is that … I mean how is any of that … even my business?”
With a slightly hesitant tone he answered, “We’ve been getting progressively more selective on who we employ … at least some of the family has.”
Just as hesitant and worried about stepping over my bounds I said, “I … um … I heard you took a year to fill my position.”
“That’s certainly a case in point. But as I was explaining earlier, I needed someone with a unique set of skills. The house … frankly it is getting away from me right when I need my full focus for the Estate. I need someone with computer skills to help with other things with regard to managing the house and the surrounding property. And then there is Carra. However, the rest of it … the focus on our version of survivalism … that is a separate issue. I assure you Ms. Field I did not hire you with any ulterior motives.”
“Then why tell me? Wouldn’t something like that be better kept private?”
“Yes … except, under the circumstances it would be impossible to keep it private from you. I hadn’t meant to broach the subject so soon. Telling you about Carra was enough for now.”
“But?”
I saw Mr. Haines trying to master some irritation before answering. “The Board meeting. The Hen Club isn’t happy I didn’t consult with them before offering you the position. They can’t really say anything from a business standpoint since I’m the managing partner of the Estates and unless they want me to start pushing my authority around on their sectors of the partnership; nor are they able to use the threat of ousting me. However, as family they can certainly irritate the hell out of me … pardon my language. It took me a year to find you Ms. Field, I don’t want to have to start a search all over again to find a replacement just because they might take it into their heads to run you off.”
“I’m still not seeing the connection.”
It was Sylvia that said, “The … er …”
“Aunts?”
“Yes, the Aunts may be willing to admit that many of the things that take place on the Estate are for the benefit of the economic survival of the family. It is just what makes sense. However, Clint has always taken it a bit further, been more serious, more invested in … let’s call it the process of surviving, as was his grandfather before him. While the various goals aren’t diametrically opposed by any stretch, It does occasionally create some friction between him and whatever the Aunts are in the midst of.”
Mr. Crocker picked up the tale. “For instance, the alternative energy now installed here on the Estate was accomplished only because Haines dragged the family along kicking and screaming and not wanting to invest a dime of their own resources into it. Now they all act like it was their idea to begin with. They’re completely on board and even use it to make their businesses look better … green this and environmentally friendly that as it were. The hydroponics gardens are another example of this, though that time he had one or two of the member families on board from the get go because they needed a new business as their old one failed and to do it they needed an influx of cash from the Estate. The water treatment facility, the organic gardens, genetic diversity in the Estate’s animals instead of constant importation of new animals, all of the sustainability efforts … they started with Mr. Haines Sr. and his father before him, but Clint has very much been in charge of keeping new efforts flowing … and realistic.”
Mr. Haines picked the narrative back up. “Ms. Field, in short it was either tell you or risk having it thrown in your face for shock value and I really can’t afford to spend another year looking for someone that might not be packaged with your unique skill set.”
“Not that I’m looking to lose my job but in all honesty I have to say I’m not that unique.”
“You are wrong Ms. Field. And even if you could prove you aren’t I’m tired of looking and want to move along to the next phase which is actually completing a project and not just planning to do something with only patchwork results. My house needs work. The inventory needs to be done. I’m tired of eating out of cans and boxes or being dependent on the ‘family nights’ the Hen Club insists on. I need someone that can interact with my niece in some way other than as a prison warden. If I have to give some kind of concession to keep you in this position then I will.”
“Mr. Haines, please … please don’t assume that I have so few … so little …” In a little bit of concern I asked, “What kind of person do you think I am that I could accept your job offer, completely leave my old life behind, and then for no discernable reason turn on you and run away?”
I surprised him, and the Crockers, and after looking at me he wiped his face and said, “God you’re young … but maybe that won’t turn out to be a bad thing. Just keep the idealism in perspective. Fine, we’ll both be on probation as it were. What I’m asking is that you not …”
Guessing at what he was about to say I forestalled him by reminding him, “Mr. Haines I am already under a confidentiality clause. Your business is your business. What happens on the Haines Estate stays on the Haines Estate, so to speak. I’m not looking to get involved in some … some … vendetta others may want to wage against you. And after the little demonstration that you rode in on I am more than happy to keep to myself.”
Sylvia asked, “Oh dear, what did I miss?”
Mr. Haines answered, “Gary and Hirsch proving that while they might be thirty years old, they still act like they are back running with their frat brothers with no responsibilities to the family to take care of.”
Sylvia looked at me with concern and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Let’s just say If this was an example of what polishing their mirror does for their intellect and studliness, they’re time would be better off polishing their shoes.”
Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker both had just taken a sip of their tea and it went down the wrong way. It took Sylvia quite a while to finish laughing at their reactions. “Oh Shanna, you are a very welcome addition.”
“Actually I apologize for my mouth. It … it gets away from me. I shouldn’t let it.”
“My dear, I suspect in moderation, your mouth as you call it is exactly what does need to happen. And I must say,” she said trying to control another fit of giggles. “I’ve never heard it put quite as honestly as you just did. And don’t worry too much if you don’t completely understand or agree with some of the topics that may come up in your hearing. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, even us staff members.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you and Mr. Crocker aren’t just staff members?”
Giving me a smile to award me for my perceptiveness she answered, “I was Clint’s mother’s 2nd cousin. My husband has worked for the Estate since he was a teenager and his father and grandfather worked on the Estate before him. I’m afraid you’ll find it all a little incestuous; most small communities are to some extent or other.”
With some consternation Mr. Crocker said, “I really was surprised to find Maddie involved in tonight’s nonsense. That needs to be nipped in the bud. She’s a leader to the under staff and I had hopes that she was considering training for a supervisory position. That leaves a hole in my plans now. But she was right about new blood being welcome … and needed. Our community is indeed … er … incestuous and we’ll weaken ourselves if we don’t get a better handle on it.”
The three of them soon left and I was bringing in the chair I had been sitting in earlier when I heard something below. “Ms. Field, would you mind coming down for a moment?”
“Mr. Haines? Is anything the matter?”
“No. I … I wanted to … without Crocker and his wife around … er …” He was the type of man you could only wait out since they couldn’t be pushed to move faster. “Ms. Field, thank you for not running for the hills.”
“Mr. Haines …”
“No. Ms. Field, I’m all too aware of how some of this can sound based on how it is said. The housekeeper that took my mother’s place after she passed had a daughter that had … expectations where I was concerned. I wasn’t averse at the time. Then she found out … look, it just ended badly and she looked at me like an ogre with three heads and not half a brain between them by the time things were completely finished. I admit to making some mistakes. I also admit that I’ve let it … er … color my life since then and make me sensitive to the subject.”
“Mr. Haines, I’m not quite sure how I feel about the subject but if you are asking if I think you are crazy then the answer is no. My father was a career military man that served in some very remote locations. There were times that he and mom would go to the commissary even though we didn’t need anything and for a while the house would be packed. We were never supposed to allow any of the vehicles to get below half full. His opinion on certain current events didn’t always align with what our neighbors would say on the subject. And on one very memorable occasion I can remember my brother carrying me to the car, I wasn’t very old at the time, while my dad hurried Mom and the grandparents along and we all took a short vacation to a fish camp a buddy of his owned. He and my mother also had code words and phrases that didn’t necessarily mean what they sounded like. They gave my brother and I some get out of Dodge instructions that we were to follow to the letter if they ever told us to. Nothing ever came of it, but something could have and I know Dad was just doing what he thought best.” More quietly I told him, “The end of the world comes in all shapes and sizes and can be different for every person or family. And it can happen more than once. My world ended to some extent when first my parents died and then my brother. It ended again when Kirk left me only …” I stopped and shook my head. “It isn’t any of my business Mr. Haines. I may not understand all of your reasons, but I can respect them and respect the confidentiality that you are asking me to maintain on the subject. Is that enough?”
“More than enough Ms. Field. And now I’ve kept you from what you were doing before we arrived long enough. Tomorrow sounds like it is going to be a full day for you.”
“And if it is all right I want to try and go to Bryson City the day after that to take care of some things.”
“Of course. Just remember that it is going to get colder than it normally is this time of year. I don’t think there will be any sleet or ice on the road but you should be cautious either way.”
“Yes Sir.”
Chapter 11
Survivalists. That’s what some on the Haines Estate are, emphasis on “some” of them. Not the crazy, building underground bunkers for nuclear winter, storing 10 years of food and 20 years of ammo kind of survivalists that are portrayed in the made-for-tv movies, weird reality shows, and silly memes. Not the kind, as it was explained, that want any kind of notoriety or publicity at all; even within the Estate itself. They are more the “we like our life and want to keep our life” kind of survivalists. While potential war and political upheaval are part of their plan, it is a relatively minor consideration, except for local and state level government issues. For the Haines family and their connections involved in the plans it is more about economic upheaval.
