By
Inanimate77
With a growing sense of
dread, Amy realized that the wedding was fast approaching. It seemed like every
time Amy began to feel a bit more comfortable in her role as a housemaid
something new was thrown at her.
Unbeknownst to the young
maid, Susan had been intentionally plotting to keep her off balance. It was all
part of her plan to slowly break down the college student who despite having
such a promising future was rapidly losing control.
From a young age Susan
had always liked the finer things in life. As a child she used to sneak sips of
her parents' fine wine when they were not looking. Throughout her childhood,
she was always searching for the next big thing. Whether it was equestrian
lessons or one on one figure skating lessons from a former Olympian, Susan
strived to be the best. She craved being elite and took delight in one upping
her friends. All of them came from good homes as well, so it was a continual
arms race.
Amy, however, represented
a potential crowning achievement. Sure many of her friends had domestics
serving in their home, although most were just poor immigrants from some
backward country. Still a few had managed to hire genuine Americans to serve at
their beck and call. Up until now they had been the envy of the group, but all
of that was going to change. When Susan presented her Ivy League educated
housemaid to her friends they would literally die from jealousy. She just
needed a little more time to finish breaking the girl before the big reveal.
As the Labor Day weekend wedding approached, Susan had intentionally taken her foot off the pedal. She needed Amy to let her guard down so that this latest experience would have the maximum psychological impact. With college set to resume the following Tuesday, her maid would be completely frazzled and out of sorts. While she didn’t want her to flunk out, Susan wanted to crush what little confidence remained in the coed.
Now that the weekend was
here, Susan even took time out of her day to help Amy pack and get ready for
the journey. She used this opportunity to further reinforce her control. When
Amy boarded the train, it had been made clear that her performance this weekend
was a direct reflection on her employer. If she wasn’t already stressed about
her upcoming assignment, she certainly was after Susan put her on the train.
Even after she found her
seat on the regional Amtrak train, Amy felt uneasy. All she wanted to do on the
trip was close her eyes and imagine that she was taking a vacation up to Maine,
but the reality of her situation was inescapable.
To make matters worse the
older woman sitting next to her kept trying to make small talk. When it turned
out that both of them were traveling for a wedding, Amy began feeling sick to
her stomach. Thankfully it appeared that it was not the same event.
Eventually the woman did
stop talking; the regular click clack of the draft helped her drift off to
sleep. It was Labor Day weekend, the traditional end of Summer and the last few
days before school restarted. In prior years, Amy would be using this time to
make sure she was ready for the next academic year. It was that drive that had
landed her a scholarship in the first place, but now her focus and drive would
be on other matters. Amy would be serving some bridezilla and her friends.
Amy woke up with a start
as the train jolted to a stop at a small local station. Quickly realizing that
this was not her destination, she watched a handful of travelers hop off the
train onto the nearly deserted platform before the train pulled away. Wide
awake, Amy felt the train begin chugging along the tracks. Normally she found
train travel quite relaxing but as the train traveled along all Amy felt was a
growing anxiety as she contemplated what awaited her at the end of the journey.
Now part of her actually wanted to talk to the old woman seated beside her, but
she unfortunately was sound asleep.
Feeling completely wired,
Amy spent the remainder of the trip attempting to calm herself by watching the
scenery as it gracefully drifted by. That did little to calm her nerves which
went into overdrive as the train arrived at her destination. Like so many stops
along the way, it too appeared to be deserted.
Amy found her suitcase
and hopped down onto the platform. Thankfully Susan had not insisted on her
wearing her uniform. However, she did expect that Amy dress like a proper lady,
quiet and demure. Susan had picked out a relatively modest navy blue midi dress
that had just a hint of white trim around the neck and sleeves which ran the
full length of her arms. The dress which hit part way down her calf was paired
with a pair of nude pantyhose and simple brown flats. It was light weight and
not overly warm although when she had left the warm Boston air earlier in the
day, Amy had been a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully farther north the weather,
while pleasant, was much cooler.
Much to Amy’s surprise
there was a man waiting at the platform with a placard with her name on it.
