by C. L. Stone
His mother made a motion with her hand and within seconds, there were flute glasses presented by a server around the table. Behind him, a woman carried a large bottle. The label: Veuve Clicqout. Something expensive, although Victor wasn’t familiar with champagne.
Jasmine beamed and held her glass up toward Victor across the table. “My darling Victor,” she said. “It’s such a special occasion. We really should toast this.”
“I agree,” Mrs. Turner chortled and reached for a candied strawberry to put on her plate. She patted her fingers on the napkin quickly before reaching for the flute that had just been filled. “Seventeen is a glorious year. You should enjoy it.”
Victor didn’t pick up his glass and waited, a thank you prepared in his mind. Traditionally, being the one they were honoring, he didn’t drink.
However, Jasmine finished the toast, with everyone else taking a sip, and then said, “You should try it, Victor. It might be to your taste.”
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Turner said, and the others echoed.
Uh oh. He side-glanced Brie, who seemed to turn a bit pale again.
She’d said not to drink… She had taken minor sips herself, but no one was pressuring her to do more.
As if reading his mind, she leaned in and side whispered. “Should be okay, right? I don’t think it has that much alcohol… And a sip…”
Maybe she was right. It was just champagne. A few sips…
Victor reluctantly held up his glass, waiting and hoping they’d get distracted by something else.
The other women held up their glasses again, as if joining, looking toward Victor. This made him hesitate again.
The blond girls to his left held flutes to their lips and waited, seeming to enjoy the strangeness.
Weird. But fine. One sip.
Victor sipped and the others did similarly. He tried to put the glass down immediately after.
“I feel it’s bad luck if the birthday boy doesn’t finish the first glass,” Mrs. Turner said. She stopped after her first sip and tittered. “Victor, we should make a toast to your mother. She put so much effort into this thoughtful event.” She held out her glass, raised. The others followed suit.
Jasmine nodded and from across the table, waited. She wasn’t going to drink this one, because she was being honored.
But he had to, and then he’d have to make another short toast after Mrs. Turner finished her toast, because… etiquette would say he should thank his mother, too.
At this rate, he’d finish the glass.
He paused, trying to think of a way to politely decline this. What could he say? This was why he usually appreciated the others being here. When he was put on the spot, he became a bit flustered and second-guessed himself. The others, cooler-headed than him, would step in, coming up with excuses as needed.
Without a reason to present to them not to, he took the flute, and he drank what was in it through two more toasts, only coughing at the end as the alcohol burned a bit at the back of his throat. He pushed the flute away, hoping that was the last of it.
The women at the other end of the table did a happy soft cheer and light clapping gently into the palm, careful to do so around their held glasses, before taking sips.
Piper giggled and with her nose up, she made a cooing face. “You’d think they were treating you to your first champagne ever.”
He’d had some at occasions before, usually just a sip before he could put the glasses down or trade them for water or ginger ale instead. He preferred to be aware enough of his senses to be able to get through the night and leave early.
Why had he decided today to take the pill that Brie had given him was an okay idea? He should have known this might happen.
One glass wouldn’t hurt, right?
“Another one for the birthday boy,” one of the women said. While Victor had assumed she meant to refill her glass, the server came around to each of them and they all got more.
And again, Mrs. Turner held her glass up, looking expectantly at Victor. “Maybe we should take a sip for your father, too. Or the lovely day we’re given today.”
This seemed pretty farfetched. There was something going on and he didn’t like it. Victor carefully picked up the glass. The last sip of Veuve Clicquot lingered, ripe fruit and with a ginger aftertaste on the back of his throat. Dry, he was fairly sure it was called. He didn’t like it.
Again, he lifted the glass, hoping to let the others drink and let him pretend to drink and be done with it.
No luck. The moment he put his flute down after not taking more than a couple of drops onto his tongue, his mother paused, looking across the table at him.
Perform like you’re supposed to. Like they want you to.
Perform.
She didn’t have to say it out loud this time.
Victor sipped slowly at his flute, to not cough again, but only half of the glass.
This seemed to settle the older women into a spin of stories about some of their college years.
And Mrs. Turner and his mother looked at each other with glee in their eyes. Proud. Whatever they were planning, they were accomplishing.
With the others distracted again, Victor murmured to Brie. “Do me a favor?”
“Sure,” Brie said.
“Keep an eye on me,” he said, and gave her a long look.
Brie grimaced and nodded slowly, pressing her lips together. “I’ll try.”
Abafando
(Port., muffled)
Sang
The rear family room of Mrs. Ruiz’s house was a little warm with the sun coming in through the rear window. I sat as still as I could. Listening. Watching the baby swing in the bassinet through the tiny monitor I held in my hands.
Hope filled my heart that the children didn’t wake up before Mrs. Ruiz got back.
A clock on the entertainment center ticked, ticked, ticked at every second, just barely audible from across the room. Eerily, every moment seemed longer than the last.
The vent near the archway stirred to life, whirring with a light breeze in the warming room. On the floor, a teddy bear’s neck ribbon wavered a little under it.
