The Babysitter

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“Sorry it was such short notice, but this thing came up and fuckers wouldn’t reschedule, so yeah. Sucks too, with me having the kids this week.” He was talking over his shoulder to her and Ava walked behind him, mentally noting random points of interest in the house.

“Have they been bathed yet?”

“Nah, don’t bother with it tonight. Let ‘em do their thing and I’ll handle that tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t get the door, kitchen’s in the back of the house and I’m getting’ ‘em set up with food and stuff.”

“So do I need to like, worry about allergies and stuff or anything that’ll kill ‘em?”

“What? Nah, they’re just normal kids. It’ll be easier on you if you keep ‘em in the rec room, their bedroom is the first one on the left at the top of the stairs, but they won’t go up there till they crash, probably.” He ran a hand through his hair. Ava picked absently at the hole on the top of her thigh.

“When is bedtime?”

“I dunno, whenever. But before I get back, anyway.”

“Which’ll be…”

“Hopefully before one. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge or order a pizza or something.” They were in the kitchen now. Ava noted a five year old dutifully shoveling Spaghetti-O’s in his mouth and a two-year-old strapped into a high chair, arms over his chest, lips in a large pout. They both favored the dad. “That’s Jakob,” he gestured toward the eldest and Ava winked. The kid grinned around a huge mouthful of pasta and Ava tried not to laugh at the half eaten bits of meatball around his gums. “And this is Joe. He’s sorta in that two phase.”

He turned his attention back to the two-year-old. “Alright man, you’re gonna eat this because it’s good for ya and I’m sick of dodging noodles.” He placed a yellow plastic bowl in front of the child and handed the kid a red fork. Daddy and baby contemplated each other for a grand total of two seconds before the kid shoved the bowl to the end of the chair tray.

“NO!” The cherubic two-year-old crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his lower lip out even further. Ava had a thought of that African tribe that placed whole plates in their lower lips. Attractive. She crunched a purple candy at her knuckle to hide her smirk and wondered how long the fight had been going on before she got there.

“Joe-“

“No!”

“Dad, he’s not gonna eat it-“

“NO! NO PSSGHETTI-OHS!” This time the bowl nearly hit the floor. Probably would have if lucky timing hadn’t made Billie think to put his hand there.

“He hasn’t done this in a long time,” the man apologized over his shoulder and Ava shrugged. She glanced at the clock. It read six on the dot. She wondered what time he had to be wherever he was going. Billie Joe picked up a green plastic spoon and made a pathetic attempt at an airplane motion. “Joseph, you’ll like these things, they’re good for you-”

“Do you like them?” She couldn’t help herself.

“What?” Ava’s employer looked slightly confused and she shrugged.

“Well, seems to me it’s sort of unfair if you’re telling him to eat them and you won’t,” she answered reasonably.

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“Then why give your kid something with meatballs in it?” Ava cocked her head to the side, “Doesn’t seem to have much in the way of foresight, does it?”

“Daddy didn’t buy us psghetti-ohs, Mom did,” The oldest child piped up and Ava had a sudden flash of her home life right after her parents split. Continuity was a joke. Ava nodded her head like she understood. The two-year-old was muttering the word ‘no’ over and over again like a mantra and diligently shaking his head. Ava almost felt sorry for Billie. Then quickly squelched that thought and replaced it again with amusement.

“No Yucky NO!” Billie had managed a half a spoonful of the now pasty goo past the child’s lips and the kid promptly spit it down the man’s shirt front. “Nononononononononononononono!” Ava winced at the ear splitting squall. She could tell the dad was close to losing his temper.

“Now listen Joseph-“

“Mind if I give it a go?” She wrinkled her nose at the blobs of regurgitated icky on the silk shirt and pointedly reached for the bowl. They practically had to yell over the screaming. “You don’t want to be late, do you?”

The man sighed, “Yeah, fine, I’m going to the laundry room,” he gestured to an open door next to the refrigerator, “yell at me if he tries to stage an uprising.”

Ava rolled her eyes. She hadn’t met a two-year-old yet who could stand up to her patented Tantrum Control Method. She winked at the five-year-old and put the bowl back on the kitchen table.