“As a family we’ve survived many different eras and the associated trials and remained pretty much intact … barring some of the natural, genetic idiocy that occasionally crops up,” Mr. Haines said as he continued to try and explain. “In my great grandfather’s day the family was still pretty well off as far as liquidity; he’s the one that incorporated the partnership to protect what we had and keep it out of the hands of the IRS, it also gave us the ability to get more creative financially in other areas. It’s a good thing he did too, because although Grandfather and his sister did the best they could, natural forces have slowly been changing the family’s fortunes. Some within the family still act affluent, some actually are affluent, and some of us just want to retain the resources necessary to continue living the way we want to whatever that level is.”
Feeling slighting confused I asked, “Okay, but how is that … I mean how is any of that … even my business?”
With a slightly hesitant tone he answered, “We’ve been getting progressively more selective on who we employ … at least some of the family has.”
Just as hesitant and worried about stepping over my bounds I said, “I … um … I heard you took a year to fill my position.”
“That’s certainly a case in point. But as I was explaining earlier, I needed someone with a unique set of skills. The house … frankly it is getting away from me right when I need my full focus for the Estate. I need someone with computer skills to help with other things with regard to managing the house and the surrounding property. And then there is Carra. However, the rest of it … the focus on our version of survivalism … that is a separate issue. I assure you Ms. Field I did not hire you with any ulterior motives.”
“Then why tell me? Wouldn’t something like that be better kept private?”
“Yes … except, under the circumstances it would be impossible to keep it private from you. I hadn’t meant to broach the subject so soon. Telling you about Carra was enough for now.”
“But?”
I saw Mr. Haines trying to master some irritation before answering. “The Board meeting. The Hen Club isn’t happy I didn’t consult with them before offering you the position. They can’t really say anything from a business standpoint since I’m the managing partner of the Estates and unless they want me to start pushing my authority around on their sectors of the partnership; nor are they able to use the threat of ousting me. However, as family they can certainly irritate the hell out of me … pardon my language. It took me a year to find you Ms. Field, I don’t want to have to start a search all over again to find a replacement just because they might take it into their heads to run you off.”
“I’m still not seeing the connection.”
It was Sylvia that said, “The … er …”
“Aunts?”
“Yes, the Aunts may be willing to admit that many of the things that take place on the Estate are for the benefit of the economic survival of the family. It is just what makes sense. However, Clint has always taken it a bit further, been more serious, more invested in … let’s call it the process of surviving, as was his grandfather before him. While the various goals aren’t diametrically opposed by any stretch, It does occasionally create some friction between him and whatever the Aunts are in the midst of.”
Mr. Crocker picked up the tale. “For instance, the alternative energy now installed here on the Estate was accomplished only because Haines dragged the family along kicking and screaming and not wanting to invest a dime of their own resources into it. Now they all act like it was their idea to begin with. They’re completely on board and even use it to make their businesses look better … green this and environmentally friendly that as it were. The hydroponics gardens are another example of this, though that time he had one or two of the member families on board from the get go because they needed a new business as their old one failed and to do it they needed an influx of cash from the Estate. The water treatment facility, the organic gardens, genetic diversity in the Estate’s animals instead of constant importation of new animals, all of the sustainability efforts … they started with Mr. Haines Sr. and his father before him, but Clint has very much been in charge of keeping new efforts flowing … and realistic.”
Mr. Haines picked the narrative back up. “Ms. Field, in short it was either tell you or risk having it thrown in your face for shock value and I really can’t afford to spend another year looking for someone that might not be packaged with your unique skill set.”
“Not that I’m looking to lose my job but in all honesty I have to say I’m not that unique.”
“You are wrong Ms. Field. And even if you could prove you aren’t I’m tired of looking and want to move along to the next phase which is actually completing a project and not just planning to do something with only patchwork results. My house needs work. The inventory needs to be done. I’m tired of eating out of cans and boxes or being dependent on the ‘family nights’ the Hen Club insists on. I need someone that can interact with my niece in some way other than as a prison warden. If I have to give some kind of concession to keep you in this position then I will.”
“Mr. Haines, please … please don’t assume that I have so few … so little …” In a little bit of concern I asked, “What kind of person do you think I am that I could accept your job offer, completely leave my old life behind, and then for no discernable reason turn on you and run away?”
I surprised him, and the Crockers, and after looking at me he wiped his face and said, “God you’re young … but maybe that won’t turn out to be a bad thing. Just keep the idealism in perspective. Fine, we’ll both be on probation as it were. What I’m asking is that you not …”
Guessing at what he was about to say I forestalled him by reminding him, “Mr. Haines I am already under a confidentiality clause. Your business is your business. What happens on the Haines Estate stays on the Haines Estate, so to speak. I’m not looking to get involved in some … some … vendetta others may want to wage against you. And after the little demonstration that you rode in on I am more than happy to keep to myself.”
