Chapter Fourteen

The owner of the house returns, and Miranda learns about the secret.

By the time my watch beeps four o’clock, my knees are shaking. My calves are burning, and the bottoms of my feet feel like the bones have been pressed straight through. My head is all loopy from sneezing every ten seconds, and any thoughts I might have had about being smart went right out the window with Samantha teaching me things I thought most people already knew, like how to vacuum and sort laundry.

Every door and window has been opened in an attempt to breathe after the dusting job ended in an enormous cloud which filled every room of the house and caused Samantha to sneeze so hard she threw up and had to go outside for air.

But that was hours ago. Hours which seem more like days, as cleaning seems to slow my concept of time. I feel that I’ve been working for a full week without meals or sleep.

“It’s only like that for the first couple of days,” says Samantha, dancing to her little pocket radio as she sweeps the floor of the dining room. “After that, you start getting used to it. Take it from me.”

She treats the broom like a guitar, plucking its invisible strings in time with the song on the radio, which I happen to hate.

“I’ve been working here for four years. The days seem to just flutter on by. Of course, it helps when you get to listen to music and stuff. Can you dust pan me?”

I heave a heavy sigh and grab the dust pan off the counter, bending down to hold it for her as she sweeps a huge mountain of dirt and trash into it.

“Disgusting,” she says, as I tip the pan into the garbage can. “How can anyone live like this? It’s so frustrating to come over here and do all this cleaning only so I can come back and do it again later. If I wasn’t getting paid for it, I’d say forget it. I mean, damn.”

I nod, wearily and hold the dustpan down for another round of crap.

Bending down, Alice’s song comes on the radio, and I frown.

“Hey, Samantha?”

She sweeps another mountain into the black, plastic dustpan and I dump it.

“Yeah?”

“What’s her name? The lady who owns the house, I mean.”

“Uh… Kathy? Katherine?”

“Is her last name Moss, by any chance?”

“No…” Samantha goes cross-eyed for a moment and then explodes into another sneezing fit. Rubbing her eyes, she sighs. “I think it’s Montgomery, or something like that. Why?”

“Oh. Not really any reason. I just wondered.”

“You just happened to wonder if her last name was Moss?”

I frown, looking away just as we both hear the door swing open down the hall. Samantha looks at her watch.

“Welp,” she says. “Let’s finish up in here as quickly as we can. And make it look like you’re really straining.”

“But I am really straining…”

Samantha grabs the bucket full of water and kneels on the floor, tossing me a scrubby brush.

“Scrub!” she hisses.

Together, we begin scrubbing the disgusting floor with our bare hands. What I thought was a dark, tan colored floor is actually bright white underneath all the sludge caked on. I grimace, rinsing out my brush in the soapy water.

“The place is looking great!” comes a friendly voice from somewhere up above.

I look up to see a tired looking woman smiling down at us, her long, grey hair tied up in a bun on top of her head.

“You girls have worked so hard,” she says. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll just let you finish up the floor in here, and when you’re done, come into the living room. I have something for each of you.”

She winks at me and leaves the room.

As soon as the sound of her footsteps disappears, Samantha starts scrubbing as fast as she can, doing a sloppy job.

“Let’s hurry,” she grunts. “Then we can leave.”

“I wanna do a good job,” I mumble.

Samantha laughs.

“What’s the point?” she asks. “We’ll just be doing the same damn thing a month from now. Do you really want to waste all your time painting a masterpiece just so someone can pour paint thinner on it? Be realistic, Miranda.”

“But she’s paying us money for this.”

Samantha sighs and shakes her head, carrying on with her half-assed scrubbing.

Me, I keep trying to do a good job, taking care to get into all the little cracks and spaces in the floor. Eventually, Samantha catches up to me and nudges me out of the way, haphazardly finishing the job that I was trying to do properly.

“And… we’re done!” she says, standing, taking off her apron. “Let’s go.”

Feeling bad about the pathetic floor job, I stand slowly and follow her into the living room, where Kathy is sitting in a chair by the window with something in a tumbler.

She turns to us and smiles.

“Thank you so much for all your hard work today, girls. I really appreciate it.”

She sets down her drink and reaches for a black leather purse on the floor at her feet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Samantha’s fingers twitch.

“You both put in a long, hard day of work,” says Kathy, pulling out a shiny black wallet from her bag. “Go have a good time tonight. You deserve it.”

Smiling, she pulls out a couple of fifty-dollar bills and hands one to each of us.

My jaw falls open.

