When I arrived home from the beach, as a matter of fact, whenever I arrive home from a trip, my luggage usually sits on the bed bench until I realize what I am looking for might be in that luggage and then I unpack. That is the single me. The attached me rarely packed and never unpacked after any trip. My job was to plan the trip, pay for it, get us there and home by the appropriate means of transportation then go up to my studio and look at my disc in my camera. No matter how tired or late I had to see my shots. It was like opening a present, especially if it was a good trip and my creative juices were flowing, it did not always happen but for me, it was a fair trade.
As for housework, nope, not my job. I did not mind being the bread winner in exchange for “the good wife” sexist, perhaps but not in my heart. I had the earning potential, the career, I loved what I did and did it well. I was successful and in return they stayed home and ate bon bons in bed in the middle of the day. Not a fair trade but they both did the laundry. I can count on both hands and maybe a foot how many loads of laundry I have done in 30 years. Sandra being an old-fashioned woman from S Philly even ironed the sheets and pillowcases. There is nothing quite like laying your head and body on crisp, ironed white sheets with a scent of lavender. My grandmother also from S Philly used to do the same as well as iron her son’s underwear when he lived with her. I guess it was a thing then. Sandra folded well and usually put things away. Blonde on the other hand, not so much. I had to refold every piece of clothing rolled up and arms of shirts hanging out. She had a habit of leaving clothes in the washer until I was missing something, and I would walk into the laundry room open the washer and the smell of old wet clothes, my clothes would hit me in the face. I finally stopped saying anything and just re washed. When she would put clothes in the dryer they sat until the wrinkles would not even come out with a hot iron. To this very day I am still missing clothes and white shirts she hung are still hanging a year later. Perhaps it’s time to throw them away.
She did the same thing with the dishwasher, everything shoved in and me being a bit OCD would re arrange everything neatly then turn it on. The next day I would open it and find dirty dishes. WTF I would ask myself. She would say they didn’t come clean, so they needed to be re washed. She hated emptying the dishwasher and the times she did she always left the silver ware for me to put in the draw inches from the dishwasher. I don’t know, I never figured her out other than she was just lazy?
For as long as I can remember we had a housekeeper. Those were the best and worst days. Bad when they wanted to arrive at 8am and stay the day. Worse when they had no transportation and I needed to pick them up and return them home in the dead of winter. Worse was when they did not take checks because they did not have an account and I never had the exact amount, so they almost always got $10 to $20 more. Worse was Diane, who I adored a younger woman of color got arrested and I needed to go to the county jail at 2am to bail her out. Not my first intention but Sandra did not give me an option. Diane was family. She’d spend the entire day cleaning a 1100 sqft cottage. Nothing really got cleaned but I did love having her around most of the time. I would find her asleep in the middle of the day in the comfy fireside chair. Diane was a bit on the slow side, heart of gold but you could smell the Cepacol mouthwash on her breath as soon as she was in your space, always trying to cover up the alcohol at 8am. I would find her at the kitchen counter mid-day reading one of those little books with Forrest Gumpisms, I would say “Diane, you can have it, take it home and read it at your leisure” Her response was priceless, “it’s ok Miss Lisa, I am on chapter 4, only 6 more left”. There was also the time I found my $40 bottle of Crown empty in the liquor cabinet. She of course denied it and said she was a vodka drinker until the night of Christmas Eve and she was serving and cleaning up, well, actually, she was fast asleep in her uniform in that fireside chair. I woke her and asked her if she would like to join me for a Christmas nightcap. I went to pour her a vodka and she said “no Miss Lisa, I will have what you are drinking” Busted, but I could never let her go. One day she called me into the bedroom, and she had 6 one-hundred-dollar bills in her hand. She found them stuffed in a decorative pillow when shaking it out. Turns out Sandra had put the cash she was given in that pillow some 6 months earlier and told me she spent it but forgot where she put it. Diane could be trusted until the drugs took hold, and she could not be trusted anymore. It was years later when I heard she had died. Way too young, I was very sad and miss her to this day. There was only one other American who cleaned for us, she was a blonde recommended by a friend. On her very first day we had another woman of color in the house making window treatments for our business. She made a racist comment about her, and I showed her the door in minutes. That was that.
