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“How old are you?”

Before I could answer, Alisha sighed.

“Mama, can you say hello first?”

“I asked her a question.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Patterson,” I said. “It's nice to meet you.”

“I told them I wanted somebody older.” She turned to her daughter. “Did you tell them that?”

“I told them we needed somebody with experience.” Alisha looked irritated and disappointed in her mother.

“Well, she doesn't look like she has any.”

I kept my smile in place. When all I wanted to do was projectile vomit on her like in The Exorcist.

“I've helped clients with their personal care and meals. I'm comfortable helping you get around, too.”

“I can get around.”

“All right. Then you can tell me what you'd like help with.”

“I'd like somebody to listen when I say what I want.”

Alisha pulled out a chair for me. I sat down and opened my folder, hoping we could get past the introduction.

“Do you have experience with memory loss?” she asked.

“Yes. My last client had trouble with her memory. I helped with her daily routine and made sure she had company.”

“What happened to that job?” Mrs. Patterson asked.

“The arrangement ended.”

“Did they fire you?”

“Mama.”

“What? If she was so good, why didn't they keep her?”

I looked down at the résumé in my hands. I had practiced answering that question in the car, but hearing it put like that made me forget what I had planned to say.

“The family decided to make other arrangements,” I replied. “Aubrey can speak to my work.”

Mrs. Patterson watched me for a moment, then shook her head.

“I don't think this is going to work.”

“We haven't even talked about the schedule,” Alisha said.

“I don't need to talk about a schedule. I told you I wanted somebody older.”

I closed the folder.

“That's okay. You should be comfortable with whoever helps you.”

Alisha gave me an apologetic look, but her mother had already turned her attention to the television.