Without saying a single word, he took the young maid’s bag before leading her
over to a sleek black sedan. The entire experience felt a bit surreal. On one
hand it made her feel really important, but on the other, it was really
unsettling. Throughout the entire 30 minute drive, the man never said one
single word to her. What little communication existed between the two of them
revolved around simple gestures.
Although the drive was
peaceful, it provided Amy with more time to think about the wedding. While
several weeks had passed since her initial run in with the bridal party at the
seamstress shop, Amy remembered it vividly. Like so many people who attended her
school they just reeked of money. In her experience that meant they were
entitled. When it came to wealth, even the most progressive students, who were
actively trying to fight for one cause or another, couldn’t shake that part of
their personality. The world just magically provided for them.
Amy was brought out of
her thoughts as the car came to a stop. Her driver immediately got out and
opened her door. Being driven in a private car was a completely alien
experience for Amy. When she pushed herself to excel at school Amy would
sometimes dream of being wealthy with people catering to her every need. She
couldn’t shake the irony that her first experience being provided such a
service was to deliver her to work as a housemaid.
As Amy exited the car she
got her first view of the estate. The family had completely rented a historic
hotel which rested up on some cliffs near the Atlantic Ocean. Its white and
gray outer facade blended elegantly into the natural landscape with breathtaking
views of the rocky coastline. A cobblestone walkway led up to the entrance. The
grounds were perfectly manicured and filled with trees that were already
beginning to display their Autumn colors.
The sound of waves
crashing along the shore and the faint scent of salt in the air greeted Amy as
she walked up the path. It was a truly beautiful day and based on the forecast
looked like it was going to be a near perfect weekend.
The inside of the hotel
did not disappoint. Amy was greeted by a elegant spiral staircase which led to
the second floor. Skylights overhead bathed the entryway in natural sunlight
while a crystal chandelier glistened in the rays. However, Amy had little time
to take things in as her driver guided her down a hallway toward one of the
guest suites.
Inside the room, Amy
recognized her immediately. It was the mother from the seamstress shop. She was
sitting comfortably in an armchair reading a book. By the time she lifted her
eyes up to acknowledge Amy, the driver had already left the room.
“Welcome dear. I’m so
happy that you made it.” She smiled warmly at Amy.
“Thank you,” Amy replied.
“I’m Mrs. Grant. I know
we didn’t really get a chance to formally meet at the seamstress shop. It means
a lot to me that you accepted my offer.”
At that moment, Amy
realized that she actually didn’t know what Mrs. Grant had offered. Susan had
handled all of the details. She knew better than to inquire further. “Well I am
honored that you would consider hiring me for such a special occasion.”
The older woman smiled as
Amy’s words seemed to further validate the rationale for hiring her. “I thought
Susan’s praise was a bit much, but I can see from your attitude that it was
justified. You really are quite the gem. Anyway there is a lot to do, so let’s
get down to business. Please take a seat.” Mrs. Grant gestured toward a wooden
chair.
Although there was a
clear power dynamic between the two women, Amy felt herself begin to relax as
she took a seat. Mrs. Grant was clearly someone who got what she wanted, yet
her approach was very disarming.
“As you are well aware
this is an incredibly important weekend for my daughter.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“However, this is also an
important weekend for my family. My daughter is entering the social stage
representing the next generation of Grants. After this weekend we will be
forever joined to the Johnson family. It will be a union of two great names and
form a legacy that will be the talk of the social circuit.”
Amy kept her attention on
her employer trying to remain as impassive as possible in order to not betray
her true feelings. Growing up she had always imagined her wedding being a
romantic affair, but hearing Mrs. Grant speak about her daughter’s nuptials made
her feel more like she was taking part in a business transaction. It left a bad
taste in her mouth.
“That is where you come
in my dear, girl. For the next couple of days I need you to manage all of the
noise that comes with the wedding. Cara needs to be focused on being charming.
I need all of her energy devoted to socializing with our guests. There can be
no distractions.”
Amy nodded her head in
agreement. She already had a sense for what her role was going to be this
weekend. Mrs. Grant was simply confirming that she would be at her daughter’s
beck and call.
“Wonderful, wonderful.”
Mrs. Grant sighed as she got up from her chair. “I only wish my mother had
thought of hiring a personal maid for my wedding. I barely remember it. That day was simply exhausting.”
