Chapter Text
The instructions were as clear as the sky clouded with bright clouds due to the bright sun behind the smoke screen. Monaco rarely had bad weather, but even though it was spring, today there was no rain forecast, the clouds were just threats.
On the paper torn from the diary, his mother's curvy handwriting and loose ends continue with some instructions:
You don't need to look for it when you arrive or leave, just don't enter the room if the door is closed.
Wash white clothes first, and only on Mondays or Wednesdays. Leave the black and colored clothes to accumulate for washing on Friday.
Do not wash clothes on weekends. Make sure there is no one in the area before putting on clothes to hit.
Only iron dress shirts, DO NOT IRON other clothes.
Separate clothes by use and leave them on the bed. He will save it at the end of the day.
Water the plants twice a week, except the cactus on the balcony, which is only once a month.
Wash the bedroom bathroom once a week and do not touch the lower cabinet (under no circumstances unless asked to do so)
Sweep and mop all areas of the house
Wash and dry dishes, do not leave anything on the drainer
Fluff cushions, pillows and blankets. Change the bed linen once a week, if it looks dirty, change it immediately.
If you're late, don't text, just arrive and keep your schedule as normal.
Clean windows and refrigerator once a month
If you need to throw food away, leave a small note stuck to the fridge, have a post-it in the drawer, if it's the last one, write to him to buy more
He replenishes the cleaning products himself, you don't need to ask for anything.
Don't sit on the sofa, if you need to, use the kitchen chairs. Store your things in the laundry room.
Tell him I'm fine :)
Once he finished reading the almost endless list, Max snorted. He could take care of a house, especially a house where the resident is hardly present. It can't be that difficult, like any minimally decent boy, he learned household chores very early. His mother Sophie was a day laborer for many years, which is how she raised her two children after the tragic death of her husband a few years after Max entered pre-teens. She worked multiple shifts, always making sacrifices and coming home with sweat in her eyes but a smile on her face.
There was no effort in the world that ran against time, Sophie had to stop working sooner than she imagined, her back hurt from years of domestic service, in the house of rich and mean people who didn't pay her what she needed, but that was the only thing she could do. that she could. Max graduated from high school a few years ago. He worked as a delivery boy in a flower shop, after that he tried to go to college, but in a city that bordered the principality of Monaco there were no good on-site universities where he wouldn't need to move. He was taking a small Business Administration course at an online college, the facilities of the modern world, and his schedule could be arranged in favor of helping his mother.
His sister had already escaped to live in the Netherlands with a husband who was not so handsome but had a stable financial life. The Netherlands, that's where they should never have left if their late father wasn't a car enthusiast and wanted to be a pilot even after having two children. Unfortunately, his death was not doing what he loved, he died of a heart attack after a busy day of work in the city's most famous supermarket. Max would never go to that supermarket again. He fulfilled this with satisfaction.
While his head was thinking away, his legs took him to the entrance of the apartment. A building as tall as radio waves and Max wondered how they put such small tiles on top. He rang the bell for the entrance hall, like his first day in this job, replacing his mother, who had been here for so many years, now that she could no longer work. Max needed that money, he needed to be perfect. He couldn't miss this opportunity.
‘Good morning, how can I help you?’ the elderly doorman asked as he opened the small window that gave access to his cabin, he was broad-shouldered and probably older than anyone who should still be working.
'Hello sir, good morning, I'm Max, Max Verstappen, I came to provide services at Mr. Daniel Ricciardo, floor 23' he mumbled the words while analyzing the doorman's serene face.
‘Hello Max, I’m Roberto, Verstappen, huh? Is your mother no longer working for Daniel?’
Max sighed a little anguished, he hated giving details about his personal life, especially things that referred to his mother or his family, but this man seemed like he knew her, so this time there would be no problem.
‘no, she has a small spinal injury, I’ll replace her’ Max says hastily looking at his watch, he wasn’t exactly late, but he wanted to get away from this agonizing conversation
'I understand, it's a shame, send my best wishes to her' Roberto said in a really upset tone, surprising Max, and seeing his haste he soon gave further instructions 'use the service elevator for now, ask Daniel to give you a key to the gate garage, and if he's annoying with you let me know' Roberto laughed, Max didn't understand but nodded and entered the service elevator.
Max stopped at the white door with a faded doormat, he was going to knock on the door but remembered the first rule on his mother's list, he didn't need to announce his arrival, he looked for the key his mother gave him and opened the apartment delicately.
White dominated the place and so did the silence, directly in the living room there was a TV bigger than Max had seen in department stores, a sand-colored sofa against the wall, access to the balcony, with closed blinds. Max will have to figure out how to open it. On the right side was a simple kitchen, separated by a wooden wall. The laundry room was in the back. Max left his backpack there.
He walked around the house cautiously to recognize his surroundings. A bathroom next to the living room, a narrow corridor that gave access to an office and two more doors. The first was an office, with simulator equipment and a shelf full of trophies. Max felt his body shudder. He knew that his mother worked or worked for a racing driver, they were the majority in this tiny town full of playboys, but he didn't remember that THAT boss was just the racer.
It's not like he hated racing, but ever since his father died he avoided those kinds of memories, his father wouldn't miss a race on television, when the cars came to Monaco he saved every penny and bought the cheapest chair he had In some years, he even invaded land to observe. His dream of driving karts and being a formula driver was so big that it encompassed the entire family. But all of this became a sad memory.
Max pushed his thoughts aside and got to work. He looked in each of the laundry cupboards for the products available to him, inspected under furniture, located garbage bags and what the priorities were.
Whoever Daniel was, he wasn't that disorganized, but he was clearly failing to clean specific things. The kitchen wall was slightly greasy, the carpets had not been changed, there was dust under the countertops and some small cobwebs had accumulated in the corners of the ceilings. There were only 4 weeks without a day laborer, 4 weeks in which Max had to change all the issues in his life to support his mother.
As he was alone, the day passed quickly, he focused on what seemed most necessary that day and decided that he would finish more things in the next few days.