Prologue:
She couldn't believe she lost her lucky charm on the morning of the day she was leaving for summer camp. It was impossible. She needed it! It was a bracelet made of black leather with a silver four-leaved clover on it. Her grandma gave it to her and usually she never took it off. She only had to the other day because she was helping her mother in the backyard. They were seeding carrots and radish and Brittany didn't want it to get dirty. Now she has no idea where she put it.
"Moooom!" She yelled downstairs while hurrying into the bathroom. Maybe she left it by the sink. "I can't find my bracelet!"
But it wasn't there. It also wasn't on her nightstand table or on the windowsill. It wasn't on the kitchen counter and it wasn't in the backyard shed, either.
"Brittany… you're turning thirteen soon. You have to learn how to take better care of your things. You keep losing bracelets, books, shirts and even your hamster last year. You can't always rely on your mom and dad." Her mother said with a consoling voice when they were sitting in the car a few minutes later but it didn't help.
Besides, it wasn't even true. She only once lost her favorite shirt, she certainly didn't lose her hamster Buddy but he ran away and she never lost a bracelet before because she simply didn't have another bracelet. It was her only one and therefore favorite one. Her grandma bought it for her when they went on vacation together a few years ago.
"You'll find it when you get home, sweetie." Brittany heard her mother say but it only made her feel worse. You need a lucky charm with you. It probably loses its power when you neglect it at home. She swallowed painfully when they turned around a corner and left their neighborhood behind.
It turned out that forgetting your lucky charm at home didn't mean everything was lost. The summer camp was everything she had hoped for. Her friends were there, they played guitar and sang along, there was a campfire, they had yummy snacks and giggled and laughed until late at night.
Her favorite instructor was Ms. Gordon. She was smart and kind and everyone listened to her. She told them stories about the ocean, showed them pictures of her trip to the North Pole or taught them how to save water and separate waste correctly. She was lovely… and definitely younger than her parents. And a lot cooler than them. She even helped Brittany finding her camp name. Cyan.
Something about how that color naturally occurred in the sky, the water and the ice and how it matched Brittany's eyes when the sun hit her face.
So Brittany enjoyed every minute of her stay at the camp. She also learned a lot. She learned that there were different ways to produce energy. Bad ones and not so bad ones. But it was important to know about them because they needed energy for almost everything in life.
She also learned about global warming and that lots of things needed to change in the future. The way Ms. Gordon talked so passionately about how her generation – Brittany's generation was going to be the one to maybe make a change, did something to Brittany. She wasn't sure if she understood yet what Ms. Gordon said. But somewhere deep inside her chest, Brittany made a promise that summer. To herself and to Ms. Gordon.
She was going to change something. She was going to find a way.
So when they all said goodbye to Ms. Gordon after two weeks of nothing but joy and adventures, Brittany was very sad but then her heart warmed when she took the necklace that Ms. Gordon reached out to her. The thing she loved most about it was the little pendant in shape of a whale. It was the prettiest necklace she had ever seen and Ms. Gordon gave it to her. Brittany promised that she was going to come back for the next summer camp and the years after. She had a new lucky charm after all.
Present time…15 years later…
Brittany chuckles when she looks at the whale necklace in her hand. She just found it while rummaging in a drawer she hadn't opened in forever because she simply forgot it existed. But when she couldn't find the key to her storage room, she opened every single drawer in her apartment which includes the slim one under her desk. For a second she's tempted to call her mother. But then again why would her mother know where that key is.
Because mothers know these things…
Eventually she finds it on her own. Weirdly, in a side pocket of her suitcase but she's just happy she's got it. After throwing the suitcase back under her bed, she stumbles a few times on her way to the apartment door over all kinds of stuff. Boots, boxes an even a flowerpot. She should definitely clean her apartment. As in like two weeks ago. But there is no time right now. She's already late for her appointment with a potential client. And well… she needs the money. The woman sounded friendly over the phone. Maybe a bit distant. But what do you expect from a stranger you've never met before. It's always the same with new clients where the initial contact happens over the phone. Brittany paints a picture in her head of what they might look like just by hearing their voices. She wonders whether they are married, what kind of job they do and how old they are.
This woman is probably around 40, married to an incredulous rich plastic surgeon and they play golf every weekend with his boss. They have a spoiled daughter of seven years. Coco. Or Shania. And there are at least two German sports cars in their drive way.
Brittany rolls her eyes when she closes the door of her apartment to make her way over to her old truck. The back is filled with the items she needs for her every day work but the lady on the phone had some special wishes so she quickly needs to stop by her storage room in order to get some more stuff.
Not that there's time to do so. Why did her alarm clock fail her this morning? Or like the days before? Did she even set it? Oh well… she lady can call herself lucky to have been able to even get an appointment with Brittany. She has been booked quite frequently. Thanks to the mouth to mouth propaganda among these cougars in New Port Beach, it's basically a no-brainer. Or maybe she's also just good at her work. Or both combined.
