Authors: Jennifer Close
“One step at a time,” Weezy said. “You’ll get there.”
MARTHA WAS SENT ON AN INTERVIEW
on the Main Line in Villanova, which was almost forty minutes away. Linda explained that this was a new client, a family that needed someone to stay with their father on the weekdays. “It can be tricky to navigate a new client,” she said. “Often the patient doesn’t feel that he needs the extra care, and the family is uncomfortable about the whole thing. Tread lightly.”
Martha kept repeating that to herself as she drove to the house. “Tread lightly,” she said. She wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but it sounded important and sort of tricky. She could handle it.
Martha set out early to get to the house, afraid that she was going to get lost even though she’d printed out the directions and had a GPS in her car. She figured she could just sit in the car and drink her coffee if she was early, but when she pulled up to 24 Rock Lane, she didn’t think that was such a good idea. It was the biggest house she’d ever seen, and since there were only about three giant houses on the block and each one of those houses had an enormous driveway, hers was the only car on the street. If she parked there, they’d probably report it to the police.
She drove down the windy road once, then around the block and came back to the house. She was only about twenty minutes early, which wasn’t too bad. It would just show them that she was punctual, so she pulled into the semicircle driveway and parked her car.
When Martha rang the doorbell, she heard a deep and echoing chime ring through the whole house. She waited at the door for about five minutes, and just when she was about to ring it again, the door swung open. Standing there was a woman in her mid-forties, wearing dark slim jeans and a light pink button-down shirt. She had long blond hair that hung straight down her back, much longer than women her age normally wore it, but somehow it looked just right. She was very slim—almost bony—but in an attractive way, Martha thought.
“Come in, come in,” she said. “I’m Ruby.”
“That’s my dog’s name,” Martha said.
“Really?” Ruby didn’t smile. “My real name is Ruth, but no one ever calls me that.”
“That’s my cousin’s girlfriend’s name.” Martha couldn’t stop herself from saying these things. They just kept coming out. Ruby just nodded, like this was a fact she already knew.
“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” Ruby made an apologetic grimace, and Martha saw that she had a gap between her two front teeth, like that actress whose name she couldn’t remember. It seemed a strange thing, to have such a glaring orthodontic disaster on that face. Surely they had money for braces in this family. How had that been overlooked? Martha slipped off her shoes and prayed that her feet wouldn’t smell. She wished she’d painted her toenails, but she didn’t know that she’d be baring her feet in this interview.
“It’s just that the nurses have said that any dirt in the house could cause a problem, and we have the cleaning lady only a few times a week now. But the house is so big and it gets so dusty in here.” Ruby made another face, like she was put out by how huge the house was.
“Not a problem,” Martha said. She noticed that Ruby was also barefoot, and that her toes were painted a perfect deep red. Her feet looked tan, and even her toes looked thin and elegant. Martha covered her left foot with her right foot and hoped Ruby wouldn’t look at her toes.
Ruby motioned for Martha to follow her, and she led her to a sitting room off the front hall. Martha sat down in a light pink flowered chair, and crossed her feet again. Ruby perched herself on a strange little piece of furniture in the corner, a green stool, that was shaped like a mushroom. Was it a muffet? Martha had never seen one, but she was pretty sure that’s what it was.
“So, I brought a copy of my résumé, although I know you’ve already seen it.” Martha handed the piece of paper over to her, and Ruby took it but didn’t look down.
“I don’t know how much the agency told you, but I can fill you in. My father’s almost eighty and he’s been having some trouble lately. He’s generally been in really good health, but a couple of months ago they found some tumors on his spine. They were benign, but they had to operate, and the surgery was hard for him to recover from. We got night nurses to come in, just to make sure that he didn’t need anything, and that seemed like it was enough. But then last week, he was walking to the bathroom and he fell. He was alone, because Jaz had run out, and so he was on the floor for almost an hour.”
“Oh no,” Martha said. She wasn’t sure if Ruby wanted a response, but she felt like she should give one. Ruby nodded and looked pleased.
“He didn’t break anything, thank God. But there was some bruising and he’s still a little sore.”
“Who—who is Jaz?”
