Patreon Story: The Tutor, Part Two
Part Two
Did this girl live in a mansion??
I grew up in a small house in the suburbs, so I wasn’t sure where the line was between ‘big house’ and ‘mansion.’ But for all intents and purposes, that’s what it felt like when approaching the Alodia’s property. Aside from the huge white house being impressive, the front yard and surrounding greenery were expansive and well maintained, and I found myself driving up one of those long, semi-circle driveways that I had only ever seen in movies.
If Annabelle’s parents hadn’t explained how they wanted another girl, and one closer to her age, I would have been more surprised when approaching the house. Why not just hire an army of tutors for the girl? They could probably afford one professional from every field if they wanted to. Instead, they chose me. And, while it was flattering, it was also incredibly intimidating.
I had barely stepped out of my car when I heard someone call out to me. “Ms. Moore?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I said. Turning towards the voice, I saw a girl who looked to be around my age standing just outside the front door. “Are you Annabelle?” The moment the question escaped my lips, I realized how wrong I was. The girl was dressed in black and white, appearing more like a maid than what any normal teenage girl would dress like. Even a wealthy one.
“No, ma’am,” she said, “I’m Trixie. I apologize for the inconvenience, but can you please pull around to the back? Employees are supposed to use the side door.”
Oh.
So, one of those households. It wasn’t quite a ‘servant door,’ but it had a similar vibe. Whatever flattery I felt just a few moments ago waned as I realized that my first visit here didn’t warrant ‘guest’ status. I was getting paid to be here; therefore I was an employee. It wasn’t necessarily insulting, as this was a completely different world than I had ever experienced, but I was definitely taken aback.
“Umm, sure,” I replied, “Should I just let myself in?” None of these details were included in the latest message from Annabelle’s mother. If I was relegated to the side door, was I allowed to roam the unfamiliar house until I found the girl? Or was I to be escorted? So many questions.
Thankfully, Trixie was familiar with the routine. “I’ll meet you down there,” she said, “And I’ll inform Ms. Annabelle that you’re here.”
After getting the simple directions from the girl, and thanking her, I got back in my car. It was simple enough to find the side road that led to the back of the property. I parked next to the rest of the cars that were hidden behind a clever facade that obscured my vision of the house until I walked around the thick bushes and towards the side door. While I had never experienced such a lavish lifestyle, nor had any friends that were this wealthy, it was pretty easy to connect the dots. Less impressive cars were hidden away so guests socializing on the back deck didn’t have to deal with the eyesore.
But who was I to judge? Trixie and I were probably here for very similar reasons–Money that was impressive to us, but pennies to the Alodia’s. If I was being paid this much to tutor, I imagine she was here because it was more lucrative than some hotel or waitress position.
I didn’t have to knock. As I neared the small side door, Trixie propped it open for me. “Shoes off, please,” she said, “Then you can follow me.”
It didn’t escape my attention that the young maid, assuming that was her role, was wearing shoes herself. Maybe they were indoor-only shoes, as her black flats were spotless. I was wearing flats too, as I had somewhat dressed up for my first tutoring session. If I was being paid this much, the least I could do is look professional. My current footwear was a lot more clean than my sneakers, for example, but I guess I had still just worn the flats outside.
I did what Trixie said, awkwardly balancing with my backpack over just one shoulder, and carefully stepped one at a time out of my flats.
The cool tile on my feet made me feel a little bit self conscious, as my ensemble was now missing something. It’s not like I hadn’t done study sessions barefoot around friends before, but this was different in so many ways. It was a new job, a first impression, and a girl who had probably grown up with the ability to snap her fingers and have anything she wanted. Part of me wished I had worn a gala-worthy dress instead of a simple skirt and blouse. That ship had long sailed, however, and I couldn’t help but be curious what rich girls wore on Saturday. Would Annabelle be dressed down, or look absolutely perfect?
I wouldn’t have to wonder for too long. Trixie led me down the side hallway, where I spotted a laundry room and a mini kitchen along the way. For staff to work invisibly while the Alodia family and guests were going about their business? The door at the end of the hall opened into a more impressive kitchen, and it was only when I stepped onto the marble floor in yet another long hallway that another thought crossed my mind.
Was I supposed to address my student as ‘Ms. Annabelle?’
That would be beyond weird. Especially since I’d be sitting and teaching her for a full ninety minutes, while Trixie probably came and went with much shorter interactions. I guess some private school teachers did that in their classes, but it’s like nothing I had personally experienced in high school or university life so far.
I was about to ask the girl guiding me, but it was too late.
“Ms. Annabelle?” Trixie said, a few paces ahead of me as she turned a corner, “Your personal tutor is here.”
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