The Nanny He Never Wanted

I freeze mid-step, almost dropping the pot I was holding, as another violent knock echoed through our small apartment “Open this door!”. My stomach drops as Mr. Smith's voice comes after another loud bang. Daniel looks up from the worn out table where he sat working on a school project, his pencil hanging mid-air on hearing our landlord's voice. “Is it him again?”, Daniel asks quietly. I visibly swallow, trying to figure out what to do. “Stay here, I'll be right back”. I say quickly. The knock comes again, this time louder, sharper and more impatient. “Claire Williams, I know you're inside, together with your silly brother.” I wipe my hands clean on my skirt and rush forward to the door before he could start drawing attention from the neighbors again, just like he did the last time. Not like it mattered, the neighbors always found a way to eavesdrop every time. I pull the door open and see Mr. Smith standing there, his hand raised in the air like he was about to bang on the door again. He stood there, irritated, with a folded paper in his other hand. Behind him, I could already see the neighbors peeking like a show was about to begin. “Good morning, Mr. Smith,” I say carefully. He doesn't bother with giving my greeting a response, instead he shoves the paper he's holding into my hands. “I've had enough, and I've given you more than enough time.” I don't bother looking at the paper to see its contents, already knowing what it was. I hope he couldn't tell how bad my hands were shaking as I held on to the paper like it was a death sentence. It may as well be one. “What is this?”, already knowing the answer, but just asking anyway. “That is your final notice,” he says flatly. My breath catches in my throat, like hearing him say it makes it more real. “I know you've been patient, Mr. Smith, but I told you, I just need more time and I'll get your money to you soon.” “You've had time, Claire!,” he snaps, “Months of it. I've given you more time because I tried to sympathize with your situation.” I lower my gaze at his statement, looking at the paper . I feel Daniel's presence behind me now, standing quietly in the dining doorway, watching the scene unfold. “That's your brother right?” “Yes”, I say, answering quickly. Something flickers in his face, but before I could pinpoint what it was, it disappears just as fast as it had appeared. “You have seventy-two hours, Claire. Three days and then you'll leave me no other choice than to force you packing out of my house.” My head snaps up at his statement. “What? That's too short”. “Seventy-two hours,” he repeats, “Pay up or vacate the building. No more excuses.” the words don't feel real, and it takes me time to process. “Mr. Smith please—” “I'm done listening.” “I can pay part of it next week, if you'll just give me time.” “Next week? If I remember correctly, that was the exact same thing you said to me last week and the week before that.” I feel the tears gather in my eyes. “I'm trying, Mr. Smith, I really am.” “Trying doesn't matter and it definitely doesn't pay the bills.” I feel Daniel watching from behind me and I see the stares my neighbors were already giving me. I will myself not to look at Daniel, because doing that will make me lose my already strained control and the last thing I need is to become a crying mess in front of my neighbors and landlord. “Read it carefully.” Mr Smith says, pointing at the notice in my hand and then he turns to leaves. I stand frozen at the doorway, staring at his retreating back and his echoing footsteps until they completely disappear from the hallway. Behind me, Daniel speaks softly, “Claire?”. I turn to face him, forcing a smile on my face, so much that it hurts. “It's fine”, I say, trying to make it sound believable, even to myself. It was a lie, but I had become very good at lying that it didn't matter, especially when it came to him. By midday, the air in the apartment felt different. I had tried putting some things together but eventually gave up. I sat on one of the wobbly stools at the dining, the eviction notice spread in front of me, like a wound that I couldn't close. My phone and laptop were open besides the letter, as I kept refreshing my email. Again and again. The job interview I had attended yesterday had gone better than I had expected. The manager at the hotel had smiled at me throughout the interview as I answered questions. He had asked questions that were encouraging. At the end of the interview, he had said, “We’ll be in touch with you soon.” The hope that came with the statement had been the only thing carrying me throughout the morning, through the fear of eviction and through Daniel's quiet questions that he couldn't ask. Now, I stared at my empty inbox, yet nothing.My legs were already bouncing uncontrollably under the table, no matter how much I tried to stop it. The panic in my heart was already growing and I was sure my neighbors could hear how loud my heartbeat was. Just then, Daniel walks into the dining room. “You've been sitting there for hours, sis.” “I'm fine.” I answer automatically. He doesn't answer, instead he walks over to where I was, looking at the paper and my laptop and then back at me. “You know I can help, right. I'm old enough to get a job now.” he says. Hearing him say it out loud was like hearing my heart shatter. “There's nothing that needs your help here. The day I need your help, I'll let you know.” I say smiling. He frowns at my statement, as though not convinced. “But—” “But nothing, Daniel. Go wash up or you'll be late for tutoring.” He doesn't move. “Claire.” “Daniel.” He nods slowly and walks away. By evening, I could feel it. The feeling of my life falling apart, and how I could do nothing to stop it from happening. I had already concluded that they were not going to get back to me, but I still stupidly had hope, after all the day had not ended. I watched Daniel as he stayed quietly on the couch, reading. The lingering thought that we had nowhere to go in the next three days was now at the fire if my mind. Just as I was about throwing a self-pity party, the sound of my email notification jolts me back to reality. I smile and immediately open it. I read the heading of the email: Interview Outcome. I go on to read the first line: ‘Thank you for your interest in the position. But we regret informing you….’. I stopped myself from reading any further, the rest of the words had become blurry anyways. My fingers tremble as I gently let the phone down, before it falls. Daniel was already looking at me by the time I raised my head, and from the look he was getting from my face, I watched as the hope in his eyes die a slow death. I stare at him, then at the apartment and then at the eviction notice that laid in front of us. We had 72 hours till eviction, no stable source of income and an empty account. We were doomed.