“Thank you so much!” I say, astonished. “This is… Are you sure? I mean… I don’t know that I can accept this!”

She laughs a rather pleasant laugh, holding her hand up between us.

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiles. “You deserve it. I know how difficult it can be to do so much cleaning. I’ve gotten too old to handle my own chores, as you may have noticed, and I think it’s just wonderful that there are people like you who are willing to do such a difficult and dirty job for a living.”

I smile, trying to bite back tears, and turn to see if Samantha was actually listening to everything this poor woman said. But as I turn to look, I realize that the greedy b***h has already taken her money and left.

Inside, I rage.

How could someone be so selfish? This woman is not just a disgusting slob. She’s old and can’t handle cleaning this whole giant house by herself! And to do such a s****y job and then just take her money and run… That sickens me. I feel my lip quivering, and I bite it.

“Are you okay, honey? You don’t look so good. Sit down for awhile, won’t you?”

Thanking her, I sit down in the chair next to hers, sliding the money into my pocket.

“It’s your first day, isn’t it?”

“Is it that obvious?” I sigh, resting my head against the back of the chair.

“Only slightly,” she says, pouring a second glass of red wine and offering it to me. “But I’ve never seen you around before, so I figured you must be new.”

I accept the wine and take a sip, nodding.

“It’s my first day,” I tell her. “I’m definitely going to sleep good tonight.”

Kathy laughs her wonderful laugh which makes me feel warm all over.

“It’s rather large, isn’t it? I’ve thought about moving into someplace small, like an apartment, but this house is just so old and my family has lived here for so long… I could never sell it.”

“Do you have any relatives you could pass it onto?” I ask, remembering the picture of the small, toothless Floyd.

She sighs.

“Sadly, I have no children,” she says, wistfully. “I’m an old maid. Never married, never had any children.”

“You can’t be that old,” I say, politely. “I’m sure there’s still someone out there for you.”

Kathy laughs again, taking a sip of her wine.

“Possibly,” she says. “But there’s no hope for children this late in my life.”

I smile, and take another drink from my glass. The wine is sweet.

“Ms. Katherine,” I say softly.

“Please, call me Kathy.”

“Okay… Kathy…” I swish the wine around in my glass, thinking carefully. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Floyd Moss, would you?”

“Floyd?” she perks up a bit, looking me over. “I have a nephew named Floyd, but I haven’t seen him in a very long time. My sister got married and moved away many years ago. I haven’t really seen her since. She sent me one photo of him when he was about five or six, but nothing really else before or after since. Do you know him?”

I smile, taking a rather large swig of the wine.

“Oh, I can tell by that face that you do,” she grins. “You must have seen that picture on the wall in there.” She indicates the stairwell with her wine glass. “So, is he back in town, then?”

I nod, my voice hidden somewhere deep in my throat.

“And how do you know him, I wonder.” Kathy beams at me, her cheeks pink. “You must be his lovely lady, are you not?”

I manage to utter a laugh, wine trying to spurt out through my nose.

“No!” I giggle. “We’re just friends!”

“Are you sure about that?” Kathy swigs the last of her wine. “Those rosy red cheeks suggest otherwise.”

“Well, alcohol tends to do that to me,” I tell her. “He’s actually seeing my best friend, Alice. They’ve been together for, like, three years.”

“That must be tough.”

“Not really… why?”

Nervously, I tilt my head back, downing the remainder of my wine.

“Come now,” Kathy smiles. “It’s obvious that you have feelings for him.”

My mouth drops open before I can stop it.

“It’s not like that at all!” I protest. “In fact, we’ve only recently become good friends, Floyd and I. Alice had a… sort of a personal problem, so she’s been in the hospital trying to recover. We’ve just been visiting her together and such. But we really are just friends. I’ve sort of… given up on love and all that.”

“How sad,” says Kathy. “You’re a beautiful young lady. You could have any man you want. But the choice is yours, and we’ll just leave it at that. As for your friend, I’m sorry to hear about that. I hope things turn out for her.”

“Me too,” I sigh. “Me too.”

“Well, thank you for the company and for your hard day of work,” Kathy says, collecting my glass. “I’ll let you get on home now, so you can relax and enjoy the rest of your day. I doubt Floyd even knows who I am, but give my regards to him, and please see that he is happy. If there’s ever anything he needs, let him know that he can call me.”

She takes a pad of paper and a pen from her leather purse and scribbles down her phone number before handing it over to me.

“And don’t feel afraid to call me if you ever need anything yourself,” she adds. “Take care now, dear. I hope you’ll come work for me again.”

