When I finally got the job offer, I screamed, high-pitched and overwhelmed with excitement.
I remember the exact moment the call came. Sometimes I wish I’d never answered the phone.
I was sitting on the couch next to my girlfriend in our tiny apartment above the streets of San Francisco. We’d been sorting through bills, trying to set up our monthly budget with impossible math, our bank accounts never matched up to the constant costs of being alive.
“…ok, so if we put this much for your student loans, and this much for my car, that includes my payment and insurance ok…after we pay rent and electric, that leaves us with…..exactly $69 each for the next two weeks.”
Jamie couldn’t help herself, I saw the shadow of worry flash across her face, but then she turned and grabbed me, tickling me.
“I’ll show you a 69!”
Our wrestling turned into kissing, then my phone rang, disturbing us.
“I’m sorry babe, just let me see if it’s that lady from up north, ok?”
Jamie groaned in disappointment but rolled off me and handed me my phone, getting up.
“Ohhh shit it’s her!!” I squawked excitedly.
Jamie was already in the kitchen, digging through the fridge, “You got this babe!” She called back, I heard her clinking plates and silverware.
I’d been interviewing for this position for a couple months, the last time I spoke with this woman was weeks ago, so I’d figured I didn’t get the position. It was such a perfect job though, I wanted to hold out a little hope.
Being a private chef, I’m used to an in-depth interview process. The type who hire private chefs are usually some sort of famous, and always some sort of wealthy, so I understand that they don’t want just anyone coming into their home and preparing their food. But this woman had not only requested references and fingerprints, she also wanted to know my blood type, any medications I took, and my medical history for the last five years.
I’d never had a potential client ask such personal information, but the pay was insane, so I entertained her. She offered me $10K for seven days, five days of service and two prep days, three meals a day, for thirteen people. This was over twice the going rate of my clients in the city, and I didn’t have anything too interesting on my medical history. Having O-negative blood is probably the most exciting thing in there, otherwise I’ve been healthy the last few years. I’d stopped taking my antidepressant six months after I met Jamie, years ago now, so have at it, I guess?
I emailed her everything she requested, and after our third Zoom call she said she needed a bit of time to make her decision, the event she was hiring for was “of utmost importance” to her, so I crossed my fingers and returned to my daily chaos. She lived a couple hours drive up the coast, between Mendocino and Fort Bragg. Jamie wasn’t crazy about me driving deep into the woods and staying for a week in an isolated area with strangers, but we needed that money, bad.
“Hi Dolores! Great to hear from you, how are you doing?” I answered the phone in customer service mode.
“Hello, Sabina. I am well, thank you.” Dolores’s voice is deep and smoky, she sounded much younger and a bit more sultry on the phone, the first time we talked on Zoom I was surprised to see a women who looked at least in her mid-60s. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Absolutely Dolores, you caught me at a perfect time.” Jamie hears this as she walks out of the kitchen to offer me half her sandwich, she pretends to pull the plate away then flips me off playfully.
“Wonderful. I’ve given a lot of thought to choosing the perfect chef for this event. Like I expressed to you before, the gathering that I am hosting is incredibly important, and it is imperative that everyone involved is the perfect fit for the occasion. After careful consideration, I’ve decided that your…culinary skills will be exactly what the moment calls for.”
“Oh, wow, thats great!” I was so happy to hear that she was hiring me, I ignored her pause, she was in her golden years after all. “I look forward to serving you and your guests! I’m not sure if you mentioned, what type of event are you hosting?”
“It’s a family reunion, dear.”
I glossed over the pet name and we went over details, menu preferences, grocery budget, themes. This lady really had waited until the last minute, she wanted me up there in ten days. I’d never planned this large of a menu in such a short time, but I’d also never been offered this much money before, so I swallowed any anxiety and told her that wouldn’t be a problem.
“One last thing Sabina, dear. Absolutely no saffron in any of the dishes. Under no circumstances should any saffron even enter my home, I abhor the scent of it. Nothing, NOTHING, with saffron, understand?”
“Writing that down now, Dolores,” I cringed at the pet name again, her dramatic tone, “Any other food allergies I should be aware of?”
“Just the saffron, otherwise you have nothing to worry about. I’ll send you half your payment now along with the grocery budget, then I’ll give you the other half upon completion, does that work for you, dear?”
Seconds after I got off the phone with Dolores, the auto-text from my banking app dinged, letting me know I had received her first payment.
“Jamie! Baby! JAMIE BABE BABE!!” I ran into the bedroom and jumped on top of her, bear hugging her ferociously. She dropped her book and I kissed her, grabbed her face, “GUESS WHAT?”
