Physical (4 page)

“
Anderson Norton. And
yours?”

“
Natalie
Cinderella.”

We shook hands.

“
So I’ll see you tomorrow
at five?” he asked with a sly smirk on his face.

“
Yes,” I responded in a
very firm and proper tone. “I’ll wear my best formal housewife
outfit.”

“
Good. I’m looking forward
to it. Don’t be late. First impressions are important to
me.”

I hesitantly smiled and said goodbye.

On my way home, I got butterflies in my
stomach just from thinking about the conversation and about the
meeting planned for the next day. What a strange twist of fate. I
still didn’t know much of anything about this man but his first
impression certainly impressed me. I was at a time in my life when
I was very much open to exploring new directions but this was
definitely not one of the new directions I had imagined.

I called one of my close friends who I
confide in for all of my trials and tribulations. I told her about
my chance encounter and asked her what she thought I should do. She
thought that I was crazy for meeting a man in a café, much less
agreeing to come to his home, but that it all sounded like
something she would expect from me. She asked me what I knew about
him and, of course, I told her absolutely nothing. She told me to
Google him and to call her back after I went through the first 1000
hits or so.

As soon as I got back
home, I started up my computer, typed in his name and then
nervously hit the search button while I hoped that he didn’t come
up as a serial killer. Yet, he not only came up as who he said he
was, but he proved to be even more intriguing than I had imagined.
Anderson Norton worked as Chief Executive Officer for a company
called Hellman Defense Industries, was previously a Lieutenant in
the U.S. Army, was originally from Wyoming and had attended West
Point before going off to serve in Desert Storm and a number of
other military operations. It seems he was an Assistant Professor
for a few years and I found quotes from him in a wide array of
publications from
Military Times
to
The New York
Times
. His name was listed on all sorts of
websites as a recipient of this award and that award. It seemed
like he was the picture perfect specimen of the successful military
man turned civilian. So why was he interested in some woman he met
in a French café?

I called my friend back and told her what I
had found. She was as astonished as I was but we agreed that it was
certainly safe for me to meet someone with such a public image to
protect. So I decided that that was that and I would walk into this
“interview” with the full belief that I was going to get this job.
At the very least, it would be a memorable experience. When else
would I ever get another opportunity to be hired as a housewife to
a dashing military man?

The next day, I outfitted myself in a
provocative light pink shirtwaist dress that had 1950’s housewife
written all over it. It was subtly sheer but my tiny black g-string
underneath was definitely not. I jumped into my car and headed down
the interstate out of the city and deep into the exclusive suburban
neighborhood where Anderson lived. At the time, I was living in a
brownstone apartment in a hip neighborhood in the city which was
popular with post-graduates and young couples. I had only been to
the suburbs a handful of times to visit my married friends who had
moved to start families in towns with good schools and safe
streets. I had never been, though, to the neighborhood where
Anderson lived.

I wasn’t really sure where I was going but
my GPS system seemed set on taking me down as many wide, tree-lined
boulevards it could find. I finally pulled up to this picture
perfect, two-story white Victorian house with a white picket fence
encompassing an enormous front lawn that was trimmed to perfection.
It was like a period piece of old-fashioned charm from a world of
suburban gentility I thought only existed in movies.

I nervously rang the doorbell and after a
few seconds, the door opened. To my surprise, a young man stood
there wearing only a white bath towel, his firm tanned torso
glistening with water. He had obviously just gotten out of the
shower and he had pinned the towel in a bunch at his waist to keep
it around him. He just raised his eyebrows at me rather rudely as
if to ask me what I wanted.

“
Hi. I’m here to see
Anderson. Is he your father?”

He just looked me up and down as if to
ascertain what exactly I was dressed to do. Without saying
anything, he nodded his head for me to come in. He turned and
walked away as Anderson came up behind him to greet me.

“
Go put some clothes on,
Ethan! Is that anyway to answer the door?” He said it in a
half-scolding manner but it was less of a reprimand than something
he seemed to be saying just because I was there and felt like he
needed to declare it for appearances sake.

“
Right on time,” he said
to me, reaching his hand out to shake mine in a very formal manner.
“Please come in, Natalie. We’ll be meeting in my
office.”

He led me through the hallway of the house
toward his home office. As we were walking through the narrow hall,
the son who had answered the door passed by to go into the bathroom
and our eyes met for a brief second before he quickly looked away.
When we got to the living room, Anderson stopped for a moment.

“
Ethan, Carter,
Alexander!” he called out. “Come meet Natalie.”

Ethan peered back out from the bathroom
doorway while I watched his other two sons wander into the living
room. Neither of them was wearing a shirt. They just stood there in
their boxers, curiously staring at me and wondering who I was. I
felt like I had just been allowed into the men’s locker room and no
one seemed to be concerned in the least about covering themselves.
I ogled the trio of innocent bare bodies like absolutely nothing
was out of the ordinary. It was as if they were being put on
display for me to admire. At least in my mind, I felt like I was at
market for fresh young male meat.

“
Natalie, this is Ethan.
You met him at the front door. And that is Carter and
Alexander.”

“
It’s very nice to meet
all of you,” I said in a very warm tone. They just looked back at
me like indifferent teenagers.

“
Guys, be polite and say
hello,” their father told them firmly. One of them greeted me while
the two others raised their hands lackadaisically before they
turned away and went about their business.

