Читать книгу Merciful Law - Darby Sr. Rae - Страница 7

After spending three days locked in my hotel room, I met with Lydia for just over an hour. I should have enjoyed the interaction, but since I spent the entire time lying to her, I felt awful. Nothing on my resume was true. Nothing on my application—except female—was true. I didn’t even look like myself with my long hair and new make-up. Even my clothing wasn’t me.

The three daycare centers I listed as previous Detroit employers were all out of business—I found them on the internet. I thought the references would be the tricky part, but you can basically buy them on the internet. It’s sort of sad—and scary. Not as easy as Googling fakereferences.com, but it’s pretty close.

Still, my interview went well with Lydia. She planned to check my references in the next couple days and have me out on interviews by Thursday or Friday. She kept her word and set up three for Thursday.

First Interview

Within the first three minutes I knew it wasn’t going to work with this couple. They couldn’t agree on anything. Both of them were equally ridged and controlling, but of opposite opinions on everything from scheduled nap times to what to feed the children and how to do it. Although they were completely cordial to one another’s opinion, there was an undertone of condescension as they offered their opposing views; it was amusing for the hour-long interview—maddening to work for, I’m sure.

Maybe if I had multiple personalities it would have been a fit. The interview ended with the typical pleasantries of we’ll get back to Lydia, thank you for coming. My thoughts—there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would work for these parents.

Second Interview

I began to rethink my career path. The first twenty minutes of the interview went very well bonding with the parents. Lydia said to make sure to meet the children while I was there so once all the preliminary questions were out of the way and I was feeling good about this family, I asked to meet Brandon. Enter Brandon. I don’t know if I have ever been frightened by a child…but this one looked truly evil. I’m not sure who he reminded me more of, Damien from The Omen, Malachi from Children of the Corn, or the kid in The Shining. He wanted to take me to see his room and I hesitated fearing psycho-kid would have “REDRUM” written in blood on his mirror or maybe he was planning to spin his head around and spit green vomit all over me. I went anyway…briefly.

I was careful to exit the house cautiously making sure I didn’t leave any personal items behind or loose strands of hair that demon child could make a voodoo doll out of. I was sure I would have nightmares that night.

I almost called Lydia to talk about these families. Maybe she had a strategy of sending me to two abnormal families so I’d take the third one even if it really wasn’t what I wanted. My last interview was that evening, so I would know pretty quickly if I wanted to stay on this career path or not.

Third Interview

This was a family that situational comedies are made from. The parents were pretty normal, in fact, I really liked them. Dad and Mom had a great sense of humor and the kids seemed pretty well behaved. It was the ever present mother-in-law who reminded me of what’s her name on the George Lopez show that was the deal breaker. It wasn’t that I couldn’t deal with her constant stream of insults; I guess I just didn’t really want to have to. Wasn’t there a normal family out there?

After an hour of mental gymnastics, I cordially stood up and thanked them for their time. The mother walked me all the way to my car, shook my hand smiling and said, “You’re not coming back for another interview, are you? It’s okay, I know Esther is a handful.”

“She’s two hands full.” I replied shaking my head. “God love ya. How do you do it?”

“Not easily,” she offered.

“I am sure there is a special place in heaven for you,” I said opening my car door to make my final get away.

“Well, if you reconsider, let Lydia know. You are one of the few we have interviewed that I think can handle Esther.” Obviously defending criminals had given me an interesting skill set.

Lydia and I had a scheduled call to de-brief the interviews. She knew I wasn’t working so she had sent me to job openings that needed someone right away. She had warned me they were tough families, but was hopeful. She laughed as I editorialized the interviews into short horror stories. I shared that I was second-guessing the nanny career.

“Annie,” she said, “I have something a bit outside nannying, but it is still technically ‘domestic help.’ There is a single father with two children who is looking for a personal assistant. I assure you he is very normal. The family has a full-time nanny already; in fact I placed her there three years ago. They also have a cleaning service that comes once a week. You’d be managing the operations of the household, light cooking, help with entertaining, and would take care of the boys—who are also very normal—every Wednesday afternoon and some weekends when he travels. You’re more or less a utility player here. The only catch is…”

“He’s psychotic?”

“No.”

“Sees the future?”

“No.”

“He’s an ex-con; transvestite; recluse?”

“No…oh no.” Lydia snickered. “It’s a live-in position, that’s all. I promise it will be better than what you have already experienced. Trust me,” she said, talking to me for the first time adult to adult.

“I do trust you on that, Lydia. I can’t imagine it being worse. I don’t understand the live-in part though.”

“That’s what he wants. It’s to back up the nanny and to provide a built in house sitter for when he travels.”

“Alright, one more interview.” I considered it might actually work out since home was presently a hotel. I was sure I could handle the job. After all, I managed the operations of a multi-million dollar law firm and our household affairs…well, the ones that Lawrence, the control freak, would allow me to…ah but I digress. One more interview couldn’t hurt.