I waited, occasionally sitting on my hands. Sometimes I crossed my legs.
How quiet did you have to be for a baby to sleep?
How old was the older one? Was four years old young enough to need a very long nap time still?
I couldn’t remember when I stopped taking naps. Did Marie remember?
I wasn’t sure if I should do anything else. She said to watch television, but I was petrified it would wake the baby.
I had déjà vu of my mother with her strange punishments, having me sitting on my knees on a hard surface for hours at a time with nothing to do but think and sit as still as possible. Compared, this was easy sitting on a couch, and there were things to look at around me that left me plenty entertained. I studied the toys, far more than I could ever remember having of my own. I wondered where those old toys had gone. I didn’t remember them throwing things like that away. Maybe they were still in boxes somewhere.
I pressed my lips together, watching and waiting. At times I was zoned out in my own head.
The vibration of my phone startled me. I jumped shortly and answered the call.
“Are you at Victor’s?” Gabriel said into the phone. “We’re on the way but we’re kinda stuck. He’s not answering.”
“No,” I said as quietly as I could. “I’m babysitting.”
There was a pause. “Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that. I thought you said babysitting.”
I got up to go to the furthest side of the room where I thought the kids couldn’t hear me. “It’s kind of a long story, but I’m watching two kids.” I tried to give him the short version about owing a favor.
“Holy shit,” he said. “Where are you?”
“I’m not sure.” I knew I should have checked on my phone. I thought perhaps I could find a piece of mail so
mewhere. “Do you happen to know Mrs. Ruiz?”
“Kota,” he said. “How do you do the thing where you track where Sang is?”
There were muffled noises in the background and Kota’s voice, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“We’ll be right there,” Gabriel said.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to,” I said. “Something about splitting the favor…”
“We won’t stay, we’ll just check up on how things are going,” Gabriel said. “For like an hour or three.”
There was more talking by Kota but again I couldn’t hear him.
“Five minutes is like an hour. It’s just a few extra more minutes.”
I wasn’t sure what I should do. Maybe letting them come by wasn’t a bad thing. Kota had a little sister. Maybe he could show me what to do?
“Maybe just for a minute,” I said.
♥♥♥
It wasn’t very long before they pulled into the drive in Kota’s old clunky sedan.
I wasn’t sure what the neighbors would think, if they were paying attention. Were they actually Academy? Would they understand?
I opened the front door as quietly and as little as I could to let them in and put a finger to my lips. “They’re napping.”
It was like when I was back in my old house with my mother, and they had to sneak around to visit me in our old house. Those memories stirred in me as we all tiptoed into the rear den. They glanced around at all the toys on the floor and the large couch and entertainment center.
Both Kota and Gabriel were dressed especially well for Victor’s party. Kota wore a mostly light gray suit with a white collared shirt, a green silk tie, and a gold tie pin exposed, a small gold bead at the tip. His black-framed glasses accentuated his green eyes as they sparked with amusement at what was going on. “How many kids are there?” Kota asked.
“Just two,” I whispered, still afraid they could hear all the way in the back. “A few-months-old baby and a four-year-old.”
Gabriel had grown taller than Kota, and leaner, over the last few months, only apparent when he stood next to the other guys as close as he did sometimes. I thought if he grew any more, he’d be taller than Silas by next Christmas. He wore a blue suit, with a blue striped shirt and a bright orange tie. His hair was combed back neatly, enough to make a small ponytail in the back and expose the shaved underside across his scalp, a new style he was working on. The two strips of blond had been pulled back, making stripes through his hair. The style had him looking like a rugged model. “Two isn’t bad. Especially if one is a baby.”
“Let me look around,” Kota said. And he tiptoed around the room and then glanced around the kitchen.
As he was checking out the layout, I bit my lower lip, wanting to suggest he stay still to not make much noise.
Gabriel lingered with me, and he stuck a forefinger against my bitten lip. “What?”
I don’t know what possessed me, but I adjusted and made an “o” shape with my mouth, and the result with his shifting finger had it landing in my mouth.
And out of sheer habit as it was something I did with Nathan, I bit lightly, and then sucked on it and licked the tip.
Gabriel made a shocked expression and his jaw slackened as he looked at me. He wriggled his eyebrows. “Girl, we gonna find a closet in a minute.”
The “o” shape of my mouth instantly became wider and I released his finger. I didn’t know what he meant, but it sounded like something we shouldn’t be doing… at least here.
Kota returned before I could say anything. “There’s instructions on the fridge. They’ve had random babysitters before.”
“I’m just not used to it,” I said.
“Well, for starters, you don’t eat the kids,” he said with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but what do you do with a baby?”
Gabriel snickered. “I think you still can’t eat the babies.”
Not what I had meant but I giggled at the joke. At least I felt a bit better.