“Oh, Jaz is sort of the keeper of the house. She was our nanny when we were little and then she just stayed on, because we couldn’t have made it without her. She does the grocery shopping and just sort of makes sure things run. You know, some light cleaning, the daily dishes, garbage, that sort of stuff.”
“Great,” Martha said.
“We thought it would be enough, to have Jaz here during the days when my father was here, you know, to stay with him until the night nurses came. But Jaz has said that she can’t do that, that she needs to be able to run errands. She’s kept a pretty loose schedule for the past few years, so I guess that’s hard to change.” Ruby shrugged, like she didn’t really believe this, but there wasn’t much to do about it. She closed her eyes, arched her back, and stretched her arms up in the air.
“So, you need someone during the days,” Martha said.
Ruby righted herself and opened her eyes. “Right. Sorry, I’m just exhausted. I’ve been filling in most days until we got this solved. Anyway, it’s not such a hard job. He really doesn’t need much attention, just someone here to make sure that he has what he needs, that he can get his meals, all of that.”
“Great,” Martha said again.
“He’s not much for television, though, which can limit his entertainment. I should tell you that.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
The doorbell rang, and the chimes went through the house again. “Would you excuse me?” Ruby asked. “That’s probably the cleaning lady. I’ve told her to use the key, but …” She turned her palms up, like,
What can you do with these people?
Ruby pronounced
cleaning lady
very clearly, like she wanted to say
maid
but knew she shouldn’t.
Martha heard the door open in the other room and heard Ruby say to the lady, “I’m not going to tell you again, use your key!” She said it in a funny tone, like she was trying to make a joke, but it came out sounding kind of mean. The woman scooted through the hall and into the other room without looking at Martha.
Ruby came back into the room and shook her hair back, gathered it in her hands like she was going to pull it back in a ponytail, and then let it go again.
“So, do you have any more questions? I’m trying to think if I forgot to tell you anything. Let’s see. My brother and I come by pretty often. We take turns, and try to check in at least every other day, although sometimes we can’t make it. And what else? Well, we’d need you to start right away.” Ruby looked at Martha as though she was waiting for an answer.
“I think that sounds perfect,” Martha said. This was the easiest job interview she’d ever been on.
“Really?” Ruby asked. She clapped her hands together and smiled. “That is just great, just so great. You have no idea what a stress this has been.”
“I can imagine.”
“Would you like to meet him? My father?”
“Yes, that would be great.”
Ruby led her down a long hallway and they turned left past the kitchen. The walls were dark wood and the floors had dark oriental runners. Martha had trouble seeing, her eyes not adjusting to the lack of light right away.
“My father’s bedroom used to be upstairs, of course, but a few years back we converted his study into a sort of bedroom area. It’s just easier for everyone.”
Martha nodded, even though Ruby wasn’t looking at her. “That sounds efficient,” she said.
Ruby stopped outside of two double doors. She knocked lightly on one and then slid it open. “Hello, hello!” she sang out. Behind her, Martha saw a man in a leather chair with a blanket over his legs. His hair was neatly combed and he was wearing a deep blue sweater. He looked sort of tiny. He had the paper on his lap, and looked up slowly when they came in. On the other side of the room, a large black woman sat reading a book with a vampire on the front cover. She put it down when they walked in and stood up.
“Well, look who it is,” she said. “It’s Ruby.” Ruby smiled and looked down.
“Hello,” Mr. Cranston said. He looked back down at his paper.
“We were just having some reading time,” the woman said. She looked at Martha, and then back at Ruby.
“Jaz, this is Martha,” Ruby said, but her eyes stayed fixed on her father.
“Martha Coffey,” Martha said, extending her arm out. Jaz laughed and shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Martha Coffey. Are you the person the agency sent over?”
“That’s me.”
“Well, come meet Mr. Cranston.” Jaz led her over to the man, and Martha shook his hand, and he said hello again, but it was clear he just wanted to get back to the paper.
“Let’s give Mr. Cranston some peace,” Jaz said. They all walked out into the hallway and Jaz shut the door behind her.