No more American housekeepers,from then on they were all from Brazil. We went through quite a few, difficult with the language barrier, I was no longer offering cash, I felt they could have an account, their own transportation and of course had to love dogs. I don’t remember how I met Zelia, she was very serious, she lived a few blocks away and she became like family after a while. She stayed for years the only issue was when she would leave for home for over a month twice a year. I could not manage to be without her, she came every week, and we had a small 2-bedroom cottage. She would send a fill in, but they were never as good and I was always so excited to see her upon her return. When the RE market crashed, she was the first that was cut from my budget. I could not justify paying someone to clean the house when I had a very able woman who could do it while I dialed for dollars trying to find business. Once the market returned, she was the first call I made but she was booked so I went without for a while. It was years before I would see her again.
After Sandra moved out, my house was literally a disaster as was I. I just could not get a grip on my responsibilities. All I really did for 30 years was work and sign checks. Everything else was foreign to me and the house looked like a hurricane had run through. It was around that time I saw Zelia walking by my townhouse, she asked to come it to say high and was shocked by the condition of my once beautiful, put together home. You could barely walk into the laundry room; I had not done laundry in a long time. I barely left the house. Sandra left because our 20 years had run its course. The only thing we shared was time and the love of a few dogs. She was convinced I was cheating so gave me permission to sleep with blonde but stay together. She knew I was lacking, and the 20-year age difference had finally caught up to us as we said it would 20 years earlier. Do whatever you want with whoever you want but that was not something I could do and have never done; I had not been in love with her for quite a few years and I knew I would fall hard for blonde. I did not expect it to start going south as soon as I found myself alone. Not only was there my mess, but the mess left behind by Sandra moving out and taking half of the house with her. It took her 3 long months to finally leave but the troubles did not leave with her. You just don’t end a relationship with a woman after 20 years and expect to just move on with the next. She made sure I felt the pain she was feeling. I told Zelia what had been happening in my life since last we saw each other. Much to my surprise she asked why I had not done this years ago? She sat on the sofa where there was space amongst all the crap and said I needed help. She said she did not want to be paid she just wanted a full day or two with me staying away. She performed a miracle. She turned my shit shack into a home again. Some closets were even cleaned out to fit in things that needed a place. I literally cried when I walked in the door. I insisted she take the money I offered and begged her to come back next week and every week thereafter. She said no, she only wanted to clean the big antebellum homes owned by the wealthy folks, the same ones I had referred her years ago. She only needed to clean three a week and was fine. She sent me Maria a week later. She told Maria I needed special help and so it began. My relationship with Maria.
Maria did not speak English nearly as well as Zelia, we are still working through it 10 years later but yes, she does know every curse word and how and when to use them. She has been in this country for a long time and has not been home since. She has a young married daughter here but in Portugal is her oldest daughter she has not seen now in 20 + years as well as grandchildren she has never met. There is much more to Maria then just a woman who cleans my house. She is also a medium of sorts. The religion is of African roots combined with Catholicism called Umbanda, Maria is known as an Umbanda Practitioner not that she ever told me, but I Googled. Maria started to work here just as blonde was entering the picture.
At first blonde and Maria got along well. When blonde moved in, she was inconvenienced by the 8 am arrival which meant she would have to relocate to the upstairs guest room with Tyler where coffee and breakfast from her favorite French restaurant would be delivered by me. This happened very often and almost every Sunday for sure. She loved seeing what surprise would come in the little white bakery bag. Maria started to see the dynamics between us early on. There were times she would come and find me crying in my office after a big blow up and being up all night and wondering where blonde split to which she did often. Always to an expensive hotel she could not afford but this was a habit that started way before me. I used to call her the runner. Maria started to get involved slowly. She was becoming like a big sister to me. She genuinely cared not just for me but both of us. Blonde was convinced Maria did not like her because she was always friendlier to me. I would ask her what reason she gave Maria to be anything different, she barely spoke to her when she saw her. Maria felt she was cold and did not like her either. Truth be told, blonde wanted her to go from day one. I would tell her if she would clean the house with all her spare time, I would let her go but it would never last, and I will be out someone I trust.
