Chapter 7
Maya
Maybe today could have been a beautiful day. But it's not. Because this cursed coffee machine keeps hissing. And it's staring at me. It puts pressure on me, and I can't handle pressure.
Just as I hesitantly reach for one of the many levers, the function of which I knew during this morning's briefing, my boss, Annika, leans over the counter toward me. "One mélange, two espresso, and a large chai latte with soy milk," she reads from the small notepad in her hand even though I haven't even finished her previous order.
"Coming right up." I sound more confident than I feel. At least I know which cups and glasses to use for the drinks. I grab them from the shelf and place them in front of me on the chalked wooden countertop.
Now what? I'll start with the espresso. And then... what was it again? A mélange?
I whirl around in search of help. But seeing how many customers in the café are waiting for their orders only makes it worse.
"What's wrong?" I don't like the amused smirk on Annika's face.
I smile awkwardly at her. "Um... that was one espresso, and...?"
She blows a stray strand of her disheveled hair away from her forehead, only for it to find its way back to its original place. "Write it down if you can't remember."
More pressure. Great.
I quickly look around for a notepad. Over there, at the end of the counter, is one, along with a pen. "Just a moment, please," I say and hurry off so fast that I almost stumble over my own feet.
I march back to my boss a moment later. "I'm ready to go." I put the pen to paper, only to realize that the damn ink pen isn’t working as Annika rapidly recites the order once again.
Is anything going to work here?
"...and a large chai latte with soy milk. You need to keep up, Maya. We can't keep our guests waiting for so long." With raised eyebrows, she gestures toward the relaxed people chatting behind her.
I really need to deliver now, but as soon as I'm back in front of the coffee machine, it's as if someone wiped my memory clean. There are just too many levers and buttons. But I don’t dare ask Annika the same question again as I did half an hour ago.
I place a cup under the machine's outlets and randomly press one of the buttons. A hot cloud of steam rises in front of me.
"My God, what are you doing?" Before I realize what's happening, Annika stands next to me, stopping the mist from escaping from the nozzle under my nose. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Her scrutinizing gaze meets mine, and I shake my head. "I'm sorry," I stammer.
She looks at me for a moment too long. Surely, she's considering what to do with me. "Listen, Maya... "
"I'll get the hang of it. I promise." My fervent nod must convince her even though I don't even believe it myself.
Her features soften at my words. "It's my fault. I've asked too much of you. Can you empty the dishwasher?"
Of course. After all, I'm not a complete idiot. Or am I? "Already in progress."
I do my best, but even in the following hours, things just don't go smoothly. Two cups break while unloading the dishwasher, a guest complains about the wrong milk in their coffee, and a piece of cake slips off the cake lifter. When it finally calms a bit after noon, I take the opportunity to catch my breath. For the first time today, I look at the sun-drenched room with its unique furniture. Every table is different, and every chair is unique. Although the decor seems haphazard, everything fits together perfectly.
However, I'm starting to doubt whether I fit in here myself. Probably not. But I don't have a choice. The barista job will at least keep me from being homeless. Besides, there isn't much else I can try.
My gaze falls on the pretty woman with the neatly tied platinum blond ponytail and heavily made-up lips at the window table. She is saying goodbye to her much younger friend with a handshake. As the friend leaves in a submissive posture, I notice the piles of documents on the table. Every available space is filled with empty cups and glasses, most of them bearing deep red lipstick marks. The blonde must have been here all day.
So it was a business meeting. Obviously an unsuccessful one, as the elegant lady doesn't look happy. Just like the young woman who hurriedly leaves the café.
"Could I have a glass of water, please?" The blonde's voice reaches me from across the room.
I give her a friendly nod and get to work.
"Your water, please," I say cheerfully as I place the glass in front of her a little later. Then I start gathering the empty cups. "Can I get you anything else?"
A strained snort escapes her mouth. "A nanny who's worth anything would be great."
A nanny? That could be...
