I smile because I already know how this book ends and Ahab definitely does not defeat Moby Dick in the next few pages. But obediently, I pick up the book and begin reading again as my head spins. Ooh, I may have a new babysitting client just around the corner, and I hope it works out.
2
Natalie
I still can’t believe how lucky I am! Mr. Aston’s housekeeper, Mrs. Schmitz, called me a few days after my conversation with Mr. Walsh and invited me to interview for a babysitting position. In my mind, I immediately said a brief thank you to Fred Walsh because the elderly man delivered on his promise: he put in the good word for me with his former law firm partner, and now I have a new babysitting client.
The interview itself was a bit weird because I didn’t get to meet Mr. Aston. Instead, the interview was with Mrs. Schmitz only, and she seems to be a nice enough person. Penny Schmitz lives in a small in-law unit in back of the Aston mansion and basically is on shift during the day. But in the evenings, she returns to her little cottage, which is why they need a babysitter for June during the period before their night sitter arrives. I know, it’s crazy. Morgan Aston’s got so much help it’s pouring out of his ears.
But now, despite watching the little girl a few times, I still haven’t met the man of the house. It’s fine though because June is an angel with blonde curls and a sweet soul, and I genuinely enjoy hanging out with her. I’m like a big sister more than anything, and we have fun molding Play-Doh, dressing her dolls, and singing songs together.
“Alright June, it’s time for bed honey,” I say in a gentle voice. She responds with a giant yawn before rubbing her big blue eyes and nodding.
“Yes Nat Nat,” she says in the cutest little voice. “I’m tired.” Then, the princess raises her arms up to me for a hug and I pick her up before tucking her into her white wicker bed.
The sweetheart’s out cold before I even finish singing a lullaby, and I affectionately brush her curls away from her face before moving to the door to turn out the light. Her little hands are clutching a teddy bear tight and it’s the most precious sight I’ve ever seen. My heart contracts and I smile softly. I hope I have a daughter like June one day because I’m already growing attached despite the fact that we’ve only met a few times.
“Goodnight, sweetie,” I whisper as I pull the door shut, leaving just a crack of light shining through. I don’t want the little girl waking up and getting scared if it’s too dark, so I’ve learned to take this precaution.
But now that my small charge is safe in bed, it’s time to try to get some studying done. It’s one of the best parts about this job because not only is the pay generous, but I actually have time after June’s in bed to do other things. I know that most high school girls aren’t exactly excited to hit the books on a Friday night, but I’m just grateful for the opportunity because it always feels like I’m behind these days. There’s so much reading to do, and between the essays, problem sets, and pop quizzes, I feel like I have to work twice as hard just to stay afloat.
But this house is huge and I pause at a set of stairs. Is this the right staircase to take me to back to the living room? Or maybe it’s the other staircase at the end of the hall? Ugh. Who knew living in a mansion could be so complicated? They practically need a map to get around.
Even worse, as I double back on my steps, I get even more disoriented because all the hallways look the same. There isn’t a lot of distinctive furniture or artwork, and I squint, becoming more and more confused. Where am I? This is starting to feel like a scene from The Shining.
Finally, I wind up in the kitchen but it’s not that helpful because my backpack’s in the living area, so I find myself backtracking again as I try to remember which way to turn. It takes me a few attempts and a few more wrong turns, but final, I find myself back in the main living room with my backpack and books on the couch. Good. It’s only 8:30 p.m., so there’s still plenty of time to get some serious studying in. I’m just getting settled in with my American History textbook when there’s a sharp rap at the door.
I glance at the clock in confusion. It’s still early and Mrs. Schmitz said that I would be watching June until at least 11 p.m. So who could it be? No one mentioned any visitors, so I’m somewhat suspicious.