Sylvia asked, “Oh dear, what did I miss?”
Mr. Haines answered, “Gary and Hirsch proving that while they might be thirty years old, they still act like they are back running with their frat brothers with no responsibilities to the family to take care of.”
Sylvia looked at me with concern and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Let’s just say If this was an example of what polishing their mirror does for their intellect and studliness, they’re time would be better off polishing their shoes.”
Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker both had just taken a sip of their tea and it went down the wrong way. It took Sylvia quite a while to finish laughing at their reactions. “Oh Shanna, you are a very welcome addition.”
“Actually I apologize for my mouth. It … it gets away from me. I shouldn’t let it.”
“My dear, I suspect in moderation, your mouth as you call it is exactly what does need to happen. And I must say,” she said trying to control another fit of giggles. “I’ve never heard it put quite as honestly as you just did. And don’t worry too much if you don’t completely understand or agree with some of the topics that may come up in your hearing. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, even us staff members.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you and Mr. Crocker aren’t just staff members?”
Giving me a smile to award me for my perceptiveness she answered, “I was Clint’s mother’s 2nd cousin. My husband has worked for the Estate since he was a teenager and his father and grandfather worked on the Estate before him. I’m afraid you’ll find it all a little incestuous; most small communities are to some extent or other.”
With some consternation Mr. Crocker said, “I really was surprised to find Maddie involved in tonight’s nonsense. That needs to be nipped in the bud. She’s a leader to the under staff and I had hopes that she was considering training for a supervisory position. That leaves a hole in my plans now. But she was right about new blood being welcome … and needed. Our community is indeed … er … incestuous and we’ll weaken ourselves if we don’t get a better handle on it.”
The three of them soon left and I was bringing in the chair I had been sitting in earlier when I heard something below. “Ms. Field, would you mind coming down for a moment?”
“Mr. Haines? Is anything the matter?”
“No. I … I wanted to … without Crocker and his wife around … er …” He was the type of man you could only wait out since they couldn’t be pushed to move faster. “Ms. Field, thank you for not running for the hills.”
“Mr. Haines …”
“No. Ms. Field, I’m all too aware of how some of this can sound based on how it is said. The housekeeper that took my mother’s place after she passed had a daughter that had … expectations where I was concerned. I wasn’t averse at the time. Then she found out … look, it just ended badly and she looked at me like an ogre with three heads and not half a brain between them by the time things were completely finished. I admit to making some mistakes. I also admit that I’ve let it … er … color my life since then and make me sensitive to the subject.”
“Mr. Haines, I’m not quite sure how I feel about the subject but if you are asking if I think you are crazy then the answer is no. My father was a career military man that served in some very remote locations. There were times that he and mom would go to the commissary even though we didn’t need anything and for a while the house would be packed. We were never supposed to allow any of the vehicles to get below half full. His opinion on certain current events didn’t always align with what our neighbors would say on the subject. And on one very memorable occasion I can remember my brother carrying me to the car, I wasn’t very old at the time, while my dad hurried Mom and the grandparents along and we all took a short vacation to a fish camp a buddy of his owned. He and my mother also had code words and phrases that didn’t necessarily mean what they sounded like. They gave my brother and I some get out of Dodge instructions that we were to follow to the letter if they ever told us to. Nothing ever came of it, but something could have and I know Dad was just doing what he thought best.” More quietly I told him, “The end of the world comes in all shapes and sizes and can be different for every person or family. And it can happen more than once. My world ended to some extent when first my parents died and then my brother. It ended again when Kirk left me only …” I stopped and shook my head. “It isn’t any of my business Mr. Haines. I may not understand all of your reasons, but I can respect them and respect the confidentiality that you are asking me to maintain on the subject. Is that enough?”
“More than enough Ms. Field. And now I’ve kept you from what you were doing before we arrived long enough. Tomorrow sounds like it is going to be a full day for you.”
“And if it is all right I want to try and go to Bryson City the day after that to take care of some things.”
“Of course. Just remember that it is going to get colder than it normally is this time of year. I don’t think there will be any sleet or ice on the road but you should be cautious either way.”
“Yes Sir.”
Chapter 12
Chapter 12
“Are you sure you don’t mind Shanna?”
