The Callahan's Son

"Oh, and Jade?"

"Jade, don't forget your taking Lillian out to get a dress for her tea party this Saturday. Make sure she doesn't pick out anything with capped sleeves. Jade, I need you to talk to Manuel, he's cutting the hedges too low again. Oh, and speak to Maria in the kitchen about making that spicy curry dish; Mr. Callahan is coming home this weekend from Peru, and he always enjoyed that. Jade, remember to..."

Jade, fumbling along behind Mrs. Callahan, scribbled across her hand, trying to keep up with the rapid fire requests. Had she known taking on this house keeper job would have required so many notes, she would have stayed in college. That is, if she could have afforded to stay. 

"No capped sleeves, right. His name is Francisco, but I'll talk to him anyway. Oh, and Mrs. Callahan?"

"- and that god awful dress Mrs. Turner wore to my banquet! What was she thinking, capped sleeves?"

"Mrs. Callahan."

"What, dear, what is it?"

"Umm," Jade so eloquently said, "Mr. Callahan can't eat spicy food anymore. Not after the debacle in Jamaica, remember?"

"Right. You're right. Tell Maria to make gazpacho instead."

"Gazpacho," Jade muttered, as she wrote on her forearm now. 

"Oh and Jade?"

And so it went, Mrs. Callahan speaking quickly  and Jade writing messily. This could be worse, Jade thought. I could be busting my ass as a waitress and not get paid nearly as much as I do here. Several more months, and you can pay off your student debts, and sit comfortably in a lecture hall again. Hopefully soon.