The Maid

Amber Brown

The day dawned gray, matching my mood perfectly, though that no longer mattered. What I felt, or failed to feel, made no difference to my reality, which was far bleaker than I ever wished to endure or believed I deserved. My life had been flawless; I had no cause for complaint. Yet, in the blink of an eye, everything changed dramatically. In the span of what? Days? Hours?

I struggled to rise from my bed, knowing it would be the final time I lay upon its comforting embrace. Slowly, I made my way through the room, savoring its familiarity while it remained mine, until I reached the window to gaze upon the garden outside. Perhaps, I thought, I might glimpse it again in days to come, but the likelihood was slim. Descending the stairs, I found my mother seated on the couch, her eyes vacant, lost in contemplation. She, no doubt, was far more bewildered by the events that had transpired than I.

"Good morning, Mom!" I called her attention, trying to sound upbeat. "Have you packed your things?"

We no longer had any staff to help us load everything into the taxi. They all, without exception, scattered as soon as we received the notifications from the court confiscating our mansion in Ridgewood, New Jersey. I looked around, admiring the incredible property we had until just last week, and sighed resignedly. I grew up in that mansion; all my memories stem from here. It was a heavy weight on my chest to know that Dad had accrued enough debt for us to lose our home to pay it off.

"We'll be fine," I affirmed, unconvinced by what I was saying at that moment. Mom simply nodded. Without delay, I grabbed my cell phone, which, thankfully, hadn't been confiscated when the bailiff came to take Dad's cars, and opened the Uber app to request a ride. Now that we no longer had any cars available, it was time to head to what would now be our temporary residence. Since we couldn't simply be thrown out onto the street, the family lawyer, a longtime friend of Dad's, offered us his house in the Bronx. According to him, the house had recently undergone renovations and served as an extra source of income for him, renting it out to workers and the like.

He explained that the last tenant had moved out and the house was empty, so we could stay there at no cost for about six months. After that period, he would start charging us rent, but that would give us some breathing room until we found a job or sold our valuable belongings. I was already mentally planning the sales events where I would sell each item, ensuring that we could cover the rent without difficulty or find a better place to live.

However, since we were out of money at the moment and any large transactions in our accounts would be targeted by the bank to pay off my father's debts, we needed to keep low balances in our accounts, while the rest had to be kept in cash. Having just turned twenty-four, I was attractive, so it wouldn't be difficult for me to find a job. Besides, I knew that with everything we had, it might not even be necessary. Of course, we wouldn't have as many luxuries anymore and we'd need to save, but we could still live well for a long time.

If we were to consider the amount of money Bob, Dad's lawyer, earned during this period working for us, he should have given us the house instead of renting it. But that wouldn't have been feasible either. The mansion was sold for sixteen million dollars, and not even all that money was enough to settle Dad's debts. We still lost the cars and our stocks, although a few remained, but they were few. If we had any property, it would be sold to pay them off.

After about eight trips to bring all the suitcases, and I noticed that they barely fit in it, I felt better. We were really lucky not to have our personal belongings confiscated.

As I said, the two of us together had many brand-name clothes, suitcases, jewelry. The truth is that inside those suitcases was a small fortune, which as soon as we were settled in the borrowed house, I would make a point of organizing to sell them and know exactly how much we would have and how we would live with it.

I didn't go to college when I finished High School because Dad and I had a very serious discussion about the profession I wanted to pursue at the time. He demanded that I major in business administration to take over the companies, but I always dreamed of working with makeup. I told him I would enroll in the chemistry course because I had a great supporter at the time...

Well, I told him that I would work with cosmetics, even though my greatest pleasure was to create makeup of all kinds, including those grotesque ones used in movies. But I knew Dad would never accept it, so chemistry was a means to an end. But he was clever, he realized my intent and quickly took that possibility away from me.

He didn't allow me to enroll in college; he kept me trapped at home, and as a result, I missed the deadlines at the time. I felt so bewildered that I didn't give him what he wanted, and I refused to work with him. I ended up staying at home for the following years just spending the money we earned. However, I was good with numbers and understood investments because I always read about the subject and followed the stock market.

The trip to the Bronx was long; mom slept tightly beside me. I was feeling fearful of what we would find, but I was trying to be optimistic. I hoped with all my heart that the house would be minimally comfortable. We had so much in our mansion, and now I knew we would have little, very little in this new house. At least we would have a roof, I thought, trying to console myself, but that only brought me more anger knowing that the blame for this had been on the mistakes made by dad.

As soon as the car reached its destination, I got out of the car to calmly assess our new home. The house was semi-detached and two-story; there was a staircase in front that led to the main door. I looked at its width, and it was ridiculously small. I felt like crying when I noticed the cubicle we would have to live in; my room in the mansion was bigger than this whole house. I closed my eyes, containing myself from bursting into tears, until I heard the driver's voice, making everything even worse.

I felt miserable when I remembered that I only had two hundred dollars in my wallet, and that was purely by luck, because I was going out and had withdrawn the money the week before. However, my friend Lyn couldn't go due to some problem at home, so she canceled on me at the last minute, and with that, the money ended up staying put. I reluctantly handed him the hundred-dollar bill and took the twenty dollars in change, thinking about how long that amount would last until I needed to get more.

I hugged Mom, who looked desolately at our new house. We were so lost in that situation that we didn't notice when the driver left. We both silently cried as we looked at our new home with sadness and something very close to hatred. Dad had messed up, and we were paying the price for it. It wasn't fair, not at all. I don't know how much time passed during our delusions of suffering; I only realized the stupidity we were doing when Mom started screaming.