“Chicken butt.” God I love her so much, she has her masters degree, she works in child psychology, she’s so smart, but she still has the humor of a thirteen year old boy.
“I got the job!!” I’m flushed with excitement, still holding on to her face, rubbing my nose on hers, I kiss her forehead and sit back. “I got the FREAKING job! We can finally get ahead of our bills now, we can pay our rent for months, and have some money left over! She already sent half of my pay!”
“I’m so proud of you babe. I knew you’d get the job. You’re amazing at cooking, you pour your heart into it. You deserve this.” Jamie’s eyes watered just a bit, “You know what this means?”
“…Rock Bar?”
“You bet your ass Rock Bar! Now go put on a slutty dress, because I’m going to make out with you on top of the pool table.”
We walked down to our favorite neighborhood dive bar, we drank a few too many whiskeys, we danced and laughed and sure enough kissed on the pool table, we felt so close, so happy, so hopeful, so in love.
My next ten days past by in a rapid blur. Grocery stores, night meat markets, morning farmers markets, searching for the perfect spices (but never saffron) sweating over the stove, experimenting to find the perfect recipes, Jamie happily chowing down all my rejects, me in a frenzy, sautéing and mixing and measuring and baking, adjusting temperatures by single degrees attempting to achieve perfection.
The morning I leave to Dolores’s comes far too quickly, I wake up in a cold sweat. My breath is caught in my chest, like I was having a nightmare where I was trying to scream. I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, all I remember is an image of a something long, low, slinky and grayish-white, running in the dark. My heavy breathing wakes up Jamie, and she nuzzles into me.
“You’re going to do great today, baby. I’m so excited for you…wow you’re sweaty. Lets, uhm, go shower, yeah?”
I’m triple checking that I have every single ingredient and cooler packed into the car, I’m not missing any essential cookware, anything liquid or fragile is securely packed away. I’m sure the anxiety is shimmering around me like heat waves over asphalt. Jamie sneaks up behind me and wraps her arms around me, the way she giggles when she startles me makes it impossible to be upset.
“I packed you a care package, because I know even though your car is filled to the brim with food, you probably didn’t bring a single snack for yourself.”
She hands me her favorite lunchbox, an old Spice Girls tin from the 90’s, it feels heavy, she packed it full. I crack it open, on top of the pile of snacks there is a Polaroid photo of us on our on one of our first dates, she wrote “Love you to the moon <3” on the back. I’m doing my best not cry, it’s only a week after all.
“Drive super duper safe, ok?? The roads up in the redwoods get all curvy and slippery and crazy, ok? Then you look to your right and it’s just a straight cliff drop into the ocean, so I don’t want to hear anything about you looking at the scenery, only the road, got it!?”
She wraps her arms around me tighter, I smell her perfume, notes of jasmine, sandalwood, vetiver, saffron. I never want to leave this embrace. Time refuses to stop for us, and we say our goodbyes and I get in my car. She starts walking downtown, towards her office, then I drive in the opposite direction, making my way up, out of the city, towards Dolores.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I wish I had known this might be the final goodbye I ever say to Jamie. Or at least that Jamie. The Jamie I loved so deeply, the Jamie who packed me lunch boxes, fell asleep with her head on my shoulder on the bus, or wrote dirty jokes on napkins to pass to me at boring functions, the Jamie who really knew me. She never forgot a cause for celebration, or a bad day, and prepared for both. I would have held her so much closer, told I love her a thousand times, promised her I’ll always find her again, across any lifetime or any dimension, I’ll never let her go.
I don’t know where that Jamie went, I miss her so much. All I know is that whatever I’ve been talking to since I arrived at Dolores’s house, that’s not Jamie. It’s nothing like her at all.
I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Sometimes it’s hard to think straight up here, Dolores says that it’s the fresh sea breeze clearing me of all the toxins from the city. That sounds nice, but I don’t feel clear at all. Forgive me, let me get back to where we were, the drive up to Dolores’s property. It really is so beautiful in these woods.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The drive up was both stunning and scary, breathtaking scenery on narrow, winding roads. I took it slow, to be careful, thinking about Jamie. The sun was sitting low on the horizon when I finally found the dirt road that lead up to Dolores’s property, I let out a deep exhale before turning off the single lane highway and further into the woods. I’m driving around 10MPH at most, slow creeping my way up this tiny bumpy road, the further I get the thicker the tree cover is. I’m so close to scraping trees on both sides, and the road keeps curving sharply, so I turn on my headlights.
My headlights lit up something to my left, a bit in front of the car, but alongside it, like it was heading in the same direction I was. It had sickly pale, grayish greasy looking skin, it looked almost like a giant furless ferret, or a snake with very short legs, some kind of massive grayish-white lizard maybe, it was at least 6 feet long. It was low to the ground but moved effortlessly, as soon as I turned my lights on it let out a sharp hiss and slithered away into the forest, in a second it was gone.