I smile, shake her hand, and stick the phone number in my pocket before grabbing my things and heading out the door.

The sun is low in the sky and the breeze is chilly. Gazing out at the orange landscape, I notice a white car with tinted windows parked across the street. Squinting, I try to get a good look at the car, which I was almost sure was parked outside my house this morning.

A strong gust of wind blows over me and I shiver.

Stepping into my car, I stick the key into the ignition and start it up, flipping on the heat.

It’s been a very eventful day and so many thoughts are bursting around in my head, trying to escape.

The empty lake… The rude and sloppy Samantha… The fact that I happened to clean the house of Floyd’s distant Aunt Kathy…

And we can’t forget how utterly exhausted I am. There is no way I’m cooking dinner tonight.

Remembering the fifty dollars still in my pocket, I decide I’ll just have some take out for dinner. Remembering the fifty dollar tip also makes me wonder how large my actual paycheck will be.

I start away down the street, taking my phone out of my pocket and dialing Floyd’s number. The line rings several times before Floyd picks up, muttering a breathless “Hello?”

“Hey,” I say. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Oh, no,” says Floyd. “I just got out of the shower, is all. It was a long and very dirty day at work. What’s up?”

I laugh.

“Yeah, I completely understand. I’ve had pretty much the exact same day. Um…” For a moment, I stop to think about exactly what I had planned to say to Floyd when I called.

“Listen… Are you busy tonight?”

“Terribly,” says Floyd, to which I frown. “I have just got so much to do around the house all by myself. I’ve got an entire night of loafing to accomplish.”

I laugh aloud, and Floyd joins in.

“Well, I was just thinking… If you wanna loaf, maybe you can come do it at my place? I was going to get some Chinese take out and maybe watch a movie. Also…” I teeter for a moment, wondering whether I should mention it. I decide that I’ll just leave him in suspense for the moment and continue. “Also, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” says Floyd, curiosity bleeding out of his voice. “What could that be?”

“I’ll tell you in person,” I say with a smile.

“Oh, ho ho. Well, I can’t wait to hear it. When should I be there?”

“Well…” I think for a second, trying to calculate the amount of time it will take to grab take out and run home. “Let’s go with 6:30,” I say. “And by the way, what would you like from the Chinese place?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Floyd says. “Just get an extra of whatever you’re having. You’ve got good taste, so I’m sure it’ll be good.”

“Alright then. See you at about 6:30, then.”

“Sure thing. Bye, now.”

I say goodbye and stuff the phone back into my pocket, heading for the Chinese restaurant where I’ve eaten since I was little. On the way, I pass Lake Boise again and depression washes over me like the waves that are no longer crashing against the shore.

What could have possibly happened to it? We’ve had plenty of rain, so I’m sure it didn’t just dry up. But if not, then the only possible explanation I can think of is that they drained it because they feel a shopping mall would look so much lovelier in its stead.

Disgusting. What’s the point of another shopping mall, anyway? Aren’t there enough as it is?

Heaving a sigh, I turn down a back road into the old neighborhood where I used to live. Even two blocks away, I can already smell the restaurant, and my mouth waters horribly, as I realize I haven’t eaten at all today.

I arrive at the restaurant and order as quickly as I can through the rush of people, all wanting dinner. Standing in line, I try not to look impatient as I stare at my watch. I’m never going to be home on time. My only hope is that Floyd leaves at 6:30, rather than aiming to be at my apartment by then.

I hear the clerk shout a number which I recognize as mine, and rush to the counter to collect the neatly packed bag of two chicken lo meins.

“Thank you,” I call, as I hurry out of the restaurant and back into my car, where I set the bag in the passenger seat and speed off toward my apartment.

Once back home, I am disappointed to see Floyd already sitting on the front steps, waiting.

Grabbing the bag from the car, I jump out and hurry up to him.

“I am so sorry!” I cry. “Have you been waiting here long?”

Floyd looks at his watch.

“Maybe five minutes,” he says. “You aren’t that late.”

I sigh, brushing my hair out of my face.

“Well, let’s go in,” I mutter, fishing my keys out of my apron pocket and unlocking the door before holding it open to let Floyd inside.

“So, how was your first day of work?” he asks, kicking off his boots. I groan.

“It was painstaking,” I say, honestly. “It was a really huge house, and the person who lives there isn’t able to keep up on the housework, so… It was kind of an insane amount of work. She was really nice though. I bought our dinner with the tip she gave me.”

