Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,111
guess was the kitchen.
Casey never took her narrowed eyes off me as she yelled back, her pitch reaching an unnecessary volume, “Some man. He won’t tell me who he is. He’s got one of those stretch limousines.”
“Unless he’s got one of those big checks with him, tell him he’s got the wrong house…He’s probably looking for Amanda’s three houses down,” the older woman yelled back, unconcerned.
I rolled my eyes, and gave the little girl guarding the doorway one last look before shouting over her head, “I’ve come all the way around the world to see you and this is the reception I get!”
Heavy footsteps marked the tiny woman’s steps, louder than anyone her size had a right to be. Aurelia turned the corner with a scowl on her mouth and delight in her eyes. Pleasure spilled out of my heart at the sight of my beloved housekeeper, and I was almost sick with it. Happiness can do that to you when you’ve grown so unused to its presence.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” I inquired, eyeing her Chihuahua-sized guard dog that was masquerading as a nine-year-old girl.
“Casey knows better than to let in strange men that are creeping about.” Aurelia patted the little girl’s dark head. They favored each other in so many ways, I couldn’t even begin to count them. It was like looking at a tiny clone of Aurelia, if you subtracted fifty or so years. The girl did seem to have a little more height working on her side. She was already almost taller than her grandmother.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called creepy before.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” She eyed me speculatively. “Well, come in, if you must.”
Without a word, I handed off the bouquet of flowers I’d had hidden behind my back to Casey, then sidestepped her to wrap my arms around the woman I missed every time I opened my fridge to find it lacking a snarky little note about my weight. She let me have my hug, embracing me back with motherly affection.
“I know you’ve missed me,” I assured her with a wide smile.
She rolled her eyes and grabbed my flowers from Casey, dismissing the child and leading us into her kitchen. It was impeccably clean, not that I expected anything less. The appliances were outdated, but somehow, it only added to the cottage-like charm. It was like stepping into a fairytale with the baby-blue cabinets and cream-colored walls. There were no signs of the rundown world residing just outside the windows.
She instructed me to take a seat at the round table in the corner of the room, and I happily took one of the four cushioned chairs that looked like they’d come straight out of a 1950’s American sitcom. I admired the house’s mismatched appeal as she made us tea.
“I’ve come to steal you away,” I announced when I’d run out of things to examine.
“How romantic,” she replied dryly, still busy with the stove. I was a little disappointed she didn’t need a footstool to reach it. I’d always imagined her needing one when she cooked in the kitchen in my old house. It had only added to her mystique.
“Now we both know you’re too good for me...I’m going to lure you back to Australia with an outrageous salary and promises of building you a grand house. It can even be bigger than mine, if that’s what it takes.”
She had a good laugh at that, almost sloshing the teacups off the tray as she walked to the table.
I sipped my cup contently, letting the warm liquid soothe my throat. It was just the way I liked it, and it only reinforced my belief that she was the best housekeeper I could ever have.
“Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here. You know very well I’d never leave my grandbabies for any amount of money or square footage.”
I didn’t bother denying it. I’d have been ecstatic if she’d agreed, but I’d known it was a long shot.
“What do you know about love, Aurelia?” I said, getting right down to business.
“I’d much rather hear what you think you know about love.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I think I don’t really know anything about it all,” I admitted. “I think my job has skewered my perspective, so I’ve come to ask for an outside opinion.”
“Who’s the girl?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone. My concern lies more now with what that means for the rest of my life.”