I don’t know what I saw. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding crazy. I really want to tell myself I was just tired from the drive and it was dark, it was hard to see. They must have some crazy species up here I’ve never seen as a city girl. I haven’t mentioned it to Dolores yet, I’m still trying to recover from my first big mistake at this job. I don’t want to do anything else dumb.
When I finally pulled into the clearing in front of Dolores’s house, I already knew it would be a mansion, but my jaw dropped when I saw this place. A sprawling victorian stood in front of me, porches wrapping around to the ocean view in the front, several stories of turrets and gables perched on the edge of the cliff, towering over the sea. I park my car by the front door, and take a few more deep breaths before knocking.
Dolores herself answers the door, she is taller than I guessed, probably six feet and several inches. Her blonde hair is curled neatly at her shoulders, she has a ruby red ribbon headband over her bangs, and ruby red lipstick to match. At first she has a beaming smile,
“Why hello dear, so glad to see you! I hope the drive up wasn’t too difficult?”
“Not at all ma’am, it was beautiful. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person!”
I extend my hand to shake, but instead Dolores grabs me into a tight hug. I awkwardly pat her back in return, she doesn’t loosen her grip, instead leans into me, smelling deeply, almost like an animal would sniff. Then she releases me so quickly it feels like she shoved me away, and her smile has turned to a scowl.
“Sabina, what did I tell you about saffron?”
She’s glaring daggers at me, pursing her lips like an irritated parent who is trying their hardest to be gentle. I remember that she told me absolutely no saffron, but I haven’t brought any, I was careful about that. I’m searching my brain while she locks her eyes on me, then it clicks, Jamie’s perfume. Fuck, fuck, shit, whoops, she must have a really strong sense of smell.
“Oh my goodness, Dolores, I’m so sorry, that’s uhm, that was my girlfriends perfume, she hugged me before I left, uhm, oh I’m sorry I didn’t even think of that, I’m so sorry…”
Dolores lifts up her open palm, then clenches it shut in a motion I take to mean ‘shut up now’.
“We have an outdoor shower by the pool, I’ll have one of the maids escort you there now. Leave any clothing contaminated with that stench in your car, then you may start unloading into the kitchen.”
A demure young woman in a maid’s uniform come outside a few minutes later, she keeps her eyes downcast and never meets mine.
“This way please, ma’am.”
I follow her across the immaculate green lawn to the far side of the house, where there is a pool surrounded by cabanas and Mediterranean landscaping. It looks like a five-star hotel.
“The shower is in here, ma’am.”
She leads me to a cedar hut with a shower and a steam room.
“You don’t have to call me ma’am, it’s fine, I’m just the chef, my name’s Sabina, whats yours?”
“Thats alright ma’am. I’ll show you to the kitchen once you’ve finished.”
She hurries away without ever looking up. They don’t take this whole ‘formal’ thing lightly, I think, as I wash any last hint of Jamie off of my skin.
Hours later, I’ve finally finished unloading everything, prepping it as needed, and re-packaging it to store in the massive walk-in fridge. I take a moment to look at my phone for the first time since I got here, it’s already 11:40pm. I wasn’t sure if Dolores was the type to sit around and watch the help on the cameras, but like any person with this kind of home, I was sure that she had them.
No service, of course. My cell service had cut out about an hour before I reached the dirt road up to Dolores’s, I felt a bit silly for hoping it would come back. She must have Wi-Fi, I’ve talked to her on Zoom. I hadn’t even let Jamie know that I’d arrived safe and sound, I’d been so embarrassed by the perfume incident I was focused on unpacking at full speed, trying to stay busy.
I walk out of the kitchen, looking for a maid to ask about Wi-Fi. I’d seen several young women hurrying around in identical maid’s uniforms, always with their eyes pointed at the floor, speaking in soft hushed voices. As I’m wandering down the hall away from the kitchen, a maid comes out of one of the heavy wooden doors, quickly shutting it behind her. I startle her by being there, she gasps slightly but not enough to drop any of the dirty dishes on her tray.
“Oh my god I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, my bad. My name’s Sabina, I’m the chef Dolores hired for her event. Do you know the login info for the Wi-Fi? I just want to let me girlfriend know I made it up here ok…”
I trail off because for the first time, this maid is looking at me directly, eyes locked on mine. She looks angry, maybe scared?
“We don’t use that word here. The lady of the manor doesn’t like it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry…what word was that? Just, so, I know?”
The maid mouthed G - O - D, then glared at me again before turning and walking quickly towards the kitchen.