Before I can complete my thought, Nadine's words inevitably come to the forefront.
Unsuitable. Unprofessional. Unbearable.
A despondent sigh escapes my lips. "I hope you find someone soon," I say, realizing that this job is definitely not for me.
The blond woman stacks her documents together and then holds the whole pile demonstratively in front of my face. "I've interviewed twenty applicants today. Twelve didn't even have qualifications, but I still agreed to talk to them."
"Why?" Curiously, I sit down on the chair next to her. A relieved sigh escapes my mouth. My legs can finally rest from all the standing.
"Because no one else responded to my job posting." Leaning her head into her hands, she suddenly looks exhausted. "That was my entire selection. I was even willing to make compromises, but no one wanted..."
Suddenly, I feel sorry for her. "You have to stay positive. I'm sure someone will come along." As if to reassure myself, I nod. "And if not, just increase the salary. That will definitely work. "
My words should have given her hope, but she just looks at me, shaking her head. "We already pay four thousand euros per month. The nanny would only have to take care of one child and not do any household chores."
What? That sounds too good to be true. Not only am I left almost speechless, but the guests at the neighboring table also fall silent and cast furtive glances at us.
"Where's the catch?" I blurt out because I'm sure there must be one if she can't find anyone for the job.
"You catch on quickly." Finally, there's a smile on her bright-red lips that makes her seem a little less desperate.
I put my finger on my chin. "The child is temperamental, right? It's one of those little angry monsters that wreak havoc if you take your eyes off them for even a second."
I can't decipher her gaze, but I guess I've just offended her. Maybe she can't handle her own offspring and wants to pass them off to a nanny?
"No child is inherently evil. And if yours is causing problems right now, it doesn't mean they can't be solved," I say cautiously because it just needs to be said. Because if her child is truly difficult, then they must be struggling even more than their perfectly styled mother sitting across from me.
She doesn't reply.
"Often, there's more to it than meets the eye at first. It takes time and trust to understand what burdens a child. That's what you should take. We should all take more time for the children of this world because they have so much to offer if we just let them. "
I bite my lip. Why can't I just keep quiet? She'll probably jump up from her chair, call me a cheeky brat who knows nothing about life, and storm out. The curious onlookers next to us would probably even enjoy it.
I observe her reaction. But it doesn't come. This is definitely strange. I should get out of here. Confused, I reach for the cups to clear them away.
"You're mistaken." Her hand finds my forearm. "That's not the catch." Apparently, she has no intention of letting me go, so I stay. Besides, she piques my curiosity. I want to know what's going on with her child, so I look at her expectantly.
"The position is temporary until September eighth. The start date is in just a few days. July first, to be exact. The employment contract includes a comprehensive confidentiality clause, and the place of work can change at any time." As if she wants to apologize to me for these circumstances, she shrugs.
"That's not only a catch, that's an anchor for a cruise ship." It's hardly surprising that she can't find anyone. Only a terribly naive person would accept such a questionable offer.
"You seem to be good with children," she says, suddenly looking very pleased. "How so?"
Now I'm the one shrugging my shoulders. Mainly to loosen up. "Worked in a kindergarten for a few months." My tone is quite cool, considering the storm brewing inside me.
Do I see enthusiasm on her face? Yes, her eyes are shining like spotlights.
Suddenly, she leans conspiratorially across the table toward me. "Listen, I can't reveal too much without a confidentiality agreement, but the job is fantastic. The five-year-old girl you would be looking after is incredibly sweet. You'll work in a wonderful environment and go on amazing trips." Her voice is so soft that I can barely hear the words. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Well, who wouldn't? I've never been able to afford proper travel. And with the unbelievable salary...
"Here's my card." With her dangerously long fingernails, she slides a jet-black card with golden lettering across the wooden table.
It just says Tamika with no last name. Below that is a phone number and an email address. No address, no job title.
Who is this woman? Why does she need a nanny just for the summer? And why does she refer to her own daughter as the girl ?