I looked at Sylvia and her daughter Stacy and said, “Of course not. Car problems suck. My brother used to take care of everything for me and … anyway, car problems are expensive, inconvenient … and they suck.”
Stacey, looking as I imagined her mother must have looked at eighteen, said, “And how. I can’t believe the car just took a dump like that. And right when I have to get those books so I can get the reading done for my summer course work. I really do appreciate this. I hate getting crammed in when the staff get a party going to town.”
“Stacey …” Sylvia Crocker said in a cautionary tone.
“Seriously Mom, I get tired of being treated like a beggar to their queens. And we both know it isn’t about my age. Let’s just get out of here before someone else asks to come along.”
“I can always tell them no,” I said as I put my car in gear.
Obviously startled she asked, “Wow. Would you?”
“If they act inappropriate or it is going to cause problems … yes I would. I had to learn to say ‘no’ and at one point I was a little too good at it, but sometimes there is a line you have to draw. But as you’ve said, let’s cut out and avoid it if we can. I really do need to get my shopping list knocked out so … um …”
Sylvia said, “Absolutely Shanna. I completely understand and have a list of my own if you don’t mind even more company.”
“I’m kinda on a tight budget so if you …”
“Honey, everyone is on a tight budget these days. If they aren’t today, they should be or they’re going to be forced onto a tight budget tomorrow. Even the Aunts count nickels and roll pennies; you have to to survive. And since you don’t seem to have a problem with it I’m going to introduce you to a couple of thrift stores and discount barns.”
The ride into town was long but not boring as we must have covered a wide range of topics including Stacy finding out I actually understood some of the Elementary Calculus she would need to take in the Autumn semester.
Once we were in town I definitely did not have a problem with the discount stores that Sylvia and her daughter introduced me to and it is where I got most of my non-food and cleaning items, even all of the curtain rods. I did have to make a stop at the local grocery chain called Ingles to pick up several blocks of Velveeta and jars of Miracle Whip dressing when the local Fred’s didn’t have it. When I explained why Sylvia could only laugh. “I’m sorry to laugh my Dear, it isn’t anything personal. The story about that pimento cheese is rather a family joke. If you can possibly replicate what Dot used to make for him, you could probably ask for anything you wanted.”
“Oh. Uh … that … that isn’t why …”
“Relax Honey, I was just joking … although not by much. Clint just has a couple of quirks to go along with his genius. His love of cheese is one of them.”
“He didn’t say anything about that. Maybe I should add making some queso blanco to the menu.”
“I have no idea what Kaso-blank-oh is but if it is cheese he’ll probably like it.”
I stopped myself from laughing at how she pronounced it, but it was close. “Hmmm. Queso Blanco is Spanish for ‘white cheese’ and it is a good cheese for frying or baking. The biggest thing though it is easy to make at home using powdered milk … not the Carnation brand kind but the real whole dried milk you can find in the Hispanic food area. That big can you were asking me about that I was using to hold the pantry door open until I could chase the squirrel out.”
Sylvia rolled her eyes and said, “Stacy, remind me to tell your father about that squirrel. I don’t see how it got in either.” She shook her head and I tried not to wonder if I was now going to be the focus of stupid pranks on top of rude curiosity from the few under staff that I’d met. “About Clint … he probably didn’t say anything about the cheese fetish he has because he’s grown a little sensitive to the endless picking that some of the family treat him to. It’s being instigated by Gary and Hirsch, and why their parents let them get away with it I don’t know. Although, truth be told, they’re both at least thirty and shouldn’t need their parents to sit on them to make them behave professionally. The problem is the Estate is a family run business and some people can’t keep the boundaries straight … yes it is family run and operated but it is also a business and others should have the expectation that everyone will behave professionally.”
“Is that a big problem?” I asked as we grabbed carts and looked at our lists one more time. Sylvia also grabbed the store flyer and make a couple of quick circles on it with her pen.
“When Mr. Haines Sr. was alive it wasn’t. And for a while after that as well. But when the things that Clint was starting to implement improved lives on the Estate and started making many of the businesses more profitable other people in the family started pushing to have more authority – and more financial gain – in what was going on. The problem is the way the Incorporation was written and how the structure is set up.”