“Well,” Ruby said, “do you want to just hang out here with Jaz for a while and she can fill you in on the details of the job?” Ruby looked at Jaz hopefully.
“Oh, chicken, that’s fine,” Jaz said. “You can get out of here.” She sort of swatted Ruby’s butt, which surprised Martha, and Ruby jumped and laughed.
“Thanks, Jaz,” she said, and she walked away quickly.
Martha and Jaz looked at each other in the hallway for a moment.
“So, that’s it?” Martha asked. “I got the job?”
“Oh lord, yes. That girl would’ve given the devil himself the job if it meant she could have her days free again.”
“Oh,” Martha said. She looked down at her naked feet.
“Oh, now, I don’t mean that you’re not qualified. We’re lucky to have you. Come on to the kitchen and we’ll have some tea and talk.”
The kitchen, unlike the rest of the house, was bright and inviting. The wallpaper was covered in colorful fruit, and the tabletop was a shiny marble. Martha took a seat on one of the wooden stools and waited as Jaz filled the red teakettle and arranged the teacups.
“I was Ruby and Billy’s nanny when they were little,” she said. Martha nodded and she went on. “And then when they were older, I just stayed on, to drive them places and make sure that things were in order. It’s funny, you know. Not what I had planned for my life, but that’s how it works sometimes.”
Jaz set down the mugs and a wooden box full of all different kinds of tea. Martha picked out a mint tea bag and put it in her mug, while Jaz filled it with boiling water. She blew on her tea and waited for Jaz to start talking again. She already liked her a great deal.
“It’s hard here, for Mr. Cranston alone in the house. His wife died about five years ago now, but he doesn’t want to go anywhere—refuses, actually, to leave the house.” Ruby lowered her voice for this part, like Mr. Cranston was eavesdropping outside.
“I can imagine it’s hard,” Martha said.
“It would be easier if he went somewhere with more care, but he wants to stay in his house, so what can you do? The children can’t talk him out of it, and Lord knows, he has the means, so here we are.”
Martha and Jaz talked for almost two hours. Jaz told her about Ruby’s teenage years, how she ran away, stole some of her mother’s jewelry, crashed a car. “That child caused her parents so much heartache,” she said. She told Martha about Billy and Ruby, how they weren’t on speaking terms anymore, how she was the only way that they got messages to each other. “Despicable,” she said. “Their father is in the last part of his life, and they can’t even get over themselves to come together for him.”
Martha told Jaz about nursing, how she wanted to get back to it, how she had failed at it before. She told her about J.Crew and how she excelled there but wasn’t happy. Jaz listened, nodding her head and saying, “Mmm-hmm” every once in a while. When Martha was done, Jaz set her cup of tea down and put her hand over Martha’s.
“Child, listen. You’re on a journey. You didn’t like the way life was going, so you’re rewriting your own story. That’s what you have to do. You don’t see it now, but this is the most important part of your life. If you don’t like the story that’s being told about your own life, you’ve got to change it. You’ve got to tell a different story.”
When Martha got home that day, she took out her notebook and wrote down Jaz’s words.
You’ve got to tell a different story
. She looked at it before she went to bed that night and smiled. Who needed Dr. Baer? She had Jaz, who seemed much smarter, was nicer, and gave her tea to boot.
CHAPTER
8
It was Weezy’s secret. No one needed to know. She wasn’t hurting anyone, not even a little bit. It was just something to fill her time, something to lift her spirits. But if Will found out, he’d think she was crazy. And her kids—well, they would probably call the nuthouse and make her a reservation right then and there. That’s why she kept it to herself. No one needed to know.
It wasn’t like she meant to do it. No, it had all been innocent enough. Weezy had been smack in the middle of planning Claire’s wedding when it was called off. Just like that, it was over. She’d been talking to caterers and venues, had meetings set up, had been enjoying all the research, and then one day Claire called and it was all done.
She’d never thought she’d be the type of person to get so involved in wedding planning, but she was wrong. It was a whole different ball game since she and Will had gotten married in the Starlight Room, with a lovely, simple lunch reception. For her own wedding, she’d made her dress, worn her hair straight and down. They’d all eaten and danced and that was that.