I have just turned eighteen and my name is Patricia. I tried to have it both ways with going to med school. I would be able to take over the family's pharmacy, which would be quite boring, and engage into more interesting medical research, but I kinda flunked the entrance exam. I was put on a waiting list.
Going to the philharmonic had been too tempting. I was caught between Grandpa and Papa's pharmacy, and Maman who gave me her love of the piano.
I now had little choice, I had to be a licensed pharmacist to be able to take over the family's business. It meant pharmacy school, and moving to Montpelier. I surfed the Internet high and low, and found and interesting add, only a ten minutes bike ride from the pharmacy school.
Retiree offering room and board to a student in exchange of help for maintaining the house and garden, basic cooking required...
After having exchanged a few emails, I learned that it is about helping a widowed retired gentleman and his elderly maid. I was surprised to be told that heavy works is done by a cleaning and gardening business. I had heard about older folks who take in a student for companionship. It was worth exploring.
Before driving me to the station, Maman, with a wink, told me to wear a skirt. I winked back, I had guessed that the old gentleman would be more impressed by a girl wearing a skirt. After a two hours train journey, I rented an electric bike on arrival. I knew that a regular bike would be better for my chubbier part, but I felt lazy.
Fifteen minutes later, I discovered a mansion like suburban house with a huge and well maintained garden. 
As I locked my bike under a shed I met a muttering boy my age.
"Good luck! I didn't even see him! His old maid dismissed me. She asked how to defrost the deep-freeze compartment without turning off the fridge. I didn't know, and that was it!"
I knew about the kettle of boiling hot water in the deep-freezer, and felt confident. I climbed the few steps, and rang. The elderly maid opened. She offered an approving smile. I guessed they didn't want a boy.
"Monsieur will be with you in a few minutes, please follow me." She led me to a luxuriously furnished lounge over looking the larger back garden with a tennis court. I saw a very fit old gentleman dressed with some strange black pajama doing Japanese or Chinese gym. I imagined Yoga.
As I waited I saw two photographs on a commode. One was probably 'Monsieur' dressed with the uniform of a four star general. The other one was a forty something woman also wearing a general's uniform with two stars.
Just then I heard. "Bonjour Mademoiselle, she is my daughter, the first female fighter pilot, and youngest female general!"
The proud tone of his voice was evident, and for a millisecond I was speechless. "Bonjour Monsieur, I am Patricia."
He slowly looked me up and down, and smiled. Maman was right, wearing a skirt was a plus.
"Let me show you the room. It has its own en-suite bathroom."
We walked through another lounge with two full size pianos. I couldn't help a surprised, "OH!"
"Do you play the piano?"
I was again speechless as I discovered a large picture of a middle aged woman playing a grand piano on a concert stage.
"My late wife..."
"Je suis désolée... and yes, I do play. Maman taught me."
"She was a concert player?"
"Yes, until she married."
I visited a spacious and tastefully furnished first floor room, with a full en-suite bathroom. It looked over the lovely back garden. It was all too good to be true.
"Its superb! What am I to do for all this?"
"Light housekeeping and gardening, and..."
For a second he was silent.
"...my daughter with her husband and children have moved to Poland with NATO."
He was obviously finding it difficult to admit that he felt lonely.
I smiled. "I have no problem with helping around the house and garden."
"Adele, my maid is off on weekends, she prepares meals in advance. We would share preparing breakfast, and salads which don't keep."
"Yes, and I do know more than cooking fried eggs."
He smiled before looking stern. "Please, no boyfriends in the house."
"Oui Monsieur, and I don't have one."
"You will be going to pharmacy school."
"I first have to take the entrance exam..."
"Why pharmacy? Why not med school?"
I blushed. "I flunked it."
"Naughty girl!"
Just then Adele reminded him of her doctor's appointment. "Lunch is ready, and I'll be back around 3 pm."
He invited me for lunch, and I offered to help. I followed him into a very modern kitchen. We took the starter of asparagus salad to the dinning room. Next was chicken, and before cutting it he suggested I get an apron. "You will find one in the tall cupboard next to the fridge."
I returned to the kitchen, found the cupboard, and when taking one of the aprons, something fell down with a clang.
I saw a martinet on the floor; having had one at home, I knew what it was. As I picked it up, I realized how it must be more severe than our old one.
I returned to the dinning room to cut the chicken.
Later, on the train back home, I guessed that his daughter must have tasted that martinet more than once before achieving such a brilliant career.
Patricia
To be continued....
./.
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