“
Sorry about that,”
Anderson said. “You know how boys are these days.”

“
Yes, of course,” I
replied.

He led me into his office and closed the
door behind me. He motioned toward the large wooden armchair that
was placed opposite his chair and desk. I sat down and readied
myself for his questions.

“
Did you bring your
resume?” he asked me as he sat down.

“
Yes, I did,” I replied
promptly as I reached down into my bag to extract the sheet of fine
linen paper from my leather binder. I passed it adroitly across the
desk to him. He took it from me and began to study it while I
waited. I let my eyes wander around his office while he read and
noticed that he had quite a few photos of himself with an
assortment of military officers and politicians. His entire office
was very neatly organized. Every book on his shelf seemed to be
categorized and meticulously kept. His desk was bare except for a
tidy stack of letters, his computer and a stack of post-it notes
next to a silver fountain pen. And surprisingly, it all seemed to
be very, very clean.

“
So,” he began as he
looked up at me, “have you worked as a housewife
before?”

I laughed when he said it, but after I did,
he just looked back at me with a stone cold glare and I quickly
realized he was serious. His strict formality caused me to be taken
back a bit and I erased the smile from my face before I answered
him.

“
Well, no, I haven’t
Anderson, but I…”

“
Mr. Norton.”

“
What?” I said.

“
Please address me as Mr.
Norton. I don’t believe we know each other well enough for such
personal addresses,” he told me firmly.

I had expected this to be a kind of
make-believe interview and was shocked as to how proper he was
making it. I straightened myself in my chair and continued what I
was saying before he had cut me off.

“
Yes, of course, Mr.
Norton. As I was saying, I have never held the position of
housewife before but I believe that my experience in other fields
has properly prepared me to handle the responsibilities of the
position.”

“
How so?” he responded
immediately.

“
Well,” I said, trying to
think of something to say, “I have learned to multi-task quite well
through my past jobs and I think that would be the most important
element of managing a household.”

“
Of course,” he said,
leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.
“And what kinds of skills do you have?”

“
Well, I can cook, do
errands, clean, take care of the bills…”

“
What can you
cook?”

I couldn’t believe that I
was trying to clarify my skills as a housewife, much less speak of
myself as a housewife at all. After more than a decade in corporate
America, ambitiously plowing through the elite ranks of
twenty-first century global marketing departments, here I was
earnestly trying to be
hired
as a wife of the house. It seemed almost surreal,
as if I was half-pretending to be someone else who I wasn’t
supposed to be.

“
Well, a little bit of
everything. What do you like?”

“
I like American food.
Steak, potatoes and apple pie. Sometimes I like it a little more
contemporary and gourmet,” he quickly rattled on. “You would need
to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner, everyday, for me and the boys.
It must always be good and it must be on the table when we sit down
to eat.”

“
Of course,” I said. “It
would be my job to take care of my men in the way they need to be
taken care of. Feed them when they are hungry and make sure they
are healthy and strong.”

The conversation had quickly taken on a
feeling of the demanding employer and the eager interviewee who was
expressing her readiness to do anything and everything to get the
job. While at first it was a bit strange, there was something about
it that seemed very exciting and almost kinky.

“
And what about when we
are out at social engagements? I attend events with some very
important people who tend to have very traditional values. Tell me
how you would act.”

“
Well, I would be the
perfect American wife. I would be well versed on important topics,
supportive of my husband’s career, well dressed at all times and
eager to engage the other men’s wives so they looked upon me
favorably as your other half.”

I couldn’t help but let out a slight smile
at my eloquent delivery. I could see he was quite pleased with my
answer.

“
And what kind of
authority figure would you be to my boys?”

The question took me back a bit. I had never
really imagined myself as an authority figure of any sort and the
image of being one to three teenage boys suddenly popped into my
head. I honestly didn’t know how to answer the question.

“
Uhmmmm…I think I would
have to learn what it took and what they needed. I guess I would
try to balance being nurturing to them and at the same time molding
them as men.”

“
They need someone who is
strict with them,” he responded bluntly. “Can you whip them into
shape?”

A graphic image of me whipping his boys into
shape in the hidden confines of his pristine home filled my head. I
imagined them all butt naked, bent over the kitchen table as I laid
some prison whip into their backsides. Butterflies floated through
my belly and I had to do everything in my power to maintain my
composure.

“
Yes, I will give them
what they need to be kept in line,” I replied to him in the most
confident voice I could muster. I struggled to swallow and hoped
that he wouldn’t ask me anything else about the
scenario.

“
Very good,” he replied.
He looked back down at my resume as if he was taking time to ask
his next question. He looked back up at me and leaned
forward.

“
I want to be honest with
you, Natalie. This would be a challenging position for you. Both my
sons and I are very emotionally guarded at this point in our lives.
Like I told you when I met you, this is why I am seeking to hire a
housewife. Until we feel like we can trust you and there is a
personal connection, there would be a certain distance between us.
You know how men are with their emotions.”

“
Of course. I understand,”
I told him. “I would not want to force anything. If there is a
strong connection between us all, I’m sure things will take care of
themselves.”

He nodded slowly in agreement while he
studied me. “And why are you even here? What attracted you to my
offer?”

“
Well, to be honest with
you as well, I’m definitely at a point in my life in which I’m torn
between following my career and starting a family. Perhaps this
will be an unexpected solution. I was only looking for one man but
maybe here I have found four.”