“Big tip, huh?”

I collapse onto the couch, enjoying the feeling of not being on my feet.

“Yeah. I have a feeling she… Well… I’ll talk more about her in a bit. Come sit down, now. Let’s have dinner. Is chicken lo mein okay?”

Floyd plops down next to me and starts fiddling with the ridiculous knot that only Chinese people can ever seem to put in the handles of a plastic bag.

“I told you,” he says. “I’ll eat anything.”

Within a few minutes, he’s given up on the knot and just torn through the bag, extracting the two Styrofoam take out boxes and handing one to me.

I take it, lazily and open it up.

“Ooh,” I say, my appetite flaring back to life. “It comes with crab Rangoon.”

“Did you get this from Rice Palace?” Floyd asks, popping open his box.

I nod, stuffing my face.

“Thought so. They have the best crab Rangoon in the world.”

Together, we pig out on the delicious feast before us.

“Hey, Floyd,” I mutter through a mouth full of lo mein noodles.

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that Lake Boise is gone?”

Floyd swallows his food, nodding.

“Yeah,” he says. “Don’t you watch the news? They drained it because it was infested with zebra mussels.”

“Anymore details?” I ask.

“Uh… Well, zebra mussels are serious business, I guess… They can clog water pipes and s**t. So when a lake has them, they have to drain it to kill them off. But once they’re gone, they’ll fill it back up again.”

I heave a gigantic sigh of ultimate relief.

“Well,” I say. “I’m so glad they didn’t just drain it so they could build something. That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Why would they drain a lake they built?” he says. “That would be pointless.”

“They built it?!”

“Oh, yeah,” says Floyd. “You didn’t know that, either? Lake Boise was man made.”

I sit back, my jaw hanging open.

“Well… I guess we learn something new each day. Which reminds me…” I sit up straight, turning to face Floyd. “I still have something important that I need to tell you.”

A noodle slips down Floyd’s chin and lands in his plate, which he sets aside and turns to me, providing his undivided attention.

“I wonder what’s so important,” he says, itching his chin. “Could I guess?”

“Floyd, you’d never in a million years be able to guess what I’m about to tell you,” I assure him. “So don’t waste your time. I’ll just tell you.”

“Alright then,” he says. “Give it to me.”

“Well…” I set my food down on the table and fold my hands in my lap. “You know how I said I cleaned this really big, old house today?”

“No,” says Floyd. “I have really bad short term memory loss.”

“Ha-ha. Seriously, though. I was dusting this morning, and I ran into a picture on the wall…”

Floyd raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“Um… Well… the picture was of a little boy with blonde hair and freckles. He had his two front teeth missing.”

“Okay?”

“Floyd. It was a picture of you as a child.”

His eyes widen but he doesn’t look away.

“Why the hell would someone have a picture of me on their wall?” he asks.

“Well,” I say. “It’s because the woman who owns the house is your Aunt Kathy. Do you know her?”

Floyd blinks a couple of times before grabbing his food again.

“I know of her,” he says. “But I’ve never actually met her, I don’t think. She has a picture of me?”

“Yeah… She said your parents moved away and didn’t keep in contact much, other than to send that picture to her. She said that if you ever need anything, you can call her.”

I pull the note out of my pocket and hand it to him. He looks it over thoroughly and then pulls out his cell phone to program it in, before handing it back to me.

“Wow,” says Floyd, sitting back on the couch and blowing a huge sigh into his dinner. “That’s insane. You just happened to meet her by cleaning her house? Jeez…”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s like fate.”

Floyd shakes his head slowly.

“Well,” he says. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I’ll have to give her a call sometime. I guess we have quite a bit of catching up to do.”

“A lifetime,” I say, picking up my food and shoving a crab Rangoon into my mouth. “Well, now that you’re in shock, do you wanna watch a movie?”

Floyd laughs.

“Sure,” he says. “Whatcha got?’

I turn on the TV and change it to the streaming video channel.

“Why don’t we pick one from here?” I say.

Floyd shrugs and together we browse the many titles until we find one that seems interesting and I put it on.

Taking the last bite of my food, I set the empty plate on the table and lean back, sucking in a huge breath.

What a day.

I yawn, forcing myself to keep my eyes open. It probably wasn’t smart to start a movie when I’m probably just going to fall asleep anyway.

The kitchen holds coffee, but I’m too lazy to get up.

Resting my hands behind my head for support, I yawn again, wondering how Alice is doing and whether we’ll be able to visit her again soon without her freaking out.