The hailstorm was horrible and my daughter was crying.
We had just dropped our new cleaning lady off 15 minutes earlier. I wondered if she was still standing in that terribly long line at the taxi spot. I would have loved to go back and collect her, but could not risk driving in the storm. So, I called her. There was no response.
When she returned to work the next morning, I asked her about the storm. She smiled and said that it was “not so bad.”
I was relieved.
As I was driving out, I saw a woman approach my door. She was carrying a medical kit. I was intrigued. So, I waited and watched. She went inside my house and did not come out.
I recognized her right away. She was that nosey neighbour who walked around the hood with a notebook, marking down things that had nothing to do with her (like cars parked in the wrong spots, or bins put out on the wrong day).
I waited another 30 seconds, expecting her to emerge, after realising she was at the wrong house. When she didn’t, I had to go and take a look. The domestic worker was lying on the couch, covered by a blanket. The neighbour lady was making some tea for her. I was frozen. I just watched, as though transfixed in a movie scene.
The neighbour was there to “treat” her for “shock and anxiety”. I said “Oh really? Why?” to which the lady replied “Yes, that storm really shook her up, poor thing.”
I could not stand to watch the movie any longer. I just shook my head.
I had no idea that the neighbour knew the cleaner.
I had no idea why the cleaner had put an SOS through to her and when.
I had no idea that the cleaner would let a stranger (to me) into our home and allow her to go into my kitchen to use my cups to throw a tea party in my absence.
I needed treatment for “shock and anxiety”.
So, I got into my car and drove to my sister for some “tea”.
© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.
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