"If you do your job well, we're even willing to pay a bonus," she adds, to top it all off.
Earlier I only guessed, but now I know for sure. This thing stinks, big time!
"There are no pitfalls. Sign the confidentiality agreement, and I can tell you more. You'll quickly realize that this job is like winning the lottery." With these words, she pushes herself up from the chair, adjusting the position of her ponytail. "Think about it, but not for too long."
You'll only know what's behind a door when you open it , my father's voice advises me. And he should be on my side.
I watch as the woman waves at me one last time before settling her bill with Annika. As she leaves the café, I'm still watching her .
What if I just go for it?
No. I would never trust that woman in a million years.
To distract myself, I turn to the empty cups on the table. I stack the porcelain into a tower. It's wobbly, but I'll make it to the counter. It's just a few steps. I’m careful when I put one foot in front of the other.
The tower sways.
I pause.
The tower continues to sway.
I need to balance it. With a pounding heart, I move my hands slightly to the side.
And then it happens.
With a deafening crash, the cups shatter on the floor. The fragments soar yards away across the bright laminate tiles. I stand frozen in the middle of the room, clinging to the only saucer that remains in my hand. The guests whistle and applaud with amusement.
Dammit.
"Oh, come on," a disgruntled female voice says, and seconds later, someone exchanges the saucer in my hand for a broom handle. It's Annika. Her cheeks are glowing deep red, her jaw muscles tense. "Have fun cleaning up."
I keep my gaze fixed on the floor as I sweep up every single shard. It's better than looking at the faces of the café visitors who are loudly amused by my clumsiness. I take my time to ensure it's done properly, but when I stand in front of Annika afterward, I don't feel good at all.
"We should have our final conversation." She leans against the counter and doesn't seem inclined to sit down with me .
Suddenly, I don't know what to do with my hands. They don't find a good position; they just hang beside my thighs. Why did I wear the orange leggings today instead of the floral ruffled skirt with deep pockets?
"You're great, Maya. Your cheerful and carefree nature has brought a lot of color to the café. I also like your style." She smiles at me. That's good! "I thought you did a great job interacting with the guests."
I can feel my cheeks getting warm. "Thank you, that means a lot," I say, trying to keep my legs still.
She takes a loud breath. "But unfortunately, the job is not right for you," she says, exhaling all the air from her mouth. "You can't keep up with the pace here. And you make too many mistakes."
That's just because the stupid coffee machine gave me pressure. Just like Annika.
"I would hire you as a server. But the way you handle the cups, disaster is inevitable." Her expression suddenly becomes businesslike. "It was nice meeting you." And that's it for us , her facial expression adds without words.
I force the corners of my mouth upward. "No problem," I say even though that's not the truth. Because dammit, it is a problem.
Where else am I supposed to work? Do I have to go back to working night shifts at the shoe factory? Sleepless nights, sore fingers, and argumentative coworkers included?
Feeling dejected, I leave the café and step onto the street. The afternoon sun blinds me, so with a quick motion, I pull my hat lower over my face and look to the right, then to the left.
So here I am again. Somewhere in nowhere. Pondering, I reach into my handbag for my phone and the black card with the golden inscription.
Maybe I can start by just signing the confidentiality agreement. And if it turns out that nothing is as Tamika portrayed it, I can still step back from the position. But can I really be sure she's telling the truth?
I can't. Yet what I just categorically ruled out may be the best chance I have left.
Should I do it, even though it could be the biggest mistake of my life?
I twist the card in my hand. "Come on, Maya. How else will you pay your bills?" I admonish myself because my father's voice remains silent just when I need it most. "No matter how bad the job is, you just have to endure a few weeks. With the salary, you can even build up a small reserve."
That's true. But for what purpose? To buy time to find another job that I'll be just as bad at as all the others?
Dammit. I don't know. I don't know anything. Only that without this job, I'll have even less than with it. What choice do I have, really?
None.
So I do it. I take a deep breath and dial the number with trembling fingers.