Chapter 8
Another two-fer to keep the story moving ... LOL
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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.”
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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.”