A Polish nanny who didn't know English, the first to see through my secret hidden in the food.-4

Pet Adoption and Responsibility

Marta Enters
Tuesday, The doorbell rings. A woman stands outside. Around fifty. Short grey hair. Dark blue coat, black trousers, brown leather shoes. Carries a square canvas tote. She looks at me. "Marta Wysocka." Steady voice, Eastern European accent. "Come in," I say. She steps over the threshold, stands in the hallway scanning. "I'm David." "David." Precise pronunciation.  "See house?" "Of course." I lead her around.  She walks slowly, lingering in each room.
Observing windows, floors, furniture placement. Silent, just looking. We end up back in the kitchen. "Work?" "Cleaning. Laundry. Simple cooking." "Hours?" "Three days a week. Nine AM to six PM." Nod. "Pay?" I state the figure. She pauses. "Okay." "Need contract?" Shakes her head. "Cash." I agree. She holds out her hand. We shake. Her hand is dry, palm calloused. Grip firm. "Start tomorrow." I agree. She puts her shoes back on, shrugs back into her coat. Leaving, she says, "Goodbye, David." 


A Polish nanny who didn't know English

Language Barrier Established
Next morning, nine sharp. Marta arrives.  I lead her to the living room. "Experience?" I ask. She looks at me. "Work experience?" Shakes her head. "Not English." "None at all?" She pinches her fingers close together: "Little bit." "Let's try basic words." Point to the sofa: "Sofa." She repeats: "Sofa."


Sounds like "Shofa." Point to the table: "Table." She says: "Tabull." I nod.  We continue for ten minutes. Then she waves a hand: Enough. "Learn slow." I agree. She opens her tote, pulls out cleaning supplies, begins working. Marta kneels, wiping the bottom shelf of a cabinet. She sees me. "David, problem." Points under the sink. "Leaking." I bend down. Water beads at the joint. "I fix." "Now?" She asks. "Today." Nod. She resumes wiping the floor. Our first real conversation.
the first to see through my secret hidden in the food.

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