What's Said in Silence

Vessel- I

The phrase 'Time is money' had never truly resonated with me. Time was a fleeting, precious thing that was often used as a transactional fragment with a claim of ownership attached to it. Yet, so few individuals had proper respect for it. I did not believe I owned time in any capacity- nor did I feel that I had any say in how others chose to use it- however, I had an affinity for proper etiquette. Being late was simply rude. 

Jessie strode into the room with his usual confident posture, as if our scheduled meeting hadn't started twenty minutes ago. A meeting that he suggested, ironically.

He looked around the room with a look of concern and confusion before nudging a loose sock on the floor. I could admit that I could have had my own manners and cleaned up some, but Sleep had demanded I pick up my guitar and strum a melody for her. 

Anything for my deity.  

"Did you fire the housekeeper or something?" He asked with a chuckle. 

"Or something. " I grumbled. Actually, the house keeper had quit. "She stayed later than normal and I came home." She was supposed to stick to a strict schedule in the first place so I could come and go with ease. It was her own damn fault that she was greeted by me in full costume. I felt a little bad for startling her- to put it lightly- but it was better that she see me in the mask and cape rather than without it. 

"Ah," he nodded, "You haven't found a new one yet?" He moved a take-out box off the couch and took a seat. The leather groaned beneath him, despite him being rail thin and a couple of inches shorter than me. 

"A difficult task when I have to thoroughly vet every single person that walks through that door. Finding someone with the ability to be discreet, let alone willing to work for me once they see me as Vessel, is quite a challenge." I refused to show my identity to anyone, that includes Jessie. I'll wear every ounce of stage makeup, even in the comfort of my own home, to prevent speculation. 

He rested his elbows on his knees and began twirling his thumbs. His eyebrows kitted together and he pursed his lips.  I could almost see invisible gears turning in his mind as he mulled through whatever internal debate that had stirred within him.

"Care to share?" I asked. His eyes flashed up and he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Is sharing really caring?" 

"Cut the shite." I deadpanned, I was already growing impatient. 

He seemed unsure if he wanted to voice whatever he had been thinking about. While I was curious by nature, I would rather discuss what he came here for and be done with it. My fingers rubbed small circles on the guitar. I was just about to let it go and get back to working when he decided to open his mouth. 

"What if I told you that such a person does exist, and she has incentive."

"What are you on about?" There was no way he was about to pull a housekeeper out of his sleeve like a damned magician. 

"I have a friend, met her back in the states," he leaned back and stretched his arms across the back of the couch,  "She's recently moved into town on an employment visa and the place she had lined up fell through. She's in desperate need of a job or she gets sent back. Unfortunately, that also means she needs a place to live." 

"Hell no." This place was the only place I didn't have to hide, at least half the time. Someone living here would only make it that much more suffocating. Not to mention the fury my deity would unleash on me for allowing someone to disrupt our co-existence. 

"Hear me out, Vessel." He held his hand up as if that would stop me from effectively telling him to get completely fucked- it wouldn't. "You need someone who can be discreet and she needs employment and a place to live. It works perfectly." 

"How can you guarantee that she will be discreet?" I asked, waiting for him to tell me that there is no guarantee and that I'd just have to give her a chance. As empathetic as I felt for her situation, that doesn't warrant me being careless with who I let into my home, permanently or otherwise. 

A shit-eating grin spread across his mouth before he finally said the magic words, "She's mute." A renewed sense of curiosity dawned over me. What were the chances that my house keeper would quit around the same time that another, desperate and specifically equipped to keep a secret, would waltz right into town? 

"How'd you know she was coming here, then?"

"She emailed me a copy of her visa contract, she only sends me things that are serious and needs someone with trained eyes on it." Guess I wasn't the only one who thought having a lawyer for a friend was a good investment. Smart girl.  "She also forwarded me the email she got just two days after getting here from the company that was supposed to hire her. They flaked, hired someone else." Fucking halfwits. Disregarding the fact that she had uprooted her entire life, not delivering on an agreement was distasteful. If you make a commitment, you should follow through. 

A beat of silence fell between us. I mulled over the decision in my head and Jessie seemed to understand that his silence was necessary, if he said one wrong thing I might not go for it. The only issue I would have is her living here. Although, there might not be a more perfect match in this sense. One look over his shoulder and into my kitchen solidified my decision. I loathed dishes.   

"Her interview is in an hour."