Stains That Won't Come Up

*Anna*

I run a dust towel over the coffee table in one of the many parlors in the Young family’s large estate, but my eyes are focused out the window. I’m not really looking at anything, though I do see some beautiful birds flittering about the bird bath in the garden. Still, my mind can’t focus on anything–except my husband.

I let out a sigh and spray some more Pledge on the table, maybe dragging my towel through it, maybe not. I have no idea. I just keep thinking about how stupid it was for me to attempt to get involved in Grant’s business. Trying to give him advice on how to do his job was idiotic of me. When it backfires, and he ends up looking ridiculous in front of the entire family, he will blame me. And with good reason. He will have every reason in the world to run off with Barbara then.

“Well, good grief!” I hear Hattie’s voice, and my head swivels around to see her coming into the room, stomping her feet like an angry buffalo. “How long does it take one worthless idiot to dust a room? Two hours, apparently!”

I glance at my watch to see if I’ve actually been in this room for two hours. It’s more like thirty minutes, but Hattie has always been prone to exaggeration. “I’m sorry. Is there something I can help you with?” I ask, actually looking at what I’m meant to be doing and manage to clean the rest of the spray off the table in a few swipes. It wasn’t dusty anyway. I just cleaned it yesterday.

“Yes, there is something you can help me with.” Hattie places her hands on her hips with a “humph” sound that reminds me a little bit of an elephant. “You can come into my bedroom and get this lipstick stain out of the carpet that you must’ve left there the last time you came in to clean.”

I stare at her a moment, trying to remember when I last wore lipstick–it might’ve been my wedding. There’s no way in the world the lipstick on her carpet is from me. But then, she already knows that.

“Of course,” I say, bowing my head. “I’ll be right in.”

“Be quick about it! If my husband comes home from work and sees it, he’ll be livid!” She storms out, and I pray she’s going to spend her time elsewhere while I struggle with the lipstick.

With the dusting done, I head to the kitchen where Elmira, one of the maids, is digging under the kitchen sink for something. “Got any Dawn down there?” I ask her.

“Ooh! You startled me, Ms. Anna.” She almost hits her head on the cabinet, she stands up so quickly.

“It’s just Anna,” I remind her with a smile. “If I ever become an accepted member of the family, well, you can still call me just Anna.” 

She shakes her head slowly. “Is there something I can do instead of you?”

“Nope.” The last time one of the maids tried that, we both got in trouble. “Just need some Dawn dishwashing liquid if we have any. It cuts through oil better than anything else, and I’m pretty sure the bright red lipstick Hattie wears is oil based.”

Elmira ducks back under the cabinet and pulls out a bottle of Dawn. I thank her and get a new rag from the drawer before heading into Hattie’s room. 

I can hear her in the bathroom. It sounds like she’s soaking in the bathtub while she talks on the phone. I can’t imagine what it’s like to work so little that one has time to laze around like that. But then, her husband makes a lot of money at the company, and Hattie only works when she wants to.

On my knees, scrubbing the stain, which looks like a straight line has been drawn across the carpet–suspiciously, in my opinion–I try not to listen to her, but it’s difficult because she’s so loud.

“He said that?” Hattie asks whomever she’s speaking with before laughing so loud the floor vibrates. “What a fool. Well, you won’t have to worry about your brother getting the position when Grandmother Trudy retires. What an idiotic proposition! Let him try to find a property Savage Enterprises will be more interested in. He’s chasing a wild goose!”

I roll my eyes at the way she’s said the metaphor wrong, but the rest of me is frozen in fear. She’s probably right. Part of me wants to call Grant and tell him that he shouldn’t try the tactic I proposed, that he’s doomed to failure.

But it sounds like he’s already proposed the idea to Grandmother Trudy, which means he has to put up or shut up.

God, if only I could do the work for him. If only I had some idea about Savage Enterprise, but I don’t–and when would I have any time to research while I’m on my knees scrubbing lipstick out of beige carpet?

At least the stain is coming up. Unfortunately, the stain I’ve left on my marriage will be permanent.

“I can’t wait until he divorces that fool Anna and marries Barbara. She comes from such a good family. Her parents are wealthy, and her mother is part of high society–not a worthless leach like Sarah.”

I fall back onto my bottom at Hattie’s hateful words. I’m used to hearing the entire family speak about me in such a way, but I hate it when they bring my mother into it. The fact is, my mother has always paid rent to the Young family for the house she lives in. It hasn’t always been easy for her, especially since my father left her as soon as he found out she was pregnant. She’s always done as much as she can to earn enough money to pay for us to stay here, including taking on seamstress work, cleaning people’s homes, and other tasks that would be considered beneath members of the Young family.

Except for me, of course.

“Don't worry, husband,” I hear Hattie say. “You will definitely get the promotion. Since Grandmother Trudy’s backside has been bothering her more and more, she’s wanting to retire. Poor dear. Hemorrhoids are so painful.”

My eyebrows arch, and my mouth falls open. I had no idea Grandmother Trudy was suffering from such an ailment. To think Hattie is just openly discussing something that could be considered embarrassing is awful.

I finish up and go get some water from a nearby bathroom–not Hattie’s–to get the soap out of the carpet. Thankfully, the stain is out, and I can leave the room before Hattie gets out of the bathtub.

Now, I need to go hide in my room before I’m asked to do any other chores. I’ll have to face my husband soon–and apologize for being both a horrible wife and a horrible businessperson.

Maybe he would be better off with Barabara.