Mr.Cater's Maid

Bad Advice

Even though the walk to the bus stop was a close one, I huffed and puffed as I slowly made my way to the main street by my house. This was the first day after months of sitting in front of the TV, I went outside the house, and the heat was a real challenge.

The bus took more than half an hour to arrive. I impatiently switched the weight from my right leg to my left as I waited. Finally, when the bus arrived, I got on. I found the first and closest seat before the bus started moving faster. The pocketbook I was carrying on my left side was making me sway unevenly. Once I sat down I realized, I was exhausted. How was I going to work all summer when I couldn't even wait for a bus?

My mother was a housemaid for the wealthy and snobby Carter family. She worked there for more than 20 years. She cooked, cleaned, and did everything else in between. The lady of the house...or rather mansion...was wholly dependent on my mother. If she could ask my mother to wipe her ass after shitting, she would. My mother leveraged this power to get me a job.

I, Diya Kara, will be maid to Mrs. Carter's stepson Adam Carter. Hurray for me! I wanted to argue with my mother, who did not ask me before she got me this job. However, since I quit school a few months ago and was now living at the mercy of my parents, I had no choice. You don't get to quit a 5-year Pre-Med program your last year and get away with it. Not in an Indian immigrant family.

So my mom made a deal, after fighting and crying with me for 2 whole months, that I would work if I lived in her house and found a path forward. If it wasn't a doctor, it had to be something else. No daughter of Mrs.Rhea Kapoor was going to be a bum.

Today, along with starting my new job as Mr.Carter's maid, I will find details about an apprenticeship with someone Mrs.Carter knew. As far as I knew, this lady owned an event planning business and needed help with small errands. At this point, though, It didn't matter what I did. I would have taken any job if it meant I didn't have to go to med school.

The bus screeched to a stop a few blocks away from the Carter's mansion, and the walk was, well, no walk in the park. The July heat was at its strongest, and I was back to huffing and puffing. My face was turning red, and tiny beads of sweat were starting to form on my forehead. How did I become this unhealthy? I was proof that even though I was what people would classify as skinny, it did not mean I was healthy.

Finally, after 20 mins of walking, I reached a cast-iron gate behind which I could only see a long driveway. I did, however, know what was hiding behind it, seeing as I grew up in this house. I would come here every day after school. The Carter's daughter, Megan, and I used to be close friends when we were in high school together, but then I found out she kept me around because she felt bad for me as I wasn't as rich as her. Also, she would only invite me to some parties and hang out with our "friends" without me. So I was pretty much just her charity case. I still kept up the pretense, though, because I needed friends, but all that stopped when she moved to Australia for school.

I pressed the gray button on a box that was sitting right in front of the gate.

"Hello," my mother's voice projected out of the speakers.

"Mom, I am here," I said, not letting go of the button.

"Your late Diya, you were supposed to be here before 12."

"Sorry, the bus was running late." I lied. The truth was my mom told me to leave the house at 10, but I overslept.

"Come in." She barked, and then the gate screeched open.

I walked up the long tar road as the white mansion slowly came into view. It towered over me as I got closer, making me feel small and like I had made a wrong turn to get here. This place never felt welcoming, more so than ever today.