Hot Mess (2 page)

When the bell rang, children came spilling out of the school doors, frazzled teachers in tow, trying in vain to keep the children corralled. They had the daunting task of safely delivering each child to a waiting vehicle. Sam didn't envy them that.

Spotting Amanda, he went down on one knee and held his arms out for her. Cooly, she hugged him, pulling away before he had a chance to kiss her cheek. So he ruffled her hair instead.

"Did you have a good day?"

She shrugged, and Sam looked around for her teacher.

Deciding he didn't want another confrontation, he grabbed his daughter's backpack and lunch kit in one hand and grasped her shoulder with the other. He led her across the parking lot and drove her home, his mind simultaneously fuming at the principal and daydreaming about the woman in the car.

There was a blond woman sitting on the steps when Sam pulled into the driveway.

"You must be Brenda." Sam extended a hand, smiling.

She grasped it, her handshake firm. "Yeah, I'm sorry I'm early. I hate to be late. Consequently, I'm chronically early. Everywhere." She laughed nervously.

Sam studied the woman. Tall, bleached hair, nice figure, green eyes, too much perfume, and khaki pants and polo shirt. The beginnings of crow's feet around the edges of her eyes told him she was probably in her mid to late thirties.

"Um, if you need me to come back later, I can." She wrung her hands together, while her eyes scanned his body. He ignored her perusal, needing to keep this professional.

"No. That's okay. Come on inside. Let me get Amanda settled, and we can do the interview." Assuming the boss interview mentality, he led Brenda inside. Amanda followed sullenly. Sam sent Amanda to her room to do her homework, before going to the kitchen to grab a package of cookies and some milk to take to her.

"Dad?" She looked up at him, her face holding sadness a little girl her age shouldn't know.

"Yeah, sweetie?" He went down on one knee next to his daughter, eager to connect.

"Do I get to say if we hire her? I'm the one who'll end up spending the most time with her." Her round brown eyes looked at him beseechingly, full of unshed grief, tearing the hole in his heart a little bit wider.

"Sure, babe. Just give me a little while with her first, okay? Do your math, and then you can come out and ask her whatever questions you want. Deal?" He hoped this woman would work out. He didn't have a lot of other options.

"Deal." The corners of her mouth curled up slightly, and Sam was grateful for whatever he could get.

Brenda was at the kitchen table, toying with a glass of water.

"I fixed myself some water. I hope that's okay."

Sam sat across from her. "Sure. Do you want anything else? I have more junk food than anybody should have a right to in this kitchen." He gestured magnanimously.

Brenda giggled. "No, I'm good."

"Okay, then here's the deal. I need somebody to pick up and drop my daughter off at school and spend the nights here while I go to work. We don't have local family, and since I'm new here, I haven't met any friends that I can impose on for this. I can't pay much, but you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and if you want something special, just make me a list and I'll buy it for you. Amanda is pretty self-sufficient for her age, but she's ten, which is too young to stay at home by herself for days at a time. Any questions about that?"

"Will there be any nights off?" Brenda asked him.

He took a deep breath. This was where they tended to waffle. "I work forty-eight hours on, and forty-eight off. I will also be on call a lot, so you'll need to come over at the spur of the moment sometimes."

Brenda's gaze strayed from his eyes to his lips, and he hoped this wasn't going to be an uncomfortable situation. But he was desperate, and felt a disquieting relief when she nodded. "Sounds good."

"Good. Now. You said you had sat with the elderly before, this probably isn't much different, except there will be fewer medicines to take." He was planning to give Brenda the paltry sum he could afford to pay her, when Amanda cleared her throat. Maybe he should let them meet before she found out she'd be working for peanuts. Hopefully Amanda could work some charm on her.

"Here's Amanda. She wanted to meet you. Come here, Punkin." Amanda walked over, shyly, studying the woman intently.

"Hello, Amanda. My name's Brenda. Hopefully, we'll be spending some time together, right?"

Amanda's eyelids lowered slightly. "Maybe. I have some questions for you."

Brenda looked surprised, then looked at Sam, who shrugged good-naturedly.

"Okay. What questions do you have for me, Sugar?"

Amanda thought for a minute, then started with, "What's your favorite color?"

"Pink." Brenda answered without thinking about it.

"Okay. How old are you?"

"Thirty-four." Brenda was less forthcoming with that answer, and Sam wondered if she was going to hold his daughter's questions against him.

"Hmmm…" The girl seemed to be pondering that answer, but eventually she asked the next one. "When's your birthday?"

"January fifteenth." Again, the answer was automatic.

"So you just turned thirty-four?" She sounded hopeful, for some reason.

"Yes."

That seemed to satisfy the age question, so Amanda moved on to her next one. "What's your favorite TV show?"

Brenda appeared to think a minute. "Now, that's a hard one. I like a bunch of them. Big Bang Theory, and Johnny Test are probably my favorites."

"Johnny Test is a cartoon." Amanda said simply, as if Brenda were stupid.

"I know, but his sisters crack me up. Those kids and their inventions." Sam appreciated the humor that Brenda was exhibiting and began to feel a little better about her.

Amanda smiled at Brenda and stood up to leave. At the door, she turned and winked at her dad. He took that as a good sign.

Sam turned to Brenda, telling her the miniscule amount he could afford to pay her. "What do you think?"

"She's sweet, and I need a job. You seem like a good guy to work for." She turned her water glass in circles before finally looking up at him and smiling. "What do
you
think?"

Sam smiled at her. "You're hired. Can you start Sunday? That's my first night, but if you want to start Saturday, so you can get the feel for the routine, then that would be fine, too."

Brenda stood, "Cool. I'll be by Saturday. Eight o'clock? Is that right?"