“You’re not gonna get him to eat those, dad’s been trying for like an hour.” Jakob sounded like he was trying to be helpful and Ava shrugged. She was making a point of walking slowly around the high chair, arms crossed under her breasts, considering, before coming back to rest in front of the front of the chair. The youngest Armstrong had yet to cease his imitation of a blackout siren. Ava put her hands on her hips, took a very deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and yelled. Loudly.

“I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT YOUR SPAGHETTI-OH’S BUT COULD YOU PLEASE STOP SCREAMING?!” She punctuated her statement with arms waving violently above her head.

Joseph hiccupped to a surprised stop.

Jakob’s mouth dropped open.

Billie ran back out of the laundry room. “-the fuck?!”

“Thank you,” Ava ignored the two other males in the kitchen and contemplated the one in the high chair. Joe hiccupped again and she wasn’t surprised. Unfortunate side effect of the Method, really. “You’ve got a lot of spaghetti goo on your face. That’s pretty gross, huh?”

“No yucky, no.” Joe commiserated completely. Ava grinned.

“Yeah, yucky’s a good word. I’ve never liked the Chef either. You should try the Ravioli. Tastes like dog poo.” She reached for a wet dish towel from the sink.

“Doggy poo?” The kid sounded intrigued. She tried really hard not to laugh at the expression on the dad’s face.

“Total dog poo. I’m gonna wipe the yucky off your face. Kay?” Ava slipped the candy bracelet off her hand and tossed it on the kitchen table, gently lifting the two-year-old’s face and wiping the tomato based wreck off. “But you want really gross? Try Ramen. My mom was huge on those in Chicago. They’re like flavored popsicle sticks.” She was slowly cleaning off his arms too. Kids and sponge baths. Ava never understood it. According to her mother, Ava was totally self-sufficient by the time she was one and a half. Changed her own diapers and everything. She finished the running monologue and tossed the dirty rag in the sink again. Lifting her hands above her head she smiled big, her eyes lighting up. “All clean!”

“All clean!” Joe yelled back and Ava laughed, finally looking back at the dad.

“Hey, you found a new shirt. Green looks better on you anyway.”

“Um, yeah. Thanks,” Billie couldn’t decide if he were pissed the teenager was taking over or relieved that Joe’s tantrum seemed gone. “Listen-“

“It’s like six fifteen, aren’t you afraid you’ll be late or something?” Ava stared at him expectantly, daring the man to tell her to go home. She wouldn’t be surprised actually, the last parent to see her patented Method had sent her packing and threatened to sue Emma for allowing Ava to baby-sit since she obviously traumatized small children.

“Yeah, I should head out. On second thought make sure they’re in bed by like nine thirty-ish. And uhm, make Joe eat something. My cell number’s on the fridge. I guess that’s it.”

“Kay. Bye,” Ava turned back to the two-year-old. “What do you feel like for dinner, kid?”

“Jake, you gonna be alright with her?” Billie seemed reluctant to leave. Ava didn’t even try to hide her amusement.

“Yeah dad, we’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well then, I’m out…”

“Bye,” Ava waved over her shoulder before diving into the refrigerator to look for alternatives to the Spaghetti-Ohs. Fruit. Tofu. Veggies. Leftovers. Mushrooms. She arched an eyebrow. Now that had potential. She looked at Joseph and grunted. Nevermind. The freezer wielded toaster Eggos and she grinned. Perfect. “Okay, little man, I got what’cha want right here…”

@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@

It was hours later and the kids were in bed. Ava was sitting outside on the front stoop, lounging against the wall of the house, her cell phone pressed to her ear with one hand and a cigarette held between the fingers of her right. “I know, Cara, I know! But you wouldn’t believe these kids, right?”

She laughed, flicking ash into the balloon wine goblet next to her foot. The girl on the phone, he thought she said the name ‘Cara’ said something else and the babysitter threw back her head, laughing harder. Billie wasn’t being quiet about getting home. He knew she heard the car. She was just ignoring him apparently. He wondered if she were doing that teenage I’m-cooler-than-you thing because she knew who he was and didn’t like his music or if she did that to everybody. Then he laughed at himself for worrying about what a teenager thought in the first place.

