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It’s okay, she told herself.It’s just for the summer. Probably. Maybe even less. Who knows when I’ll find a job?
“I hope you’re not unpackingeverything.” Brielle looked up where she sat on her shaggy brown carpet to find her mom standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. “It’ll just make moving out more of a pain for you—and you won’t have a lot of free time as long as you’re working for me.”
Brielle rolled her eyes. “Surely you could let me skip the whole ‘two weeks’ notice’ thing once I find a job.” She tossed the uniform on her bed and reached back into the closet. “I can use that time to pack and figure out what I want to take. I’m just making some room now and starting a pile for Goodwill.”
Her mom looked from the open box to the overstuffed closet and back again. “Okay, good idea. I don’t know if I can afford to let you stop too suddenly,” she said, disappointment creeping into her voice. “I’d need to find a replacement for you. We don’t vary our shifts anymore, not without good reason, and I’m not sure I’d be able to scramble to reorganize the other women’s time to cover your clients.”
“You don’t vary shifts anymore?” Brielle raised her eyebrows as she grabbed a crumpled-up bundle from the back of the closet that turned out to be a lacy, see-through black shirt. The kind her mom didn’t use to let her wear even if she’d never been stupid enough not to wear it without a tank underneath.
“Too many clients complained about ‘differences in cleaning styles.’ Once we’re sure the client is satisfied, we stick to it.” She didn’t comment on the top, but she watched it warily as Brielle tossed it on the floor beside her. If she wore it these days, she’d be afraid of being thought of as a Goth. Nothing wrong with Goth style, but it didn’t feel appropriate for a college grad.
Great. So I’m probably going to be stuck with Mrs. Tanaka every other day.Most normal clients only requested a cleanup once a week. But not Mrs. Tanaka. If it were within the woman’s means, Brielle was certain Mrs. Tanaka would just have a full-time maid move into her guestroom.
“You’ve got Mrs. Tanaka again this summer,” said Brielle’s mom, almost reading her mind. “Tracy was so happy you could take her off her hands for a while, and Mrs. Tanaka was always satisfied with your work in the past.”
If that was ‘satisfied,’ I’d hate to see how she acts when she’s unsatisfied.
Her mom didn’t have anything more to say on the matter. She hated when anyone bashed her clients, even if they were nowhere within earshot. “We started a new client just last week, and I’m giving you him as well.” She hesitated. “He’s… a bit of a handful.”
A handful? That had to be the harshest thing Brielle had ever heard her mom say about one of her paying customers.
“What do you mean?” Brielle wrung the frilly white blouse she’d grabbed.
“Nothing,” said her mom, straightening up and throwing back her shoulders. “Deena and him just haven’t clicked yet is all, so I’m shifting things around and giving you the job.”
“How can they not have ‘clicked’? If he just started last week, she couldn’t have been there more than once already. How badly could things have gone?”
“He’s a daily client.”
“What?” Brielle didn’t know if her mom had ever had any daily clients. Mrs. Tanaka certainly would have been, but even she seemed to know that things could only get so dirty in one day’s time and that it was worth hanging on to some of your social security and pension dollars.
Her mom shrugged. “Every day except Sunday. I guess his mother makes a point of visiting him on Sundays and she does the cleaning then.”
There were so many things wrong with that statement, Brielle didn’t even know where to begin. How old was this guy that his mommy still came to clean for him? How filthy was he that he needed someone toclean every single day? And wait, so was Brielle going to getanydays off, other than Sundays? Apparently not?
“Please tell me I at least have Sundays entirely off.”
Her mom sighed. “You have Sundays entirely off.” Beneath her words was the unspoken “but I don’t take any days off, so I don’t know why you need even a single day off” that Brielle was sure not to mistake. “And Saturdays, it’s just him. I gave you a really easy load this summer. I wanted you to have extra time to job search.”
Sure. One and a half days off per week. Plenty of time to go on interviews and scroll through job listings.
She sighed and her mom pinched her lips. “You told me this would just be until you find something better.”
“It is! It will be.” Brielle waved her hands around her mess of a room. “You’ll have your guestroom or sewing room or whatever soon enough.”
“Like I have time to sew.” Her mom grunted. “Brielle, I don’t want you to end up like me.”
“…The owner of a successful business?”
“The owner of ajust barely making it business, sure, but that’s not what I mean.” Brielle’s mom ran a hand up and down one arm, like she had a sudden chill. “I like what I do, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not what Iwanted. It’s not at all what I had in mind.”
Brielle reached up behind her and grabbed her Scrubbing Cherubs shirt, staring at the pudgy little half-naked winged baby holding a mop instead of a bow. “But then you had me and oh, well, there went all your hopes and dreams.”
Brielle’s mom took in a sharp breath and she stepped over some clothes on the floor with her long gait to sit at the foot of Brielle’s bed. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t regret having you girls.” She patted Brielle’s shoulder.
Brielle couldn’t help herself. “Even though you don’t fail to mention how you regret meeting my dad on a near-daily basis.”
Her mom’s hand clutched her shoulder hard. “Brielle, this isn’t what I’m talking about at all. I don’t even care whether or not you date or get married or have kids—I don’t even care if you do it all this summer and are moved into the house with a white picket fence by September.”
