Jordan

The opulent memories of my parents' house on Manhattan's Upper East Side shimmer in my mind like gilded threads through time. That part of the city is an embodiment of grandeur and privilege where luxury dances with elegance. It was within the walls of our family's majestic mansion that Charity, our unwavering caretaker, found her place in our lives when I was a tender five-year-old. Her presence became an irreplaceable pillar for us, especially for Rachel, my daughter, who never felt the void of her absent mother.

My mind wanders back to the tumultuous years of my youth. The arrival of Rachel was a turning point that altered the trajectory of my life. Vanessa, ill-prepared for motherhood, sought to rid herself of our child. My father paid a significant sum to ensure Rachel's arrival into our lives because of his unwavering principles. That pivotal day was when Charity arrived, cradling Rachel, the harbinger of a new chapter.

As I reminisce about the eve of my twenty-second birthday, vivid memories resurface. The day began with a moving truck stationed outside our family estate, Charity standing steadfast, with a baby in her arms, who, unbeknownst to many, was my daughter. It was a day that marked a profound shift, defining the contours of my existence.

Within the labyrinth of my recollections, I traverse moments spent with Patricia, Charity's daughter. She dwelled within our abode during the nascent years of her mother's tenure, but eventually, her presence faded into the fabric of distant memories. Faint echoes of her laughter and play during our shared childhood linger as fleeting shadows eventually swept away by the passage of time.

As Rachel anxiously awaits Patricia's return, my mind wanders through memories of days gone by, shaping my perception of the present.

“Rachel, you seem thrilled to meet Pat."

“Oh, I am, Dad! Mrs. Charity can't stop talking about her. We both love the same colour, and she's crazy about banana cakes. Mrs. Charity insists she bakes the most heavenly banana cakes ever.”

“Hey, slow down, princess. Remember, she won’t be staying for long. I just don't want you to get too attached and end up hurt when she leaves.”

“I'll be fine, Dad. But guess what? She’s off to fashion school next year!”

“Really?”

“Yes, maybe she could give me some fashion tips!”

“She just might do that.”

I secretly hope Pat will flounder with housekeeping and caring for Rachel, so her mom comes back and I can take forever to find a new caretaker. Suddenly, the doorbell rings, diverting our attention.

“I think she's here, Dad. How do I look?”

Now I see why Rachel is dressed a bit fancier than usual. She’s sporting a red and white cropped sweatshirt, black mom jeans, and white mules.

“You look amazing, honey. You'd look great in…”

“A potato sack and still rock it! Dad, with you, I can never look bad.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Charity. Feels like it's been ages since I saw you.” I say, opening the door.

“Stop being so dramatic. I was here yesterday, Jordan. How are you, my princess?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Charity. Dad can't function without you. He'll adjust eventually,” Rachel jokes as I usher Charity inside.

“Where’s Pat?” Rachel asks, all bubbly.

“She’s getting her stuff from the car.”

"Daddy, you should help her."

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Daniel is already helping her.”

“You spoil Dad too much. She’s your guest.” Rachel announces.

“Feeling a bit jealous?” I tease, maintaining my poker face.

“She should be joining us any moment from now.”

“Patricia…” Rachel rushes to hug her as she opens the door.

“Hey, Rachel! So nice to finally meet you. Love your outfit!”

Rachel blushes, sending me a proud look that says, “See that, Dad?”

“Please call me Ray; my friends call me Ray. You look even prettier in person. Dad, come help out.”

I snap back.

“Hi, Patricia. I don’t know if you remember, but we met when you were younger. Great to see you again.”

“Morning, sir. I'm sorry, I don't remember.”

“No worries; please come in. Mrs. Charity spoke very highly of you.”

“Unfortunately, I have a hospital appointment,” Mrs. Charity interrupts, hand to her chest.

"Sure, Mrs. Charity. Have a good day. Ray, baby, can you give Patricia and me some time alone? I would love to get to know her and run a few important things by her."

“Sure, Dad.”

“You have a lovely house and daughter."

“Thank you. I hope she’s not all in your face. She seems to have taken a liking to you. I am not sure what Mrs. Charity has told her about you."

“In my face? Not at all. She's a very happy child."

"Yeah, she is. How old did you say you are again?"

“Twenty-five.”

“Your mom says you cook well and handle kids.”

“I do my best.”

“Good. Let me show you around while I get to know you more.”

“That’d be great, sir. What would you like to know?”

“Tell me a little about yourself.”

“I schooled here in Manhattan, Ree College, Washington Heights. I studied fashion design and graduated at the top of my class. I spent some time living in Utah before returning to Manhattan for high school and college. It's just my mom and me. I'm sure you already know."

“Fashion school next year, huh? That’s a bold step. Your mom mentioned it.” I clarify.

“Very true, sir. I love fashion and would love to pursue a career in it."

“That’s crystal clear,” I comment, eyeing her outfit again. It’s not flashy, but it’s got its own unique charm. A white shirt dress, a vibrant orange and deep blue scarf, and those deep blue sandals—simple yet striking.

“In the industry, I know a few folks. Just in case you need a recommendation or mentorship.”

“Thank you very much, Sir.”

“Are you one to keep friends?"

“Not really. I have a few friends, but my very close friends are my cousins. They live in Utah."

“Oh, okay. I’m a private person, and I intend to know who stays around me and my child."

“I understand. You don’t need to worry about me feeding information to the press."

"Good, and you can’t have friends over too."

“Noted. Do I have free time?"

“Yes. Once you finish with the house chores and tending to Rachel. She is a priority. You need to let me know about your movements, so I don’t have to worry about days you stay late or something during your free time."

“Noted, sir.”

I give her a tour of the house, and then lead her to her room.

“I’ll keep you updated if any other thing I failed to mention comes to mind. For now, that will be all. I’ll leave you to settle in. Look through the pay and non-disclosure agreement and tell me if you are fine with the terms and pay.

“Ok, sir.”

“Where’s Pat?” Rachel asks excitedly.

“She’s in her room.”

“She’s so pretty, Daddy! I like her!”

While she possesses an undeniable attractiveness, there have been instances where I've encountered individuals whose beauty has left an even more profound and lasting impression on me.

“Take it easy, Ray, don’t overwhelm her.”

“I’ll try.”

This situation is likely to become complex.