“I’ve seen the flow chart,” I told her referring to some papers I was given to read. “Each of the various businesses are either LLCs or partnerships in their own right. Haines Estate ‘the business’ is a partnership that owns a controlling interest in each of the LLCs and other business partnerships in exchange for the initial cash inflow necessary to start those businesses. The land and structures of Haines Estate are held inside an irrevocable trust that the interest in is paid out 51/49 between the descendants of the two surviving children of Mr. Haines great grandfather. Fifty-one percent travels down to the descendants of the man you call Mr. Haines Sr., the current Mr. Haines’ grandfather; and, forty-nine percent is paid out through descendants of his grandfather’s sister … the eleven daughters that sit on the Board. But no matter how you come at it the current Mr. Haines has controlling majority in what goes on for the Estate.”
“Correct, and the Trust is administrated by the law firm Mr. Haines Sr. was once a Senior Partner of. There’s also a clause that any family member (direct or otherwise) that tries to legally challenge the structure will be cut out and cut off and that any protracted legal battle will result in the Estate being liquidated and given to the State to do with as they will. Clint has proven he is capable of doing just that because he and his grandfather before him hold the 100 acres the Big House sits on in a separate Trust. There was an incident with a woman three or four … no closer to five I guess at this point … years ago that some in the family tried to take advantage of. Needless to say it didn’t work and has affected the family dynamics as well as the business dynamic of the Estate ever since. Add to that, an issue arose with Carra last summer that didn’t help with the existing conflicts. Essentially lines were drawn, and sides chosen that shouldn’t be but are.”
Putting two and two together one of the things Sylvia was referring to could been the housekeeper’s daughter that had “expectations.” I kept my mouth shut and Sylvia didn’t offer any further information. It is enough for me to know that Estate politics and family politics are something I don’t want to involve myself in.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The day in Bryson City was productive but tiring. Sylvia and Stacy are nice but I’m out of practice at this friendship thing. It is so hard to not wonder how soon I should expect the knife in the back. Or, would they really be as friendly if they knew the circumstances of my divorce. Perhaps Mr. Crocker told them, then again maybe not since he hadn’t told Mr. Haines; I’m not sure I want to know either way.
I woke up crying again last night. I missed Kirk so badly that I made the mistake of re-reading the letter he left under my door. That burst the bubble once again. I wonder what he thought of the letter I sent him, if he shared it with anyone. I wonder what he thought when he realized I have deleted all of the accounts he used to be able to contact me through, gone through and deleted my account with the various teaching groups where several someones, at his lawyer’s instigation, left such damning reviews. And not just there but on my bookseller, ebay, and etsy accounts as well. I wonder what kind of idiot I must be to continue to wonder about such things since in the long run it really doesn’t change anything. I have got to stop it if I want to maintain some sanity.
I have two more days until I officially start my job as Mr. Haines’ housekeeper, though if I get one more unexpected visit from people “just wanting to welcome me to Haines Estate” I may just ask if I can start early. I doubt that they’d feel so free to poke and prod if I was at the Big House.
There is one funny thing; somehow or other the story of the “security camera” has gotten around. Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker riding out of the bushes so soon after I had mentioned it has made a lot of people think and a few of them nervous. Mr. Haines hasn’t said anything directly but as he drives around in his truck, a couple of those hunting cameras are easily visible on the dash or in the seat … like he is installing them in various places. I’ve gotten a few questions and I’ve developed standard answers: Of course it doesn’t bother me, why should it? No, I don’t know where they are installed. It isn’t any of my business. I don’t know, and then there is the confidentiality clause of course. There’s security cameras at the businesses and warehouses aren’t there?
To be honest I haven’t a clue if there are cameras but it if makes them leave me alone I’ll live with them if there are. I had another run in with Maddie. Maybe not a run in exactly but I had the feeling that she is trying to feel me out or trip me up. I think she is having a hard time believing that I really don’t want to socialize and “have some fun.” She said I’d regret it. I heard the same thing from Kirk who said I was a stick in the mud and never wanted to have fun. I did at one time but sometimes what other people view as “fun” leaves me feeling the exact opposite. She said you’re only young once. Kirk said that too.
The similarities between Maddie and Kirk are starting to freak me out. Am I imagining it? I don’t think so. They even look somewhat alike because of their coloring. Good grief, maybe I am nuts.
Stop it. Refocus and move forward and stop letting the past swallow you up whole. Kirk wasn’t the enemy, not really. And I wasn’t some innocent maiden wronged since I bear some of the responsibility for the failure. But I moved away to start a new life, not to have the blasted past recreate itself in the form of a woman that sounds too much like my ex-husband.
Chapter 12
“Are you sure you don’t mind Shanna?”
I looked at Sylvia and her daughter Stacy and said, “Of course not. Car problems suck. My brother used to take care of everything for me and … anyway, car problems are expensive, inconvenient … and they suck.”