Maria finally convinced me at a really bad time to visit her temple. She had begged me many times, but I told her I had a church and was a Christian with strong beliefs. She never told me much about her temple just I should go. I was so desperate to feel better and understand why I was going through such hell, so I went. It was not a temple, it was a space in a retail strip center. When I arrived, I was in bad shape, blurry eyes from crying and no sleep and hung over from medicating myself the night before. I just did not want to feel anymore, it hurt way too much, and my head was so jammed and confused by the behavior I had witnessed. Blonde was on her way to her brothers in Texas never to return. When I arrived, there was so much food, and everyone seemed to be expecting me. They kept trying to get me to eat but food was the furthest thing from my mind. Maria was not there yet but her friend who spoke English well, Claugeni and her rather large, cheery American husband Frank were in charge. Frank has since passed from Covid. They wanted no money, refused a donation and she referred to this place as a hospital to heal spirits. There was very little explanation as to what was going to happen next, I was impatient and could not stop crying. Next thing I know a line of women in white robes with wide belts and various patches come walking out chanting and spreading a cloud of incense around. There were other patients there, me the only non- Brazilian but they encircled me as if an exorcism was going to be performed to get the evil spirit known as blonde out of me. I was open to it. When the chanting stopped Maria waked by, I got up to hug her, but I was not allowed to approach her. I had no clue what her patch meant or what was going to happen next. I was told to go sit in an area alone and wait. Finally, I was escorted to the back of the building. I had to walk past pictures of God on the walls and some statue that seemed to be there for rituals and people would walk by and say Salve Deus meaning hail God, King of the Jews. To this day we often greet each other with that phrase even when she comes to clean. Once I was in the back it was dark with red lights lit throughout. Faces were hard to see, and I was waiting for an English translator. I was led to a large buxom woman in her garb sitting at a desk There were 6 women sitting at desks with a chair next to them for the patients and another in a robe standing behind to translate as well as instruct the medium on certain things to do. Once seated I was to open my hands out and whisper what I was feeling and wanted to know. I was crying so hard I could not speak. I just sat, shook, and held my hands out. I could feel her breath as we both had our eyes closed, I could feel her hands hovering over mine and the heat radiating form her hands calmed my shaking a bit. Next, I know she starts yelling and ranting in what seemed to be a foreign tongue, they were all going at the same time and I opened my eyes and looked around and saw Maria screaming like Linda Blair while pounding the hell out of her chest. I wanted someone to help her, I thought she was going to implode but my woman was yelling even louder as were the others. I was quickly instructed to close my eyes and put my hands back in position. The yelling started all over again and sometime someone would let out a blood curdling scream. I did for a minute or two get a little scared not knowing what was going to happen next but whatever it was had to be better than at home a couple of nights before. I trusted Maria but who I saw there was not the Maria I knew. This ritual went on for at least 10-15 minutes and my lady eventually let out a loud sigh, towards the end you could see and feel she was extracting something from your body. She then told the guy behind me what to say. She said God knew I loved blonde, and she said blonde loved me as well but the spirits in us from the past, dead people that possess us were at war with each other. She said she would be back, and I needed to pray very hard for her. I did not understand that and as much pain as I felt I was also angry and did not want to pray for her. When I finally left that room, I could barley breathe, I was inconsolable and just wanted to leave but I had 2 more rituals to go thru. One involved holy water and salt, the other was going around in a circle and have each medium pray over us. Once it was over, I was summoned to the main woman’s office. She sat me down and said the medium felt some very strong spirits and feelings in me. It was different then the others and thought I too possessed some intuitive strengths and wanted to enlist me to train with them. I spoke no language other than English, and I did not know if there was some catch to this, but I told her I would think on it. Next thing I am being led back into the dark room because my person was getting more signs from the beyond. I sat for what felt like and eternity and let her do her thing.
I could not address Maria, but I had to put our names on an index card to be shared with the top mediums in Brazil to pray for us.
