Maid - Stephanie Land Page 0,33

client. There were unmentioned notes that clients would never see, like, “You’ll really need to get in and scrub that shower because it gets so grimy in there” or “Watch for the pee that gathers on the floor in the half bath off the den.” But it opened my eyes to my job in a new way, that beyond the professional front, we secretly acknowledged the disgusting nature of our job.

At Classic Clean, I rotated as the sole cleaner among only a handful of houses to start. Wednesdays were long, six-hour days, cleaning two smaller houses that stood next to each other on the edge of a bluff overlooking the ocean.

Many of my clients lived on the neighboring Camano Island, which was a thirty-minute drive from Mia’s day care. A lot of the clients commuted to work in Everett or Seattle, at least an hour away. I really had no idea but just assumed they must have been big-city doctors and lawyers to afford the property taxes for the places they called home. Camano Island was wedged between the mainland and Whidbey Island, so most of the houses I cleaned had a view of the ocean. My Wednesday houses were two of my smallest, with detached garages that were twice the size of the clients’ living space.

Lonnie told me to clean the married couple’s house first, giving the other client time to leave before I started on his house. The morning we walked up to the first house, Lonnie nodded toward the house next door. “We’ll give him some time to get up and moving. He’s very sick.” I asked what from. Lonnie shrugged. “His wife passed away,” she said. “You’ll see. It’s sad.”

From then on, I called it the Sad House. I couldn’t think of it any other way. Other houses earned their nicknames the more I got to know them: the Cigarette Lady’s House, the Farm House, and so on.

When I started, it seemed so odd to me that neither of my Wednesday clients knew they had a new cleaner, but the house and I were properly acquainted. I don’t think Lonnie had to give them a heads-up unless instructed because of our invisibility. It would look bad if clients knew what a high turnover rate the company had. Perhaps they would feel weird knowing how many strangers rotated through their homes. I wasn’t a personal maid, but part of a company. They had hired and trusted the company, not me. I spent a half dozen hours in their house a month, and I don’t think they even knew my name.

The Porn House, as I’d come to calling it, was that first Wednesday home. The house really had only three rooms, with large windows facing the bluff and a rose garden in the back. Two people with a dog and a cat in a small space meant dust, hair, and dander. I had to pay close attention to places like mantels, tops of televisions, and the laundry room.

“This shower,” Lonnie said, opening the slider to reveal a stand-up shower in the shape of a square covered in hair, shampoo bottles, and what looked like a wad of green snot. “You’ll need to soak it.”

Our cleaning supplies were extremely minimal. In my tray, I had one refillable bottle of half water and half Dr. Bronner’s castile soap. In another was a quarter white vinegar and the rest water. I had one container of powdered Comet, one pumice stone, a toothbrush, a few green scrubby sponges, and two sizes of handheld scrub brushes. For this shower, with its visible film of soap scum and grime, there was a protocol.

The first thing I’d do is take out all the shampoo bottles, washcloths, and loofahs and neatly set them outside the door. Then I’d spray the entire shower with what Classic Clean called the all-purpose cleaner to soak it. After cleaning the counter and toilet, I’d fill a small milk jug that had been cut in half with water and set it in the shower. I’d need a sponge, a scrub brush, both of my spray bottles, and a few rags. I’d spray the inside of the glass doors again, sprinkle Comet on my sponge, and scrub it all, left to right, top to bottom.

Then I’d rinse with the vinegar water, dry it with a rag, scrub any missed spots, and call it good before turning my attention to the rest of the shower, which needed to be scrubbed in the same