"A quarter 'till. I need to be at the station by eight. And then I'll be home by eight-fifteen in the mornings. Okay?"

From Remainingrachel.com

What now?

I get all kinds of questions from people who have just learned that a loved was diagnosed with HIV or AIDS, and they want me to tell them what to do. I will try to answer this in a blog post, as to save time and effort for all involved.

The absolute first thing to do is to continue to love and support your loved one as much as possible. They are still the same exact person they were prior to diagnosis. Continue your relationship with them as if nothing has changed, unless of course, it's a sexual relationship, then do a little thinking first.

Second, educate yourself. I guarantee you there are things about the health condition that you don't know, and your loved one will get enough people telling them what to do based on false preconceptions without you adding to the hubbub. Check out my Frequently Asked and Resources pages. It won't hurt you any to be educated. That way, when your loved one needs help, you can actually have an educated opinion.

Third, don't force your attentions on them, unless they seem to be a danger to themselves. Getting the news is a shock, and lots of people spend some time grieving for the life they think they've lost. You need to let them go through those stages on their own. Then they will be in a better place. This goes back to the first item, be supportive, not destructive.

Above all…

"Mom!" Sophia shouted, scaring the life out of Rachel, who had been in the middle of the blog post she'd been putting off all day.

"Honey, you don't have to shout at me. I'm sitting right here. What?" She had to smile at her daughter's excitement. Sophia was bouncing on the balls of her feet with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, the nine-year old tried to contain her excitement. "We have a new neighbor! And she lives across the street. Can she come over to play? Please?"

"Are her parents home?" Rachel tried to meet the parents of each child that Sophia played with.

"Her dad is, but he's taking a nap. He works tonight. Can she come over to play? Please?"

"Of course. As long as her dad knows where to find her when he wakes up." So many parents had jobs at the prisons system near here, and they worked strange shifts. Rachel considered herself lucky to have a decent job from home.

Sophia squealed in delight, before turning to run outside and bring in her new playmate. Rachel could hear two girls pound down the hallway to Sophia's room and slam the door.

Chuckling to herself, she returned to her blog, eager to finish so she could start dinner. She had been busy with a client online most of the day and hadn't gotten to the blog post yet. Her advertisers stipulated that she blog a certain number of times a week, and Rachel was behind.

Thirty minutes later, she sighed with satisfaction and closed the lid of her laptop for the day. She could hear giggling come from behind Sophia's door, so she walked down the hall to meet the new girl.

She opened the door to find Sophia, with her long, brown braids, chattering with excitement, and a lovely looking waif of a girl, with wide blue eyes and blond hair cut into a short pageboy style.

Rachel flashed a welcoming smile. "Hello, I'm Sophie's mother Rachel Fairchild. What's your name, sweetie?" She wasn't a stickler for being called Ms. Fairchild, but some parents were, so she gave the child her whole name in case her parents insisted she be formal.

The little girl's eyes widened even further, turning down at the edges, and Rachel could see something alarmingly adult in them, a sadness that tugged at Rachel's heart. She felt an urge to hug the child, but sensed that wouldn't be welcome, so she extended her hand instead.

"Amanda Owens, ma'am." The little girl accepted Rachel's extended hand, solemnly.

"Will you stay for dinner? I'm fixing to start lasagna." Rachel said hopefully. If her dad was still sleeping, who knew when or what Amanda would eat.

"Okay," the girl replied.

"What have y'all gotten into?" Rachel noticed her jewelry scattered all over the bedroom floor. She didn't mind. None of it was fancy, and she let Sophia play in the box all the time. "You guys will pick it up when you’re finished, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girls replied, dutifully.

"Good. I'm going to go start dinner." She shut the door, and went to the kitchen, wondering about Amanda Owens and glad that Sophie had found her. Sophia, like Rachel, felt a calling to help people in pain. She had cried during the Hunchback of
Notre Dame
, because poor Quasi didn't get the girl in the end. Rachel felt disappointment, as well, but it didn’t affect her nearly as much as Sophia. The child had cried foul to everybody who would listen in the video store when they'd returned the movie.

Rachel browned the hamburger meat, chopped garlic, and made the sauce, before she assembled the lasagna and put it into the oven. She was pulling salad stuff out of the fridge, when a frantic banging on her front door interrupted her.

She had to suck in a hard breath when she opened the door to the most beautiful man she had seen in a long time. Tall, broad shoulders, huge biceps stretching his sweater tautly across his shoulders, muscled thighs that made his worn jeans fit snugly, familiar brown boots. It was the cocky guy from school, and he was standing here, on her porch, looking so…worried?

His hair stuck up wildly, and his penetrating blue eyes held lines of anxiety.

"Can I help you?" She asked, as mildly as she could with her heart pounding in her chest.

"I'm new in the neighborhood, and I seem to have lost my daughter. I fell asleep, I've been trying to get used to a new schedule for work…Have you seen a little girl, nine years old, with short blond hair? She's wearing…" He ran his hand through his hair, as if trying to remember what his daughter was wearing. Rachel stopped him.

Rachel empathized with the man's plight, nobody liked losing their child, no matter how short-lived the loss may be. "Amanda is here. I have a daughter, too. They're playing. I'm sorry, she didn't tell you where she was?"

His shoulders sagged in relief, and his eyes relaxed. A shuddering sigh escaped him, and Rachel felt his stress level decline. She had been watching this man for a week, while she waited to pick up Sophia, and he had always exuded confidence, self-assuredness, cockiness. She smiled slightly as she remembered him showing off his spectacular butt last Monday. But this man in front of her now was none of those things. He was a frightened dad.