Blonde did in fact come back when she tired of her brother and sister- in-law and their expectations of her. She was working because she could not let them see the real her and when she was tired of working 40 hours a week and could no longer keep up the façade, the good blonde came back. Maria was privy to a lot 2 Wednesdays a month. She would whisper to me and pray quietly while she was there. She told me she did not want me to know about her because she felt I would not understand and fire her, but she also reiterated she had always felt something different about me, so she finally felt safe to invite me. She would say every week, “Leeza, she loves you, she just doesn’t know it because her spirits are beating her and the only way for her to get better is for me to pray for her every day so my good spirits would fight off her bad spirits.” I bought this bull shit for as long as I could and eventually would argue with Maria saying it was not my job to kill her evil spirits she needed to do the work, she would get angry and argue with me, “No, you pray for her, you need to save her” I finally got blonde to agree to go, she obliged once, said she loved it but never would go back. I did go a few more times over the years even took my sister once. They eventually changed temples and took the front space of a yoga studio, and the rituals were a bit different.
The one thing I noticed over the years was the women were all very attractive in an odd sort of way, none beautiful, most older and heavy in size but something about their faces I always found soft and attractive. Maria spent the 2nd and 4th Wednesday of every month cleaning my house and trying to convince me it was up to me to make things change, I was the stronger of the 2 it was up to me. That was a burden that proved too much for me to bare. She would get angry and walk away talking under her breath. She came to clean a few days after we signed divorce papers and blonde took her stuff and left for Australia, again, never to return. Maria came and found the house very much the way Zelia had found it years earlier only worse. Blonde trashed the place and I, well I took most every picture of us in frames and shattered them on the floor. Where they landed was where they stayed until Maria cleaned them up. She held me while I cried and screamed in anger over what had happened. She now knew me well enough, and she would always call me boss, I called her boss too, she truly was the boss of this house 2 Wednesdays a month. She would say over and over “calm down” even when I was calm, even now when all is much better, she tells me to calm down. She would often go into the courtyard and clip leaves off the rosemary bush and put them in hot water and make me drink it while she watched. It was like drinking dirt and perfume mixed, it was awful and never really did anything. She would leave a glass of sugar and Epsom salt in the bathroom for me to bathe in, when she returned 2 weeks later it was still there, I did not bathe. She always had a concoction for me to drink and I did as she told me to do. Just another woman giving me orders and it was just easier to do as they said. She said blonde would be back from Australia and again she was right. I will never forget the day she saw here for the first time after being gone a few months. Blonde walked into the room and Maria took one look, laughed, and said, “you got so fat”. I could not help myself but to laugh, she did not mean it insulting but more endearing. Blonde was not happy, and my week was ruined. She wanted her gone. I explained when you return 30-40 lbs. heavier than you left it’s noticeable and she did not mean it to be hurtful, she was angrier I laughed. I paid for that for the next few weeks and no I did not let Maria go but the 2 barely crossed paths after that. Wednesdays were not pleasant until blonde finally got over herself.
Maria continued to clean, she broke an expensive bathroom mirror and denied it, it could have only been her and she was so angry I asked her about it she did not talk to me for about a month. Yes, she showed up just gave me the cold shoulder which was horrible. I thought about letting her go then but could not do it. I needed to be guaranteed 2 Wednesday a month my home would feel like a home. She changes the bed linens, cleaned out the refrigerator if needed, sweeps the courtyard on nice days and though I beg her not to go in my closet or touch my shoes, she does as she wants as if I never say anything. I have many pairs of shoes, some cost quite a bit and 3 pair were purchased in Italy, the leather is so soft you cannot squeeze them in a spot or worse, crush another pair on the top of them because I have less shoes space then shoes. I keep my everyday shoes and work out shoes on the floor with my bed slippers. Some shoes, not the good ones are doubled up in one space but the good ones each have their own space except for the 2nd and 4th Wednesday of each month it’s the same routine for me of re-doing what I ask her not to do. It has been 10 years of me asking nicely, even showing her how I like my bed made, she nods and makes it her lazy way every time and just acts as if it’s my way. That aggravates the hell out of me because when I go to bed that night I pretty much have to undo the entire bed in order to sleep comfortably.
