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"Oh my heavens, Natalie," Gina cries out and then screeches in glee. I have to cover the speaker and pray that Madame didn't hear it.
"Come on," Laura says. "Tell us everything. Don't leave out any juicy detail."
"I can't. I'm standing in the hallway. Someone could hear me."
"Then get out of the hallway," Jess says, moving her face close to the phone.
"I don't know where to go," I say as I walk down the hall. "I don't even know my way around the place yet. I’m totally out of my league here."
I open a door and stuff myself into a broom closet. I pull a string and a single lightbulb above my head comes on.
"Woah, are you in jail?"
"No, I'm in the closet."
"Are you not allowed to talk on the phone? Have all of your rights been stripped from you?"
The faces of my friends turn worried. "It's not like that, but there are some unspoken rules that I don't want to accidentally break."
"But you're a foreigner," Chrissy says. "You can break the rules. Isn't that supposed to be the best thing about being a foreigner?"
"Not here. You don't understand. And do I need to remind you that I'm trying to work off my debt of many thousands of euros? Now is not the time to rock the boat."
"What's the old lady like?" Jess asks. "Does she smell like sunflowers and the Tuscan breeze?"
"Tuscany is in Italy, and no. She broke her ankle and is on bed rest for two weeks. She's as mad as a wet hen, and I think her face might be permanently frozen in a frown."
"Ooh," they all say together, a painting of alarmed faces on the screen.
"What are you going to do?" Gina asks.
"I don't know, but, I've just got to make it work."
"And if anyone can," Laura says, "you can. Keep your head down. Don't cause trouble. Don't challenge them. I hear that French bourgeoisie hate that. I don't know if these people count as bourgeoisie—"
"Dude," Jess says into the phone. "They've got to be one of France's most elite families. Take Laura's advice."
"You've got this," Laura says taking the phone and moving into another part of the room. "You are a strong, confident, worthy woman. You are going to support this old lady who needs you. You're going to do it for two weeks, and you're going to walk away from this experience better off than you were before. You got that?"
"Yes!" I shout into the phone. "You're right. Iamconfident. Iampowerful. Iama woman of the world, and I've got this!"
The closet door flies open.
Olivier tilts his head. "What you've got is a matriarch who is waiting for you to bring her nightclothes."
"We’ll let you go," Laura whispers into the phone, and the screen goes black.
"Spiders," I say to Olivier.
"What?"
I am a confident woman. I've got this. "I was looking for...an extender. To the broom. Because there are spiderwebs in the corner of your mother's bedroom, and I think that's unacceptable. However, I have not yet been able to find a broom extender. Do you have one?"
"No, but we have a ladder," he says, and I get the sense I'm not putting one over him at all.
"Fine, that will do, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. It's too late now for Madame to have such a clanging in her bedroom. Good evening." I say and march past him, stuffing my phone back in my pocket.
I quietly open Madame's door in case she's already resting, which would be a relief. Instead, I find her gazing out the window. Her face is soft, and with the moonlight falling on her just like that I can see the young woman she once was. She must have been beautiful. Her eyes look nostalgic, and I debate whether or not to say anything, lest I break the moment.