Okay, well, that was weird. Don’t say God. Don’t use saffron. Got it, I guess? Let’s hope ‘don’t use the Wi-Fi’ is not also one of Dolores’s weird rules. I keep walking down the hall towards the grand entrance, praying to run into someone less cranky than the last maid. The dimly lit hallway eventually opens up to lead into the entryway. The entryway is grand, three stories of curving mahogany staircases, plush red carpet running up them, a hefty crystal chandelier hanging in the open space. There are two guards standing sternly by the front door now. They hadn’t been there before when I was unloading the car, but I had finished unloading during the twilight, I hadn’t been out this way since it got dark.
“Hello!” I wave at them, “I’m Sabina, I’m the chef working Dolores’s family reunion. Nice to meet you?”
Fortunately one of the guards snaps out of his statuesque position, he walks towards me and extends his hand.
“Hello ma’am, my name is Oliver, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Dolores asked me to escort you to your room after you were done in the kitchen. Do you need to retrieve any items from your vehicle?”
“Yeah, I just need to grab a couple bags, I didn’t want to bring my personal stuff in the kitchen.”
I move to open the front door, but Oliver blocks my hand.
“I will escort you, ma’am. There are many dangerous creatures here, especially at night.”
“Oh yeah, like wolves and stuff. I didn’t even think of that, I’m born and raised in San Francisco.”
“Yes ma’am, like wolves.”
Oliver opens the door and follows me closely to my car. I rummage around, grab my suitcase and the lunchbox Jamie packed for me, then I spin around to find Oliver standing directly behind me. I almost let out a surprised ‘Jesus!’ but I remember that might fall under the ‘don’t say god’ thing. Even using the Lord’s name in vain is not cool here?
“Do you have your things? We should go back inside now, ma’am.”
“Yes, let’s go. You don’t have to call me ma’am, Oliver. Sabina is fine.”
Oliver nodded, but didn’t say anything. He grabbed my suitcase and I followed him inside, up the stairs to the second floor. He brings me to a guest room, past a hallway of closed doors. I’m stunned by the room, it’s luxurious by service quarters standards. There’s a fireplace, a queen bed with red velvet blankets and crisp white sheets, a sink and clawfoot tub in the corner, with a full length mirror beside it. Tall windows look out directly over the cliff, a clear view of the hundred plus foot drop into the rocky sea.
“Wait, Oliver, one question before you leave? Do you know the login for the Wi-Fi? I just want to let my girlfriend know I’m ok.”
Oliver gestures towards the desk in the room, and I see a handwritten note that looks like Wi-Fi info.
“Dolores left that for you, ma’am. Good night.”
“Thanks Oliver…”
By the time I turn around, he’s already gone. I see the note has a Wi-Fi login, just the name and the password, nothing else personal at all. So I immediately text Jamie, letting her know that these people up here are especially quirky, even for rich people, but I’m doing great, it’s gorgeous up here, I miss her tons. It’s after midnight now, so I’m sure that she’s asleep.
I run the bath as I undress, I’m about to step in when my phone chimes. It’s a text from Jamie, but all it says is,
“Thats good.”
Usually she writes a paragraph about her day, I’m sure I woke her up and she’s sending this mostly asleep. I respond that I love her lots, I’m about to get in the bath, I’ll find a time to video call her tomorrow. Almost immediately she responds,
“Good night.”
I sink into the bathtub, not worrying about her unusually short responses, letting the warm water soften my sore body. I’m starving after my bath so I take a look at what Jamie packed me, but first I take out our picture and set it on the nightstand. She packed all my favorites, trail mix, salt & vinegar chips, hi-chews, a ham and cheese croissant, a homemade BLT, and a cup of fruit. There’s no mini-fridge in the room, everything seems true to victorian design, so I eat the BLT and set the fruit cup out for dessert.
I sat down to write this, because I’m feeling a little creeped out here, but I’m sure that there are rational explanations for everything. I figured it might help to record my experiences here, to make sense of them I guess? Always helps to write things down, just in case. And the weirdest thing just happened too, as I was writing this I grabbed a handful of fruit, then almost vomited when I put it in my mouth.
I’m a chef, it’s my job to look at food, I can see the tiniest speck of mold in a box of blueberries, so I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen this before. The entire fruit cup was sickly soft with rot, decaying and covered in mold. I swear it was normal when I took it out of the lunchbox. I should be ashamed of myself for missing something that bad. I ran to the sink and rinsed out my mouth, heaving.
Anyway, it’s late, and I need to get up at the crack of dawn to start prepping this feast, so I’ll update more the next chance I get. If you see Jamie, tell her I love her.