Maid - Stephanie Land Page 0,42

meant gas money that would not be reimbursed. Saying no to Lonnie meant risking my job, but I risked quitting entirely if I went back. “I don’t think I can go back there. That toilet made me want to quit.”

Lonnie sighed. She knew how desperate I was to work, how I truly couldn’t afford to waste gas. “I’ll figure something out,” she said and hung up the phone. I never found out whether or not she had someone return in my place. Maybe they called Sheila to go back, but Pam was probably the one who had to finish the job. If she did, she never mentioned it to me.

10

HENRY’S HOUSE

Lonnie and I stood on the concrete porch for her to introduce me to my new client’s house. We had knocked on the red wooden door and then stood for at least a minute, listening to a chorus of barking and someone shuffling around inside trying to calm the dogs. The man who swung open the front door wore a bathrobe, white shirt, navy blue sweatpants, and slippers.

“You’re here!” he said, his voice booming. The dogs, two exuberant Australian shepherds, wagged their stumpy tails and jumped in excitement.

“Henry,” Lonnie said. “I’d like you to meet our very best cleaner, Stephanie.”

“Well, come in,” he said, and then motioned to help carry my supplies. Lonnie smiled and thanked him, and Henry closed the door behind us. He set down the bag of white rags folded into quarters and said, “Let me show you how things should be done.”

Henry had asked for a new cleaner. Lonnie talked me up quite a bit and convinced him I’d do a better job than his previous one. I’d been instructed to clean the house only to his specifications. In the order he wanted. To never be late. To never go overtime. To always, always do my best. The clean would take four hours every other Friday. “Be prepared to sweat,” Lonnie told me.

Henry already intimidated me. When I finally saw him after Lonnie had told me how picky he was, I shrank back involuntarily. He stood almost a foot taller than me. He was straight-backed and confident, and his large belly stuck out in front of him.

We started in the front sitting room, which Henry and his wife used as an office. They both had large, shiny mahogany desks. Henry’s desk sat by the front window, where most people would put a fancy couch. Shelves on the wall were filled with western novels, travel books, and computer programing manuals. He had two computer monitors on his L-shaped desk. They’d moved here after he’d retired from some sort of tech job in Hawaii. The surface of his desk was hidden under piles of bills, cameras, and manuals. In contrast, his wife’s desk was smaller and neater—a scanner, a laminator, piles of clipped magazine articles on recipes and scrapbooking tips, and photos of their dogs and cats.

Henry would be home while I cleaned, and he needed me to clean the house in a certain order to coincide with his routine. I’d clean the office and formal dining room while he finished his breakfast and watched the news. By the time The Price Is Right came on, I would move to the other end of the house, pausing on my way to the guest bathroom to clean the laundry room, and then on to the master bath.

In the guest bathroom, I’d first pile the four rugs outside the door to be cleaned later. I would clean the toilet first, which sat across from a large, double-headed standing shower lined with river rock. Henry said he’d clean that himself. After refolding the towels, I’d wipe down the corner Jacuzzi tub, which, as far as I could tell, they never used. They used the hot tub on the porch, Henry explained, gesturing to the swimsuits hanging on the door. After the tub, I would clean their mirror, big enough that I had to kneel on the counter to reach the top, and dust the lights, double sinks, and cluttered counter. The wife’s side had several clear plastic drawers and stands with various shaped holes to hold brushes and other beauty tools I didn’t recognize. Henry’s side of the sink had multiple medication holders—the compartmental kind with the first letter of the day of the week on top. He had several toothbrushes, and there was splattered toothpaste everywhere.

Before vacuuming the rugs, I had to spot-clean the walls and mop the floors. When