Friday 24 June 2016

The guest room

Michelle,

Hello, how are you love? Are you well? I'm doing okay, maybe a little bit tired. My knee hurts. I will have the operation in June. As for you...I seriously hope you still going back to the school as we talked about. Education is very important in today's world.

It has been a very busy week for me. Ms Carrie has finished renovating the front living room. New furniture, new paint on the walls and brand new rugs. All very expensive. For three weeks we have had the workmen here wearing plastic booties and working quietly like little mice. Ms Carrie does not like the noise or dust of the renovations. She says it gives her headaches. I always say to her, "Why don't you go away? Somewhere nice, while the work is being done". But she says "No. No, I can not! I much keep an eye on the house." There is no winning with Ms Carrie when she is like this. She makes her own stress and suffering when she does not need to. Sometimes where people do not have pain they will make their own.

Anyway, the work is finished now which is good. Peace has returned.The room is very beautiful..not that she will ever go in there. In this house, she only sits in the kitchen with me or in her bedroom, maybe sometimes in the small study room. As you know, most of this house is empty & no one goes in the grannie flat anymore.

Mr Geoff, the interior designer, calls her 'Scary Carrie' or sometimes even 'Hari Kari' when she is in her moods. But only behind her back. He is homosekswal. He was also coming over for the past three weeks with his young boyfriend Jerome. (Jerome is too young if you ask me). Together they are very mean and naughty but also funny. Like bored ladies in a hair salon. Mr Geoff is always arguing with Ms Carrie. Arguing, storming off but then eventually making-up. Then again, the next day: arguing, storming off followed making-up. Drama, drama and more drama.

Next month the interior designers will come back and do the upstairs guest room. Personally, I think this is another waste of money. The guest room is already very nice. It does not need to be changed. Anyway, this is not my business. I have lost count how many times the house has been renovated. How many different times the rooms have looked like Paris. Or an opium den. Or a seaside beach house. Or a ski chalet. Or 'cold modernism', when Ms Carrie was going through her 'minimalist' phase.

Mr Steven has also come around many times. He is always coming around when Ms Carrie is starting a new renovations project. You would think all those expensive private schools would have made a polite gentleman out of him. This is not what happened. He has become a terrible man. He is very rude and greedy. Ms Carrie's only son and I do not think she likes him very much. Of course, he comes around to argue with Ms Carrie about money. Money, money, money. He thinks his trust fund is not enough. I know for sure he has made many stupid mistakes with investments. Despite this, he thinks of himself as a high flyer.

He calls me the 'domestic witch' to my face because I am giving Ms Carrie advice for all her problems. I am the one she talks to when the world is becoming too much. He said to me yesterday, "Don't think there is going to be a huge pay out at the end of this. You are still an employee here". Mr Stephen and his sister Carmella, they know Ms Carrie has made concessions for me in the will. After 30 years of service, this is the right thing to do. I was the one who raised Mr Stephen and Ms Carmella. I looked after them when Ms Carrie disappeared for two years. Then when she was in the hospital.

It was very sad. Mr Stephens was standing in the driveway pointing his finger at me with a nasty smile, saying "Don't think the will can't be changed". I can smell the pub on his breath. I see the dent in his fancy car. He is not who he thinks he is. Who he pretends to be. I still see him as a little boy, running from his bath with a shiny bare bottom. He does not scare me. It is the same as with a house. If you build a man on the foundation of a weak, scared little boy, you will end up with a weak, scared man. I am saying to him, "I am the one who takes care of Ms Carrie during her bad days. Where are you? I am the one who is administering the drug to calm. I close the open window and hide the car keys when she wants to leave. I lock her in the guest room when she is unhappy. To sleep. To shout at the patterns in the wallpaper. I am the one who protects her from the bad doctors and shareholders and bad investments. Bad investments like you! (I do not say this aloud because there is no point adding gasoline to the flames). I am the one who is sitting with her out in the garden all day and sometimes all night." I am saying to him, "Where are you, Mr Stephen? In Bali? Or Byron Bay? Or in Europe being Mr Playboy? You are always busy in the bad times and a regular visitor in the good times."

He is saying back to me, "You have outstayed you're welcome. You need to go back to whatever shitty little island you came from". I just laugh inside, thinking in my mind, he is still a spoiled little boy. A weak, scared little boy grown up into a weak and scared man. I laugh when I think about how long he would last walking around in San Andres. Maybe less than 20 minutes?

I will come home one day with the money Ms Carrie has said is mine. Then I will start a new negros yo. As you know, this is my dream. A nice business so I can be close to my family. I must go now. Ms Carrie is calling me. We will go to meet Mr Geoff to talk about the guest room. We will talk about the throw cushions, the new rugs, the furniture. Of course there will be no glass, cords and heavy objects for throwing. Everything must be bolted down. Ms Carrie is talking about South Western style like a cowboy ranch. When Mr Geoff and Jerome talked about this last week, they both laughed and said they like to go to "dude ranches". They are very naughty. Anyway, I must go. There is so much to do. Mr Carrie will need her medication for the afternoon. I will speak to you later.

Lahat ng aking pag-ibig,

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