Page 45 of Maid in America

As some of the strangers reluctantly filtered out the front door, Sherri scrambled through her purse and found her phone. She dialed, tapping a long, beige nail against her pursed lip.

Finally, the person on the other end picked up.

“Yes, hi, Mr. Jessup. I need your services.”

A young, shirtless man smiled at her, and she shooed him away angrily.

“I’m afraid it can’t wait. Tomorrow, my husband is coming back from a work trip to Canada to celebrate his birthday, and tonight, my idiot son decided to throw a fuckingrager.”

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Barrett’s truck rumbled intothe driveway. Sherri Nussbaum’s long legs carried her briskly toward him as he killed the engine and grabbed a bag containing the same pleather Roman gladiator costume he’d cleaned a home in just a few hours before.

“Oh, thank God, you’re here.” Sherri placed an icy hand on his forearm and pulled him toward her home, cleavage bouncing above her oval neckline.

“I assume you’re Mrs. Nussbaum?”

The woman nodded. At the door, she released him. “Start wherever you want and do me a favor. Don’t wear any silly costumes right now. My dip-shit son is in there somewhere, and I don’t need him using it as some weird form of blackmail against me down the line.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. I wore it this afternoon. It hasn’t been laundered yet.”

“Well, at leastoneof us is relieved.” She rolled her eyes.

“With all due respect, why call for me, then?”

“Excuse me? I don’t follow.” She crossed her bony arms across her silicone bosom.

“I just meant,Man Maidcharges more than mostbecauseof the costumes? Why not just hire a regular cleaning service and save the money?”

She stepped toward him threateningly despite her calmer tone. “Will Jessup has been cleaning this house for a year-and-a-half now, and he does a damn fine job, a lot better than any service we’ve hired before. We used to hire some Mexicans to do it. Caught one of them robbing our DVD shelves blind, helping herself to a couple of movies every time. When we fired them, they went to the Tribune and made up a nasty bit of news about my husband.”

“I see,” Barrett rubbed his bottom lip.

“Will has a business founded ondiscretion. It’s a huge part of the whole schtick. So, I called him, and he sent you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have this place spic-and-span right away, Mrs. Nussbaum.”

“I know you will. I’ll throw in a cash tip if you keep the volume down. I got a splitting headache from screaming at those damned kids.”

She started to walk past the pool table, looked down at a stain on the felt, and winced. She turned back to Barrett. “If you see any stragglers, tell them not to let that front door hit ’em where the good Lord split ’em on their way out.”

“Sure thing.”

“God, my head ispounding,” Sherri muttered again.

“Here,” he said, digging in his bag and pulling two pills from a small container. “Will keeps an emergency stash of ibuprofen inthe bags for our aches and pains. Being on your knees a lot can be painful.”

She took the pills and motioned all around, scoffing. “I know. How do you think I ended up with all of this?”

He tossed the pills in her mouth and winked. Barrett was relieved to see she actually had a sense of humor, after all.

She threw her head back violently and attempted to dry-swallow. She winced hard and fanned herself, frantically looking around for a drink to help the pills go down. Panicked, she looked at one of the solo cups on the edge of her billiard table, sniffed it, and took a swig out of the mysterious liquid with reluctance.

“Oh God, I hate when that happens! Ugh.” She looked down at the stranger’s cup and feigned gagging. Then, she turned back to Barrett.

“There’s a box of trash bags on the bottom of the stairs for all this garbage. Mops are in the kitchen pantry. Sponges are under the sink. I’ll be in my studio if you need anything, although I doubt yoga is going to undo all of this.” She motioned to her head and disappeared through an archway.

Barrett stood for a moment, struggling to take it all in. The Nussbaum’s massive mansion screamed decadence behind all of the fraternity-esque trash.

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