Stacey, looking as I imagined her mother must have looked at eighteen, said, “And how. I can’t believe the car just took a dump like that. And right when I have to get those books so I can get the reading done for my summer course work. I really do appreciate this. I hate getting crammed in when the staff get a party going to town.”
“Stacey …” Sylvia Crocker said in a cautionary tone.
“Seriously Mom, I get tired of being treated like a beggar to their queens. And we both know it isn’t about my age. Let’s just get out of here before someone else asks to come along.”
“I can always tell them no,” I said as I put my car in gear.
Obviously startled she asked, “Wow. Would you?”
“If they act inappropriate or it is going to cause problems … yes I would. I had to learn to say ‘no’ and at one point I was a little too good at it, but sometimes there is a line you have to draw. But as you’ve said, let’s cut out and avoid it if we can. I really do need to get my shopping list knocked out so … um …”
Sylvia said, “Absolutely Shanna. I completely understand and have a list of my own if you don’t mind even more company.”
“I’m kinda on a tight budget so if you …”
“Honey, everyone is on a tight budget these days. If they aren’t today, they should be or they’re going to be forced onto a tight budget tomorrow. Even the Aunts count nickels and roll pennies; you have to to survive. And since you don’t seem to have a problem with it I’m going to introduce you to a couple of thrift stores and discount barns.”
The ride into town was long but not boring as we must have covered a wide range of topics including Stacy finding out I actually understood some of the Elementary Calculus she would need to take in the Autumn semester.
Once we were in town I definitely did not have a problem with the discount stores that Sylvia and her daughter introduced me to and it is where I got most of my non-food and cleaning items, even all of the curtain rods. I did have to make a stop at the local grocery chain called Ingles to pick up several blocks of Velveeta and jars of Miracle Whip dressing when the local Fred’s didn’t have it. When I explained why Sylvia could only laugh. “I’m sorry to laugh my Dear, it isn’t anything personal. The story about that pimento cheese is rather a family joke. If you can possibly replicate what Dot used to make for him, you could probably ask for anything you wanted.”
“Oh. Uh … that … that isn’t why …”
“Relax Honey, I was just joking … although not by much. Clint just has a couple of quirks to go along with his genius. His love of cheese is one of them.”
“He didn’t say anything about that. Maybe I should add making some queso blanco to the menu.”
“I have no idea what Kaso-blank-oh is but if it is cheese he’ll probably like it.”
I stopped myself from laughing at how she pronounced it, but it was close. “Hmmm. Queso Blanco is Spanish for ‘white cheese’ and it is a good cheese for frying or baking. The biggest thing though it is easy to make at home using powdered milk … not the Carnation brand kind but the real whole dried milk you can find in the Hispanic food area. That big can you were asking me about that I was using to hold the pantry door open until I could chase the squirrel out.”
Sylvia rolled her eyes and said, “Stacy, remind me to tell your father about that squirrel. I don’t see how it got in either.” She shook her head and I tried not to wonder if I was now going to be the focus of stupid pranks on top of rude curiosity from the few under staff that I’d met. “About Clint … he probably didn’t say anything about the cheese fetish he has because he’s grown a little sensitive to the endless picking that some of the family treat him to. It’s being instigated by Gary and Hirsch, and why their parents let them get away with it I don’t know. Although, truth be told, they’re both at least thirty and shouldn’t need their parents to sit on them to make them behave professionally. The problem is the Estate is a family run business and some people can’t keep the boundaries straight … yes it is family run and operated but it is also a business and others should have the expectation that everyone will behave professionally.”
“Is that a big problem?” I asked as we grabbed carts and looked at our lists one more time. Sylvia also grabbed the store flyer and make a couple of quick circles on it with her pen.
“When Mr. Haines Sr. was alive it wasn’t. And for a while after that as well. But when the things that Clint was starting to implement improved lives on the Estate and started making many of the businesses more profitable other people in the family started pushing to have more authority – and more financial gain – in what was going on. The problem is the way the Incorporation was written and how the structure is set up.”
“I’ve seen the flow chart,” I told her referring to some papers I was given to read. “Each of the various businesses are either LLCs or partnerships in their own right. Haines Estate ‘the business’ is a partnership that owns a controlling interest in each of the LLCs and other business partnerships in exchange for the initial cash inflow necessary to start those businesses. The land and structures of Haines Estate are held inside an irrevocable trust that the interest in is paid out 51/49 between the descendants of the two surviving children of Mr. Haines great grandfather. Fifty-one percent travels down to the descendants of the man you call Mr. Haines Sr., the current Mr. Haines’ grandfather; and, forty-nine percent is paid out through descendants of his grandfather’s sister … the eleven daughters that sit on the Board. But no matter how you come at it the current Mr. Haines has controlling majority in what goes on for the Estate.”