So the lady can wait for another ten minutes, no big deal.
When Brittany arrives at the address about fifty minutes late, she mentally prepares herself for a lecture about how on earth she can be so selfish and let people wait. Nobody likes to wait anymore... Everyone's always in a hurry. Maybe that's why Brittany doesn't even feel bad when doing the opposite. She can't possibly live her life on full speed and get expected to also do her work perfectly. It's one way or the other. You can't have both. And if the lady… lady… Brittany reaches in her back pocket to get the wrinkled paper she wrote the address and name down.
"Lady Lopez", Brittany mumbles. She looks up at the house while putting her sunglasses up on her forehead to get a better look.
It's nothing she hasn't seen before. She's worked at these places countless times. And it's always the same. They're beautiful, perfectly furnished and you could probably lick it off the floor if you ever spilled a glass of orange juice for breakfast. Or Champagne. Whether they're really beautiful lies in the eye of the beholder, she thinks.
This one is not so bad. It's not as crazy huge as the one she finished a few days ago. The owner was apparently the one to recommend Brittany to Mrs. Lopez. She was a hottie… But happily married to this – of course – top celebrity lawyer.
The house or rather mansion was way too much for Brittany. If she lived there, she'd get lost in it while going to the bathroom at night. But the family seemed to feel very much at home.
When Brittany makes her way to the front door, she throws a look down her body. Of course there's a stain on her white t-shirt. She didn't bother putting on her apron when working with clay last night. And neither to wear a new shirt this morning. The stain looks like she spilled some brown beans. Or something even less appetizing.
Once she rings the door bell, she quickly tucks the shirt in. Then her eyes drop lower to another stain on her jeans.
"What the…" she mutters.
Then the door gets opened. The Lady Lopez has a freakishly attractive daughter. Or cleaning lady. Or nanny. Dear baby Jesus, help perform sentence. Pls.
"Oh hi - you must be Brittany." The daughter says before Brittany gets to open her mouth in order to introduce herself. Brittany nods.
"Correcto, I'm me. I mean landscaper. Brittany, the landscaper. Yes."
The brown haired woman smiles, holding the door open for Brittany to step inside. When Brittany passes by the woman, the scent of a very good shower gel hits her.
"So uh… I guess I'm gonna discuss things with your mother?" Brittany asks when turning around to face the brunette again.
The woman stares at her utterly irritated.
"My mother?" She speaks with a hint of disgust in her voice.
"Oh sorry!" Brittany shakes her head. She should have gone with nanny…
"I'm twenty-eight. This is my house?" The woman says, her eyes locking with Brittany's and a gesture of both her hands like she's patting the air.
Brittany wonders what the smoothest way would be. To laugh it off and pretend like she just made a joke or to apologize or to just steps backwards and leave the house without saying anything. The woman takes the decision from her though.
"Don't worry. You're actually not the first one to make that comment. Do you want a glass of water? Soda?"
Brittany follows the woman inside the house.
"Water would be great, thanks. Wow… your place is… lovely."
It comes out a bit too friendly. But Brittany has to swallow when she gets to see the tons of shoes lined up in the entrance. Who can even wear that many shoes in one life? All the Blahniks and Pradas look like they've never even been touched before. Yes, she knows these brands. No, she'd never wear them.
All the very fine-looking paintings on the wall make her drop her jaw. She likes them though… but wouldn't one be enough? Oh well, the woman seems to be interested in art.
"Thanks. I keep changing things but at the moment I like it quite alright."
Quite alright… Brittany thinks. This looks so much more expensive than quite alright.
After leaving Brittany alone in the living room for a minute, the woman reapers from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand, holding it up to Brittany.
"Do you want me to show you the backyard right away?" She wants to know when pointing to the other side of the living room. Through the big windows Brittany can see some plants, something like a garden shred and a hint of an ocean view between some leaves.
She follows the brunette through the big room. She wouldn't sit down on the big couch if the woman offered her to do so. All the drama about her pants leaving stains on it – no thanks…
They exit through the back door to a big yard. There isn't much more than the shred, a broken swing, one or two old plants that haven't seen water in months and a rusty barrow. When she lets her eyes wander over the dry lawn, she swallows emptily. Lots of work ahead.
"So… you told me some things on the phone already, Mrs. Lopez. But I'm sure you've got more uh, wishes? Like…-"
"Please, it freaks me out when you call me Mrs. Lopez. Since I may call you Brittany, I'd be happy if you called me by my first name, too." Britany grins inwardly. She'd be happy if I called her by her first name, too. "Santana. That's my name. I think I told you on the phone already, didn't I?" Ok sorry, star, for forgetting your name? "Well I was thinking since I don't know much about gardening and stuff… that I'd just let you do your thing? I'm sure you'll figure out something wonderful. From what I've heard, you're the best at what you do. So… all I can say is that I want to come home after a long day at work and sit in my backyard without having to feel like I'm… in the desert."