I tiptoed to the kitchen where Kota showed me the instructions. Mrs. Ruiz mentioned there were some, but I thought it was just if I needed to feed the baby. Instead it was way more, including diagrams, about how long to allow kids to sleep, a link to a video online on how to change diapers, and which drawers in the fridge had kid-approved snacks, and also where the first-aid kit was.
Gabriel scanned the notes beside me. He whistled very quietly. “She should write the babysitter manual for everyone.”
Kota motioned us into the rear den. “So just read through the material,” he said with a smile. “No problem.”
I nodded. The way they walked around loose and confident made me feel much more confident about the job and being in this stranger’s home.
“We could stick around still though, right?” Gabriel asked. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Mrs. Ruiz won’t mind, would she?”
“Probably better if we go,” Kota said. “The more people, the more likely one of them will wake up, likely the older girl, and if that’s—”
A noise from the archway startled us all into turning around.
A small, dark-haired child in green shorts and a blue T-shirt stood there. Four-year-old Annie. Tiny hands rubbed tired eyes. The shirt was stretched up over her stomach, exposing a plump belly.
“Uh oh,” Gabriel said.
And in a second, the two instantly transformed. Smiles, bright eyes, all looking at the girl.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Gabriel said, almost singing.
“Bet you didn’t know your best friends were going to show up after nap time,” Kota said.
The girl blinked at us, seeming unsure. “You came to play?” she murmured.
“We sure did,” Kota said. “You’ll need to wake up a bit first.” He motioned to the television. “Want to come sit and watch something?”
The girl didn’t move until Kota turned on the television, finding a kid’s movie on pause on DVD. He pushed buttons on a remote to get it to start over.
Once it did, Annie moved to the couch, crawled up on it sideways to lay on her stomach. It looked like she was really zoned out, on the verge of sleeping again.
“We’ll get ratted out,” Gabriel said quietly to Kota and me.
“We just came by to make sure things were okay,” Kota said, again quiet but not nearly as much as before.
“Now what do I do?” I asked. “Just let her watch TV?”
“Don’t think about it too much,” he said. “Just television and toys and snack time. The baby will be harder if it wakes up, but three things to remember for a baby: diaper, food, burp. After that, you should be able to put him down to play in the play chair. If he cries, just hold him awhile and he might calm down.”
I clenched my teeth together, lips apart, and spoke through. “Um… okay when you say diaper…” I couldn’t even imagine. It wasn’t that I was afraid to do it, but I was more afraid I’d do something wrong and hurt a baby. “I mean, I know there’s a how-to video link but…”
Gabriel chuckled. “Okay, here’s what to do. We’ll be in the car nearby. We’ll come back if baby wakes up. We’ll go through it together and then bail when he’s happy.”
“We’re supposed to be on our way to Victor’s,” Kota said.
“He’s fine,” Gabriel said. “Silas is with him. We’re just here to do on-the-job training. And Mr. Buble promised she’d leave on time for the party. If she’s on time, we’re on time.”
“We need to get out of here,” Kota said. He urged Gabriel by the elbow toward the front room. “We probably got lucky she’s still sleepy.” He kept going but spoke to me as I followed them. “Just call. We’ll stick around up the road a bit to not be more obvious than we’ve been already.”
I tried not to ask for them to stay. Once they were here, it felt like I was breaking the rules but I was more worried about doing something wrong regarding the kids and
wanted them nearby to help.
Gabriel lingered next to me, his arm brushing mine as he leaned in. The scent of sugar and some exotic fruit lingered on his skin. “I mean, one of us could stay.”
“If she has to earn the favor, she has to earn it. She’ll probably already get ratted out by the girl.” Kota tugged Gabriel by the elbow. “This is the safest point she’s going to earn at the moment and it’s helping Victor. Let’s get out of the way.”
Maybe it was best. If Kota considered this to be an easy point to earn for myself, then I was doing things incorrectly by asking for help as it was.
I waited in the living room again, watching as Kota backed up his old clunky sedan out of the driveway and drift up the road, out of view of from what I could see.
After a minute of watching the quiet street, I went back to the rear den.
The girl hadn’t moved at all, her eyes were half-closed, but the slits that were open glowed with the screen she was looking at. A rhyming song was encouraging her to get up and dance, but she just watched.
At first, I stood in the archway, debating if I should go in. If I left her alone, would she go back to sleep? It didn’t feel like she was sleeping for that long.
For a while, I stood and read the instructions on the fridge, but it felt weird to hover and re-read diagrams.
I crept over to the couch, not daring to cross in front of the television. I sat at a distance, giving her plenty of space to not disturb her.
And waited.
She just watched. I sat. That was it.
Was this watching children?
Maybe we got lucky. She was so dazed out of it that she might not remember the guys were even here.
Was she at all surprised someone was watching her who she didn’t know? Did she feel the same apprehension I felt in my chest? Or was she used to something like this, with her mother who would need to go off, and her usual babysitter busy and all she had left was some Academy stranger to watch her.
My phone vibrated and I checked it.
Gabriel sent a link. When I clicked it, it was to download a game app.
I did.
Gabriel: Link me.
