“Mother, we are going to have company today, isn’t that wonderful?”
“I don’t want any goddam company!”
“Now, mother we’ve talked about this. I need help around the house, and we need to have someone here if I have to go out on errands.”
“What am I, a fucking dog? You think I need a babysitter. Some one to clean up my shit and piss?”
“All I’m saying is let’s give this girl a chance. We can talk to her, get to know her. You might even like her… stranger things have happened.”
“What was that last thing you said! Stop mumbling, speak up dammit!”
Stacie had called about the caregiver job earlier that morning, talking with Claire Mason who posted the ad. The job was only for three days a week, from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. The candidate was to be a companion for Claire’s mother-in-law Beatrice, who had recently broke a hip and was convalescing at her son and daughter-in-law’s home.
The recovery time, according to her doctors, was to be only a few weeks, plus two to three months of physical therapy. Beatrice had been a fixture in Clair’s guest room for the past six months, and was showing no signs of leaving. She had ensconced herself in the house and was making it her role in life is to make Claire miserable. That, and to rescue her son, Philip, from what she considers a bad marriage.
It was Philip’s idea to hire a part-time helper for Claire. He was worried that the extra work of having to tend to his mother was too much for her. That the stress was making her overly sensitive and that she took some things his mother might say the wrong way. She was on her best behavior when he was home, saving her ire for when he was at work.
Claire hoped that if she had someone else around, Beatrice would let up on her criticisms and bullying, she really just wanted the old bitch out of her house.
Beatrice was in the family room, watching Dr. Phil with Stacie arrived. Claire welcomed her and invited her into the kitchen. Over coffee and scones, Claire outlined the duties and hours the job would involve. Her salary was more than generous for what she would be expected to do.
Claire explained Beatrice’s physical limitations, but assured Stacie that she had all her mental facilities. The majority of Stacie’s job would involve waiting on Beatrice, and light house work for Claire. There would be times when all that was expected was for Stacie to just serve as a companion while Claire was away from the house.
Stacie grinned. This was basically a glorified babysitting job, without having to change diapers or entertain bratty kids.
The last thing was to meet Beatrice. Claire dreaded this part. Stacie was the seventh candidate she had interviewed. After each previous one had met her mother-in-law that was the last she had seen of them. This time she took a different approach.
“I’m going to be completely honest with you. Beatrice can be, well, difficult to deal with.”
“Is she violent? Do I have to worry about her trying to hurt me?”
“No, nothing like that. She’s just unpleasant, and can be extremely hateful. She especially dislikes me, and is very resistant to hiring someone else to come in to help me. She can be verbally abusive, but she is not physically dangerous.”
“Verbally abusive? What sort of things does she say?”
“It’s mostly swearing, using the most vile language and name calling. It can be relentless. She will find fault in everything you do, and figure out your sore button spots and push them whenever she can.”
Stacie almost laughed. Her grannie had a mouth on her that could peel paint, and aimed that lethal weapon at anyone who got in her sights. It didn’t matter if it as her husband, her children or their spouses, or even her grandchildren. Stacie was first called a bitch by her grannie a the tender age of three. Grannie’s tirades were teh joke of the family, and no one took her seriously. A few swear words didn’t scare Stacie.
“Can I answer her back using the same sort of language?”
Claire sat back in her chair, blinking, not able to form an answer to Stacie’s question. The idea of standing up to Beatrice, using her own words against her, had never occurred to her. Philip was so soft spoken, never raise his voice, and she had not once heard him say a coarse word. Even at her worst, he hadn’t responded in kind to her.
They didn’t have children. Claire couldn’t say what would happen if her mother-in-law turned her venom on them. The idea of fighting fire with fire was very attractive.
“I’ve actually never considered it. I don’t know.”
“My grannie could swear a blue streak, so I am used to it. They’re just words, it won’t bother me. Besides, I don’t think your mother-on-law can compete with Grannie. She could make a rock blush. I bet she knows words you’ve never heard of, so maybe I can teach Beatrice a thing or two.”
Claire could picture Beatrice’s reaction if Stacie didn’t cower from her abuse, but gave back as good as she got. It sent a thrill through her veins, and she made a decision riht then. She hoped Philip would understand.
“Yes, you can, but I can’t stand yelling. Beatrice may be horrible, but at least she doesn’t yell. I think part of her power is simply speaking in a normal-range voice. It’s very disturbing.”
“Oh, don’t worry. There won’t be any shouting matches. If I learned anything from Grannie, it’s that a well turned phrase is much more effective if you aren’t screaming. It’s more menacing to be quiet and calm.”
“That’s the word, ‘menacing.’ It’s about to shatter my nerves. I don’t know now much longer I can take it. I may have to give Philip an ultimatum. Either Beatrice or me.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to do that. I’ve found that when you stand up to a bully, they aren’t so tough after all. Sounds like your mother-in-law is a bully who’s never had anyone call her bluff.”