“So no, the oldest one, Jakob right? He decides he doesn’t want to play blocks with the little kid. No big, so I’m playing with Joe trying to keep him occupied because seriously, have you seen two-year-olds when they’re bored? And then I look up at the mantle, this huge marble thing with a shit ton of photos, and a completely naked five-year-old with his hands on his hips lookin’ all Peter Pan and-“

The girl on the phone said something else and Ava took a drag on the cigarette.

“No! He says he’s Master of the House and we have to go home. Then he pissed on his brothers Legos. I kid you not. He pissed on them Cara! …What? Yeah, I ended up having to give them a bath-- Hi Mister Armstrong, Cara I’ll call you back.” Ava flipped the phone shut and smiled beatifically up at Billie. She wondered if he’d get mad that she’d gone passive aggressive and ignored him while she finished the story to her best friend that she hadn’t talked to in a week.

“So Jake gave you some trouble huh?”

“Nothing a bottle of Mister Clean can’t handle,” Ava took another drag on the cigarette. Billie raised an eyebrow and she offered him the slim pack, “Nat?”

“No, thanks. Is there a reason why you’re out here?” He slid down on the stoop next to her and helped himself to the unopened bottle of water by her left knee. Ava didn’t comment on that. If he wanted to get technical, it was his water after all.

“You never said how you felt about smokers in your house. The kids are in bed,” she gestured to the baby moniter, “Snug as a bug and all that. Newly bathed too, I might add,” she rolled her eyes, “And there wasn’t anything else for me to do.”

“So you’re rotting your lungs.” He crossed his arms over his chest and cringed inwardly, he sounded forty.

“I offered you one.” She flicked ash into the wine goblet again. Ava inhaled smoke and tried to decide if she were being purposely bitchy or if she were just tired. It was two a.m. after all.

“Did Jake really piss on Joe?” He had a very funny mental image in his head and wanted to make sure she wasn’t just making it up for her friend’s benefit before laughing out loud.

“Fuck yeah he did, and I had a helluva time getting those two to share a bath tub. Did you know your kids are kinda spoiled?” She picked up the goblet with her thumb and pinkie finger, holding the Nat Sherman between forefinger and index. When it was next to the baby monitor she looked back up at him and burst out laughing at his expression. “You’ve never heard that before, I take it?”

“Not from somebody I’m paying.” He laughed despite him self. The boys did have their moments. He reached for his wallet, “How much do I owe you, anyway?”

Ava shrugged, dropping what was left of the cigarette into the goblet. She got up, stretching her arms waaay above her head as she did, squeezing her eyes shut and pretending she didn’t realize she was flashing him a good three inches of bare belly. She shoved her right hand into a back pocket and turned on the stoop. It took him a second to realize she was going back inside and during that second he almost caught himself wondering if she were flirting with him. Nah.

Ava opened the door, reached in for something on the floor and then reemerged with her car keys and purse. She shoved the pack of Nat’s in the purse and slid the keys into her pocket before crossing her arms under her breasts and staring down at him expectantly. Billie chuckled and got to his feet, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and thumbing out a few bills. “Thanks by the way, you totally saved my life.”

She looked amused, “Not a problem. Thank you,” She crumpled the bills and shoved them her back pocket. Ava turned to go, walking toward her car and mentally going over how she was going to explain to her dad that Billie Joe hadn’t paid her so Tom needed to pay her too.

“Oh, hey, are you doing anything next weekend?” He had the baby monitor and the water in one hand and the goblet with her cigarette ashes in the other.

“Why, you askin’ me out?” Ava’s grin was infectious.

“You’re a bit young for me, darlin’. No, I need somebody to house-sit. I’m taking the boys to Disneyland. Water plants, feed the dog and all that.”

Ava cocked her head to the side, “You have a dog?”

“I will by next weekend.” He decided not to tell her about the promise to Joseph that he’d buy the kid a puppy if he behaved for the babysitter. He didn’t think he could take another one of her slightly mocking grins. Teenagers shouldn’t be allowed to look like they understood more than they were told, dammit!

She laughed out loud and her eyes danced, “You’re really weird, Mister Armstrong.”

He rolled his eyes, “You can call me Billie.”

Ava laughed again, “Maybe next time, Mister Armstrong.”

He watched her get in the car, made sure it started up okay, then turned to go back into the house.