Amy couldn't help but
feel a twinge of sympathy for Mrs. Grant as she spoke nostalgically about her
own wedding. It was clear that the expectations and pressures placed on women
in high society were immense, and Amy couldn't imagine having to navigate through
such a world.
Without waiting for a
response, Mrs. Grant continued, “Well I am sure that you are tired from your
travels. Please take the rest of tonight to get yourself settled in. My
assistant, Rebecca, will show you to your room. After you’ve settled down for
the evening please take a moment to review the schedule outlining all of your
duties for the weekend. Tomorrow morning I will expect you, dressed in uniform,
ready to go at 8 sharp.”
Amy rose from her chair,
bowing slightly to Mrs. Grant, “Thank you Ma’am.” Despite not being in her
uniform, the gesture felt natural given the training she had received from
Susan.
Nothing further was
spoken as Amy quietly exited the room. Rebecca stood next to the door patiently
waiting. Upon quietly closing the door behind her, the assistant motioned
toward Amy to follow her.
They walked in
uncomfortable silence down a hallway that opened up to the kitchen. Amy noticed
several cooks preparing food for the evening. She welcomed the din of the pans
and the smell of food cooking, if only to break the tension with her guide.
Rebecca proceeded over to a large wooden door that was propped open. The
doorway led them to a narrow staircase with wooden steps that creaked beneath
their weight. The air grew cooler and damper as they descended, the musty scent
of neglect filling their nostrils. The soft glow of a single flickering light
bulb illuminated the basement corridor, casting eerie shadows along the walls.
They eventually reached a
dimly lit room at the end of the hallway, its entrance partially obstructed by
a heavy velvet curtain hanging askew. Rebecca pushed it aside, revealing a
spacious chamber containing several neatly made but dusty beds. The room had an
abandoned feel to it, as if it had once been bustling with activity but had
long been forgotten.
"This is where
you'll be staying during your time here," Rebecca explained in a hushed
tone that felt strangely appropriate. That was probably because Amy was just
relieved to finally hear the woman speak. "I was told that it used to
house the servants who worked in the house. The hotel no longer uses it but
everything is still in working order. Although they use the cellar for storage,
you should have plenty of privacy as most of the kitchen stores are located
much closer to the stairwell.”
“Thank you. This seems
quite nice.”
Rebecca gave the maid a
queer look. The room was poorly lit, a bit musty and the walls were unfinished
stone. It felt more like a prison cell than a room at a luxurious hotel. Little
did she know that it actually was quite nice compared to Amy’s current living
situation. Regardless she maintained her professional demeanor. “Your schedule
is over on the desk, and your uniforms are in the closet. If you need anything
I will be around the estate. Simply leave any requests with the front desk and
I will have whatever you require brought down. Do you have any questions?”
“No, Rebecca.”
“Then I shall see you in
the morning. Please be on time.” Rebecca quickly turned and headed toward the
stairs eager to be out of the cellar.
Meanwhile Amy took in her
surroundings. Acting almost on instinct she found herself cleaning the room
wiping bits of dust and dirt off as she settled in. It was clear that these
weren’t exactly five star accommodations but all things considered, it was quite
comfortable.
After getting settled Amy
took a moment to look in the closet. Her
uniforms were hanging inside. What she
found left her pleasantly surprised. The
dress was actually quite stylish. It was all black with short sleeves and a
jewel neckline. There appeared to be no apron, but instead a black fabric belt
that perfectly matched the dress. It would allow Amy to cinch the dress and
look quite stylish. Amy realized that to the casual observer, she looked more
like a guest at the party than the help while wearing this dress.
On the floor sitting
below the dress were a pair of designer black block pumps. From looking at the
label, Amy assumed they easily cost $200. Even the pantyhose were high quality.
Amy had never worn Wolfords before, but she could tell just by the feel of the
fabric that these were expensive hose.
All things considered,
Amy was feeling somewhat upbeat about the remainder of the weekend. It was
still going to be a long few days, but perhaps not the impending disaster that
she had expected. She set her phone alarm to 6:30 before getting dressed in her
pajamas. The bed was remarkably comfortable, and although Amy remained anxious,
she quickly fell asleep.
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