Now that my sister lives here she has also noticed her lack of cleaning skills and looks at me on the second and fourth Tuesday of every month preparing for Maria’s arrival. Blonde could care less and would leave her shit all over for me to rush on Wednesday morning after tidying my crap up the night before. Everything must be in order. If dishes are left in the sink or drainboard good luck to ever find them again. I still have clothing items I have never found or a favorite coffee mug or that black vegetable peeler that has never shown up in the draw it had been in for years. She almost never cleans the front of the stainless-steel refrigerator or the microwave as my sister points out, she flies through the house if I am not home, she almost never leaves with just her check, she either has clothes, shoes, food or extra in her check for one reason or another. She only cleans the main floor of a 3-story home. 1 bedroom, 1 full bath, a half bath, LR, DR and Kitchen. We have so much more but I do not even go there with her. Last week she said “ Leeza, I need sheets for my bed, you give me sheets” I said no, I only have a few pair for my bed and I handed her an extra $50 cash to go buy herself a set of sheets. She adamantly refused she said” you have too many sheets want just one pair not the money but the sheets” Some years ago blonde bought out a dealer’s inventory to resell and it came with loads of high-end linens. I had a few sets for my bed, blonde took a lot with her then gave them away and the ton she left behind I practically gave away, all I have is what I need but because she goes in my draws, she sees I have more than one pair, so she wants the other. She regularly takes inventory and tells me I have too much. I tell her no, I have what I need, it may be more than you have because your needs are less. Over the years I have purged so much and will be purging even more. She has taken inventory of every inch I just hope she never opens the second nightstand draw where I keep my pajamas, I presume many of us women have a secret draw we would hate for our mothers to open but with Maria, I don’t really care. She is the big sister I have never had. She comes to me often for advice and I help the best I can. She is now in her 60’s, she is tired and works very hard. When I would hassle with blonde about getting a job or taking care of herself, I would bring up Maria, she lives alone with her 2 dogs, has a car payment, sends money back to her country, is paying a man way too much money for marrying her, works 6 days a week and can take care of herself yet blonde cold not and still can’t. After she left last year Maria predicted she would be back, I said no, not ever, not this time, she instructed me to pray for her, I raised my voice and yelled at her. She had hurt me so deeply I did not care if she ever got well, if the evil spirits ever left her body, I just did not care anymore and was not willing to waste anymore prayers on her. Who was praying for me, certainly not her? It was not until I finally showed Marie a photo of blonde and her new man together did, she realize it was over for good. She did not get it either like most anyone else. Even she asked “why, how could she do this Leeza?” as she made a disgusted face. For the first time she did not ask me to pray for her. She said, “I pray for you every day my boss, so you feel better. I ask God every day to look out and take care of you.” We don’t talk of blonde much anymore, occasionally, I will come across a new picture to show Maria how much she has changed and not for the better. She shakes her head and looks up and speaks in a language I don’t understand and tells me how much better off I am. She was thrilled when she thought I was in love again with the next big mistake, but she knows for now I am better off alone. We recently discussed me moving on and she does not want to hear anything about that and said I needed to stay here and can’t move away.
Me moving has nothing to do with the loss of earnings for her. It is me she will miss. She knows she is family and as long as I am around, she can count on me for anything. Well, except that time she asked me for $30k to put as a down payment on a new temple. I drew the line there. She is bossy, she shows up late every time she is due here, she does not clean the house well at all, but she loves me, she loves Steve and Tyler. She used to walk thru the door and the first things she would say is “where is she?”, now she calls for Tyler and Steve. She picks up after them and loves on them. She cares about my family and prays for them as well as me. I can trust her, and I know she would do anything for me in her power. No, the house is never really any cleaner when she leaves and now it smells of vinegar because she insists on doing the floors with it but the 2nd and 4th Wednesday of the month I love coming home. The house always looks good and makes me wonder what I should do moving forward. It really is the first time I love my home and she at least two times a month makes me look neat. No, she never goes in my office, a whole other story.
Salve Deus…
