What Walter Never Reads

If you are reading this, it means Walter trusted you enough to let you step inside the broom closet. Or maybe he did not notice at all. Either way, welcome. My name is Holly, and this notebook is not meant for me anymore. It is meant for you.

You and I will probably never meet. That is how this job works. Girls come and go quietly, like seasons. But I remember how lost I felt on my first day here, standing in the hallway with my coat still on, wondering if I had already done something wrong. I wish someone had left me instructions. So I am leaving them for you.

The fact that you found this notebook means it is Wednesday. It is always Wednesday when someone new starts. Walter must have guided you here before you even had time to shut the front door. This is the only room he never enters. The shelf is too high for him to reach from his chair. That is why this notebook is safe.

I will write this the way I learned it. Slowly. Carefully. With mistakes.

Wednesdays matter more than you think. You will mop all the floors first thing in the morning. Unscented detergent only. Do not touch the lemon one, no matter how old or tempting it looks. I made that mistake once. I never made it again. Dust everything. Every surface. Even the top of the big clock. Especially the clock. On the first Wednesday of every third month, wash the windows too. I do not know why. I only know it matters.

I think his late wife, Linda, used to clean on Wednesdays. He called me Linda once. My name is not Linda. He did not apologize. I did not correct him.

Thursdays are for the library. Not the big one in the city center. He hates it now. He goes to the small one across town. Always check the sitting room table for books before leaving. If you forget them, you will drive all the way back home and then all the way there again. Being late returning a book upsets him more than anything else.

After the library comes the pharmacy and the weekly food shopping. On the way home, stop at the small French bakery around the corner. Or at least try. It closed while I worked here. When that happened, I baked bread myself. I was terrible at it. He ate it anyway and said nothing. That was one of the kindest things he ever did.

Fridays are easier. Supper is at 4:30 instead of 5:30. Make something simple. Something that can be eaten in front of the TV. He watches a movie every Friday night. He might ask for recommendations. Do not be offended when he tells you your taste is awful.

Weekends are usually free. Usually. Gerald might ask you to switch days. Be flexible.

Mondays and Tuesdays have no strict schedule. Esther visits on Mondays. Or you take Walter to meet her at the park behind the nursing home if the weather is good. I do not know what they are to each other. I do not ask.

Every day is about routine. Breakfast at nine. Lunch at twelve thirty. Supper at five thirty. Polish his reading glasses and magnifier every morning. Yes, he uses both at the same time. Get the newspaper, unless he throws it into the fireplace and asks for the history magazine instead. Light the fire in colder months. YouTube will help, but he will insist on teaching you himself after you fail twice.

Food rules matter. He loves salty food. Fish. Prawns. He hates mushrooms and green grapes but loves grape juice. His favorite cake is white chocolate cheesecake. Only on specific dates. Never surprise him with it. I learned that the hard way.

He reads constantly. He loves old music, radio dramas, cards, checkers, Scrabble, crosswords. He will ask you to help him write. Pretend you believe it is for your education.

Avoid questions about his family. Avoid politics. Avoid fashion debates. Wear modest clothes. He is not a creep. He is protective in his own strange way.

Safe topics are books, history, travel, theater, documentaries. He was a teacher once. That explains everything.

Walter is sharp. Stubborn. Lonely. Softer than he wants anyone to know.

His wife was named Linda. She used lemon detergent. That bottle stays.

If you are here now, it means I am gone. I am going back to school. I want to be a teacher too.

Please be patient with him.

Please be kind.

Good luck,

Holly