CHAPTER FIVE
Looking for a live-in caregiver who won't kill her patient and won't steal shit from me. You'll be caring for an elderly woman who is so damn mean that the devil didn't want her. She's a wicked curmudgeon, but you'll be well compensated so her evilness shouldn't really affect you. And if it would, then this ain't the position for you. You'll be responsible for transporting her to and from all scheduled medical appointments, preparing her meals, and assisting in bathing and hygiene tasks. You should probably be in reasonably good shape otherwise you might get your head bashed in by a plate or something. Just kidding.
No. Not really.
Finally, if you haven't clicked out of this posting yet, then you may just have the balls to handle this witch. Compensation details will be negotiated upon an offer of employment. For more info, please feel free to email me. P.S. Nudes are welcome.
Phoebe's eyes bulged as she read and re-read the job announcement. It was a job posting for a home care aide, but it was like nothing she'd ever read before. She wouldn't mind the work as it was essentially what she'd done for her sister during the last few years of her life.
The ad was intriguing, but she hesitated to respond. She'd worked with difficult clients in the past, so that didn't concern her. She just wasn't sure if she wanted to work for a boss with such a snarky sense of humor.
A small cry emitted from one of the bedrooms. She heard Dana's mattress creak as she crawled out of bed. From over the top of her laptop, Phoebe watched her cousin stumble from her bedroom and enter the boys' bedroom.
This was a nightly occurrence in Dana's apartment. Even though she loved being with her cousin and her kids, the place was just too small, and Phoebe felt like another burden on Dana's small shoulders. With a heavy sigh, Phoebe clicked on the contact's email and drafted her message.
Hello. I'm responding to the ad for a full-time, live-in caregiver. I'm a Certified Nursing Assistant who has worked as a home care aide for the last seven years. I was employed with a home care agency for four years, then became a live-in caregiver for an individual diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In that role, I fulfilled all of the duties you described in your posting. Unfortunately, my last client passed away nearly three months ago, so I am not able to provide them as a professional reference. However, I do have letters of reference from my previous supervisor and clients. I have attached them, along with my résumé. Thank you.
Even as a niggling doubt simmered in the back of her mind, Phoebe pressed enter and sent the email. She continued scrolling through the job announcements, clicking on other jobs in the healthcare field. There were many postings. Some were for similar positions while others were posted by staffing agencies. Most were in her target range for an hourly wage, but only a handful offered educational assistance.
If she settled for living in South Tacoma or Lakewood, she could make it on fifteen bucks an hour without having to find a second job. But it wouldn't be enough to pay for her college. She only needed two more general education requirements before she could apply to a nursing program. If she could enroll in school full-time, then she would be finished within three years.
What she needed was a position that paid at least twenty an hour or offered to pay for further education.
She was about to shut down her computer when she heard the alarm that signified a new email. She switched back to her inbox and found she'd already received a response to her email.
Hi there. I'm Ashley Cooper. Are you available to chat by phone? Ashley had provided a phone number in her response. Phoebe checked the clock on her computer and was surprised that it was past ten on the west coast.
It was odd for someone to invite a phone call this late, but some people worked unusual hours, and maybe they weren't available within business hours. Phoebe picked up her phone and punched in the phone number. She held her breath, waiting for Ashley to pick up the phone. Maybe she had misunderstood?
Then the line picked up. "Hello?" The voice was warm, deep, and distinctively male.
She felt like an idiot. Although there were dozens of legitimate jobs posted on this website, it was also known for being a place where trolls and catfish lurked. "I'm sorry for calling so late. I was given this number by a potential employer."
"Yeah. That's me."
"Oh," she said, twisting her lips. That website was also known for a third thing. A pick-up joint for prostitutes and johns. "This is about the caregiver position, right? Working with the elderly lady."
"You mean the Devil's Spawn?"
"Uh. Well, I think so." She held the phone against her ear and waited for his response. There was dead air on the other side. She felt like she was failing this phone interview. "Again, I'm sorry for calling this late. My name is Phoebe Marshall. I was calling to speak with Ashley Cooper?"
