"He took you out for dinner?" Jane ( The house-maid) asked me surprised. She has worked in this mansion long before I arrived, even before Mr Ahmed was born. Which makes her really old.  She's the sweetest lady I have ever met. It's almost like she's apart of this family, as she has lived here for more than a decade. Jane has smoky-grey hair, wise eyes and an angelic smile. She has such a fragile and flattering voice. I love talking to her.

"No he was only going to take Imad. Then Imad said he won't go unless Mr Ahmed also takes me. We went to a really fancy restaurant," I explained while washing the fresh fruits in the sink.

"So what did you have?" She asked.

"Nothing, I didn't have anything. I wasn't hungry and Mr Ahmed ordered for everything, didn't even ask Imad what he wanted. He ordered sparkling water for a six year old. Honestly Jane it was..." I turned around only to see Mr Ahmed by the door. My heart literally skipped a beat. I bit my lip nervously and looked down at the floor.

He cleared his throat and walked out of the kitchen. "Jane why didn't you say anything? He is so going to fire me," I whispered —scared he might hear me.

"Well I tried coughing, but you were so indulged in your storytelling that you didn't hear me," Jane explained.

"Oh Jane what am I going to do?"

"Well the right thing to do is to apologize. But knowing Mr Ahmed I don't think he cares," she said.

"Let me go check on Imad. He should be getting ready for school now," I said and left the kitchen. Mr Ahmed was standing by the stairs, on a call. I walked carefully past him. Praying that he doesn't notice me.

"Layla," A gruff voice called out my name. As I was climbing the second step. I stopped and turned.

"Yes?"

"Is Imad ready for school?" He asked — for the very first in my three years of working here. Mr Ahmed asked me about his nephew.

"I am on my way to check on him. He is supposed to be ready for school by now," I replied.

"That's all," he said.

"Um Sir... I am sorry about what happened earlier."

"Okay," he replied and walked away. Well thank goodness that's over. I went to Imad's room and he was already dressed.

"Ready for school?" I asked him.

"Yes. Guess what Layla? Uncle Ahmed just told me we are going to Barcelona to watch a soccer match in a stadium!" He yelled excitedly. Mr Ahmed was in Imad's room, but why did he ask me about him if he already knew he was ready for school. Why is he taking Imad all the way to Barcelona?

"Really? When will you go?"

"This weekend!" he said, while putting on his school bag. "I can't wait to tell all my friends at school." He ran out of the room.

"Don't forget to take your breakfast!" I yelled.

"Okay," He yelled back. I started cleaning his room and making it tidy. When I went back downstairs, Imad had finished taking his breakfast. I hugged him and he left for school with the driver. Now is usually when I get my rest, me time. As I was taking the laundry upstairs, Mr Ahmed's mum comes out of her room, (Madam Samia Damari).

"You girl! How come I have never seen you before? Who are you?" She spoke in a loud voice. Mr Ahmed's mum has Alzheimer's, she was diagnosed with the sickness a few weeks after Imad's parents died. She doesn't remember many people, nor what she does - after twenty four hours. I feel bad for her, Madam Samia is made to sit in her bedroom doing nothing. The nurse does everything for her — feed her, dress her and help her move around. All the ordinary things we can do, she can't. What makes it worse is that her own five children don't bother talking to her nor ask about her. It's like she's dead to them. Her husband died a long time ago, when Mr Ahmed was one years old. So she has no one...

"Alanisat Samia, aismi Layla wa'ahtam bihafidik - Imad [Miss Samia, my name is Layla and I take care of your grandson — Imad]," and everyday when we meet I have to introduce myself in Arabic because that's her mother tongue. Though she replies in english.

"Layla? You are Ahmed's wife, yes?" She says.

"No I work for him," I replied.

"But I came for your wedding and you looked so beautiful," she said while walking over to me.

"It was your daughter-in-law Lamya who married your son Talal," I said to her. Maybe she mixed up the names — I thought to myself.

" 'ana alkalb, [That dog]. She's a witch!" She started screaming.

"No no, she's your daughter-in-law and she loves..." I stopped talking, it would be a lie if I said they loved her. I kept the basket of laundry down and hugged her. "Allah sawf yakfi lak [God will suffice you]," I told her.

"Ameen," she replied. She started crying. It hurts me to see her like this, all she wants is some kind of love from her own family. I mean she doesn't even remember who she is. Jane told me she was the most joyful and kindhearted woman she had ever met.

"Let's go to your room, to rest," I told her. I took her back to her room. She laid on her bed and immediately fall asleep. Before she went sleep, she told me she wants to talk to her last born son (Mr Ahmed).

***
Thanks for reading.✨