“Correct, and the Trust is administrated by the law firm Mr. Haines Sr. was once a Senior Partner of. There’s also a clause that any family member (direct or otherwise) that tries to legally challenge the structure will be cut out and cut off and that any protracted legal battle will result in the Estate being liquidated and given to the State to do with as they will. Clint has proven he is capable of doing just that because he and his grandfather before him hold the 100 acres the Big House sits on in a separate Trust. There was an incident with a woman three or four … no closer to five I guess at this point … years ago that some in the family tried to take advantage of. Needless to say it didn’t work and has affected the family dynamics as well as the business dynamic of the Estate ever since. Add to that, an issue arose with Carra last summer that didn’t help with the existing conflicts. Essentially lines were drawn, and sides chosen that shouldn’t be but are.”
Putting two and two together one of the things Sylvia was referring to could been the housekeeper’s daughter that had “expectations.” I kept my mouth shut and Sylvia didn’t offer any further information. It is enough for me to know that Estate politics and family politics are something I don’t want to involve myself in.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The day in Bryson City was productive but tiring. Sylvia and Stacy are nice but I’m out of practice at this friendship thing. It is so hard to not wonder how soon I should expect the knife in the back. Or, would they really be as friendly if they knew the circumstances of my divorce. Perhaps Mr. Crocker told them, then again maybe not since he hadn’t told Mr. Haines; I’m not sure I want to know either way.
I woke up crying again last night. I missed Kirk so badly that I made the mistake of re-reading the letter he left under my door. That burst the bubble once again. I wonder what he thought of the letter I sent him, if he shared it with anyone. I wonder what he thought when he realized I have deleted all of the accounts he used to be able to contact me through, gone through and deleted my account with the various teaching groups where several someones, at his lawyer’s instigation, left such damning reviews. And not just there but on my bookseller, ebay, and etsy accounts as well. I wonder what kind of idiot I must be to continue to wonder about such things since in the long run it really doesn’t change anything. I have got to stop it if I want to maintain some sanity.
I have two more days until I officially start my job as Mr. Haines’ housekeeper, though if I get one more unexpected visit from people “just wanting to welcome me to Haines Estate” I may just ask if I can start early. I doubt that they’d feel so free to poke and prod if I was at the Big House.
There is one funny thing; somehow or other the story of the “security camera” has gotten around. Mr. Haines and Mr. Crocker riding out of the bushes so soon after I had mentioned it has made a lot of people think and a few of them nervous. Mr. Haines hasn’t said anything directly but as he drives around in his truck, a couple of those hunting cameras are easily visible on the dash or in the seat … like he is installing them in various places. I’ve gotten a few questions and I’ve developed standard answers: Of course it doesn’t bother me, why should it? No, I don’t know where they are installed. It isn’t any of my business. I don’t know, and then there is the confidentiality clause of course. There’s security cameras at the businesses and warehouses aren’t there?
To be honest I haven’t a clue if there are cameras but it if makes them leave me alone I’ll live with them if there are. I had another run in with Maddie. Maybe not a run in exactly but I had the feeling that she is trying to feel me out or trip me up. I think she is having a hard time believing that I really don’t want to socialize and “have some fun.” She said I’d regret it. I heard the same thing from Kirk who said I was a stick in the mud and never wanted to have fun. I did at one time but sometimes what other people view as “fun” leaves me feeling the exact opposite. She said you’re only young once. Kirk said that too.
The similarities between Maddie and Kirk are starting to freak me out. Am I imagining it? I don’t think so. They even look somewhat alike because of their coloring. Good grief, maybe I am nuts.
Stop it. Refocus and move forward and stop letting the past swallow you up whole. Kirk wasn’t the enemy, not really. And I wasn’t some innocent maiden wronged since I bear some of the responsibility for the failure. But I moved away to start a new life, not to have the blasted past recreate itself in the form of a woman that sounds too much like my ex-husband.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you so much.
Hubby just went off to meetings for the day. I managed to get some baking done last night when he was down in town. Should get some more done today along with the normal stuff that needs doing.
Hubby just went off to meetings for the day. I managed to get some baking done last night when he was down in town. Should get some more done today along with the normal stuff that needs doing.