"I'm Ashley." There was a chuckle on the other end. "Trust me, I'm used to the confusion. You were expecting a woman? Perhaps a woman with a bubbly personality and a high-pitched voice? Well, at least, that's how I would imagine a female Ashley if I knew one." There was a brief pause. "Where are you located, Phoebe?"
"I'm still in Indianapolis. Is that a problem?"
"No. Not a problem." There was a muffling sound on the other end. She could hear another voice in the background. Now that one was distinctly female.
"Sorry about that," Ashley said. "My aunt was telling me to get the hell out of her room." He sighed. "She doesn't talk very much, but when she does, it makes me blush. Tell me, Phoebe, have you ever worked with a difficult client before?"
She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her. "I have, actually. One of my very first clients. She'd been through a half-dozen caregivers before I was assigned to her. She was a ninety-three-year-old woman who felt and acted like a sixty-three-year-old. Her family wanted her to take it easy, but she wanted to live life to the fullest. She and I came to an understanding."
"What kind of understanding was that?"
Phoebe smiled, recalling Ethel Livingston. "I would take her to the riverboat casino every Saturday, if she promised to give me no trouble during the week. I had the weekends off, but I didn't mind spending my free time with her. She was hilarious."
"I take it she passed away?"
"Yeah," she said. "She died a few years back. It's not really uncommon with the work I do. If I do a good job, then they'll keep me on as long as I'm needed and--"
"When are you planning to move to Washington?"
She sucked in a breath. "I--uh--guess it depends. I'm a little hesitant to move out there without a job; at the same time, I'm sure my résumé is being passed over because of my Indiana address and phone number." She opened the calendar on her laptop and counted the remaining weeks of the month. "But I could start almost immediately. The only thing I would need to work out is how I'm going to get there."
"Do you own a car?"
"I do."
"Are you going to drive it out here?"
"I think so. It's an older car, but it has a good engine. It should get me there in one piece."
Again, there was silence on the other end. She couldn't hear any muffled voices. Then he returned to the phone.
"I'm going to be completely frank with you, Phoebe. I'm in a desperate spot with my aunt. I've missed a lot of work, taking care of her after she chases away a caregiver. And let me tell you, she's been through several in just a few weeks." He sighed. "So I'm looking for someone reliable. Permanent."
"I think I can do that. I mean, I should tell you that I'm planning to go to nursing school, but it's going to take me a few years to complete the program. Otherwise, I'm yours if you need me."
"Mine if I need you," he repeated.
She could practically hear the smile in his voice. "I mean that I am reliable and open to a permanent position."
"Good. Then we should talk about compensation."
She swallowed. "Your ad mentioned this was a live-in situation?"
"Yes, it is. I converted my den into a third bedroom on the first floor. She can't navigate the stairs very well. Your room, I'm afraid, will be on the second floor. Right next to mine. You'll have your own bathroom, but you'll need to go up and down the stairs a lot--"
"That's not a problem."
"Good. Good." He exhaled loudly. "You mentioned you were interested in pursuing a nursing degree?"
"That's right."
"What if I told you this position not only has health, dental, and vision benefits, but your education will be covered. I'll also add you to my auto insurance and phone plans. Really, the only thing you'll need is your own spending money."
She pushed up from the couch and began to pace. This was the type of position she needed. Her room and board would be covered, plus she'd have her education paid for. How could she say no? "What's the pay?"
There was another silent moment. Then he said, "Well, how about $1500?"
"A week?"
He laughed. "No. A month."
The phone dropped from her hand. She dipped and caught it before it crashed against the floor. Fifteen hundred a month was definitely much lower than she had anticipated, but when she considered everything else offered, it didn't seem so bad.
"Hello?" he asked.
"I'm here."
"I thought I lost you."
There was another wail from the children's bedroom, and Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut. Dana had opened her home to her, but she knew she'd outstayed her welcome. There was literally nowhere else to go. She needed this job. And she needed this fresh start.
"This sounds too good to be true," she said to him. "What's the catch?"
He laughed again. "I'm the catch."