Brittany observes the way Mrs. Lopez… Santana makes a few steps with her arms crossed in front of her chest. There's no way she plays golf like she pictured it earlier. These thin arms can't hit a golf club. Let alone hold up Coco or Shania. They maybe hold a glass of iced tea while watching her husband play.
"Right" Brittany says after a moment of thinking. "Santana… I'm not sure if I'm the right person for this job." She doesn't know why she's saying this. She's perfect for the job. She can't stand it when clients dislike all her suggestions without even listening to them. This woman wants her to do all the creative suggestions. And basically do what she wants.
Santana turns around with almost the same stunned look on her face like earlier when they introduced themselves.
"Huh?" Comes out of her mouth. "You're… I thought you were – my friend loved everything you did and so did I. I saw it just the other day."
Brittany watches how the woman makes the few steps back into her direction.
"Well, I… it's just this... lawn." Brittany finally tries to explain although it's not an explanation.
"My lawn?"
"Or… what's left of it" Brittany continues. "I don't think I have the right equipment." She shrugs.
That seems to soften Mrs. Lopez' confusion at first but then she narrows her eyes.
"But you're a landscaper. Can't you borrow it from somewhere?"
Brittany shrugs again.
"Huh yeah" For a moment she's lost at words. This isn't how she usually handles the first meetings with potential clients. She reaches the glass up to her lips and empties it in one go. It's ice cold. She ignores the brain freeze like a pro.
The brunette just watches her wordlessly and takes the glass that Brittany hands back to her.
"I uhm, you know what I quickly need to make a phone call. I'll be right back. If you'll excuse me for a sec?" Brittany babbles when she reaches into the back pocket of her jeans to get her phone.
She doesn't even await an answer but makes her way back through the living room and to the front door where she comes to a stop. She can hear the woman also stepping back inside.
"I'll take this outside" Brittany comments before opening the door, stepping through and making a few steps towards her old truck that is parked on the side of the street.
From the corner of her eye she can see the brunette standing by a window next to the front door. Brittany lifts her phone up to her ear, waits a few seconds and then starts babbling. She has no idea what she's doing. She's not being herself and she hasn't got a clue what's gotten into her.
After a few more seconds of speaking to nobody about blah and blah, Brittany puts the phone away. She scratches her forehead when walking back towards the house. That's when Mrs. Lopez comes out of it.
"Before you say something" The brunette begins, "I'd like to offer you double payment." Brittany stares at her. "I'm sorry I didn't get it before. You must have tons of job offers and you were being very reserved when we talked about the payment over the phone. I guess that's not something you talk over the phone. I have no idea about this kind of stuff. But you probably need it when organizing that special kind of… lawn fixing… machine."
Brittany feels a hint of a bad conscience rushing through her insides when she watches the woman raising her hands up before dropping them again. But then again, did she say double payment?
Brittany lets her hand run through her hair while staring at the woman's shoes. One of her hundreds or thousands of pairs.
"I mean… I'll find a way to or arrange the lawn machine. That's definitely going to work out."
For the first time since she opened the door for Brittany, Mrs. Lopez has a smile on her face that seems real. And relieved.
"So that's a yes?" She asks hopefully. Brittany nods her head.
"Yup. It's a deal." She mumbles when mirroring Mrs. Lopez action who walks towards her. When they're standing in front of each other, Brittany looks at the slim hand reaching out. Once they're shaking hands, she can't quite say what she's gotten herself into.
A job. Of course.
But when lady Lopez waves a shy goodbye after they made a second appointment for the next day and Brittany has jumped into her truck, she can't help but think that it's not going to be like all the others. She just doesn't know why.
When she's driving the way back to her apartment and the wind messes with her hair, she wonders why she was so irritated at first.
This woman is everything she's not. Well, they're the same age, they maybe even went to the same school, who knows, but they probably couldn't be friends in a million years. Brittany can't stand people who live like this. Not that she knows anything about her. But she's so different.
She lives in this place where easily ten people could live peacefully together, there's that much space. She's must have or make money that could take care of whole towns in other countries.
Sometimes Brittany doesn't know why she works for people who she'll never quite understand. Sometimes she thinks that maybe she's not so different. After all she's glad she has a new job which will pay her. Double. It's a mess in her head sometimes.
But when she feels the sun tickle her skin and ideas pop into her head of how she's going to turn that yard into a tiny paradise, she forgets about things quickly.
That's a thought for another day.
To end the year and start a new - here's the first chapter of a new story. Is it worth continuing? I have lots of ideas to go on.
bobbieyoung