Claire felt like a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders. Stacie seemed heaven sent, hopefully with some luck, Beatrice will have met her match and be out of the house soon.
She still needed to go through the right steps, but didn’t want to lose Stacie to someone else.
“I need to check your references, Philip will insist, but I think you would be a perfect fit. How soon could you start?”
Stacie pulled a single-spaced typed piece of paper out of her every-present tote and handed it to Claire. A list of previous employers and personal references who offered to put a good word in for her on job applications. While Claire was looking over the list of names and telephone numbers, Stacie took something else out of her bag, slipping it into her jacket pocket.
“I totally understand, but I think you’ll find my references are excellent. And, I can start as soon as you’d like.”
“That is great! Let’s go meet Beatrice, then you can let me know if you still want to job.”
Claire led Stacie into the living room, patiently waiting until her show broke for a commercial. Stacie, looking to Claire then to Beatrice, simply walked over and stood between the older woman and the television, her arms crossed and a smile on her face.
Beatrice tried to look around Stacie without actually acknowledging her presence. When it became clear Stacie wasn’t moving, she fixed her steely gaze on her thinking she would flinch under the weight like Claire did.
Faced with the smiling Stacie, Beatrice almost broke her stare, but instead brought out her arsenal of swear words.
“Who the fuck are you, and why are you standing there like a goddam idiot?”
“Good morning Mrs. Mason, I’m Stacie Barlow and I’m going to be working with Claire a few days a week. I thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to meet, and come to an understanding.”
“Understand this,” Beatrice threw out her right hand, her middle finger sticking up.
Stacie began to laugh. A full belly laugh, not the feigned chuckle parents do when their misbehaving child manages to use a swear word or obscene gesture in the proper context.
“Is that the best you’ve got?”
Beatrice’s scowl frozen on her face, her hand still raised toward Stacie. She looked briefly to Claire, who was unsuccessfully hiding a big grin behind her hand.
“Let’s get one thing understood right now,” Stacie took two steps toward Beatrice who had dropped her hand and sat back in her recliner. Her scowl now a confused frown.
“My job is to help Claire, and that means babysitting you. If you insist on acting like a spoiled brat, that’s how I’ll treat you. If you insist on trying to shock or intimidate me with a bunch of swear words, you’re in for a serious disappointment. I can give as good as I get, we clear?”
“You don’t scare me you fucking bitch!”
“I’m intention is not to scare you, it’s to let you know I will not allow you to threaten me.”
Beatrice looked back toward Claire, pulling herself up in her chair.
“You’ll be sorry you did this! Philip won’t stand for this kind of treatment of me.”
“Philip is as tired of your hateful attitude as I am. He told me to do whatever I needed to get help dealing with you. If you don’t like this new development, you are free to move back to your condo at any time. I’ll even help you pack.”
“I’m not going anywhere, you stupid bitch. If you think you or your pit bull can make me leave you’re wrong. She won’t be here all the time and if you think I was bad before you’ve not seen anything yet.”
Stacie walked over to Claire, her smile never once leaving her face.
“Claire has told me that you don’t act this bad around Philip, that you are trying to get him to believe your abuse is all in her head. I’m here to also be a witness for Claire.”
“He won’t believe you any more than he does her. I’m his mother.”
Stacie reached into her jacket pocket pulling out a slender silver object, and held it up to Beatrice.
“Do you know what is this is?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“This is Claire’s insurance policy. You see, now Philip won’t have to decide who he believes. He can hear for himself how vile you are toward his wife, how horribly you treat her and how meekly she responds to your tirades.”
“What are you talking about?”
Stacie pushed a small red button on the front of the object and soon Beatrice could hear her own voice, swearing at Claire and Stacie. Threatening and taunting her daughter-in-law.
‘It’s a digital recorder and it’s been on since I walked into this room. Philip will hear exactly how to speak to Claire and how you treat her. He’ll also hear that she never speaks to you the same way.”
Gently taking Claire’s arm, Stacie led her back into the kitchen.
“I’ll leave this with you. Don’t be afraid to use it if you have to. I can start at 8 a.m. tomorrow. Please go ahead and check my references, but I’ll be here as scheduled unless you call me.”
Claire took the recorder, feeling more calm than she had in weeks.
“I don’t know what to say, but thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet, I have a feeling it might be worse before it gets better. At least she knows now that you’ve got an ally.”
Stacie grabbed her tote and left Claire, hoping that she would be okay until her husband arrive home from work. She was actually looking forward to this job. She felt that she could help Claire reclaim her home and maybe have an influence on the old woman too.
She was feeling so good, that when she stopped for gas at the station down the road from her apartment, she used her lucky dollar from the Laundromat to buy a scratch off lottery ticket.
Who knows, she may have found her life’s calling and became a millionaire all on the same day.
