TWO
Just before seven-thirty on Saturday morning, Shelagh pulled her car up in front of a two-story house with white trim, grey stone, and red front door. She looked at the house number above the door, confirmed it was 487, and then turned off the ignition in her car. As she reached for her bag, she felt a small fluttering of nerves in her belly and took in a slow deep breath. She had nothing to be nervous about…other than the fact that she was babysitting Dr. Turner's son for the first time, but she had babysat so many children before this surely would be no different. Though, for a reason she could not verbalize, it did, somehow, feel different.
Two days prior, she'd stepped out of the medical building to eat her lunch at the outdoor picnic table thinking her lunch break would be nothing out of the ordinary. Though no one was seated at the table, Dr. Turner was pacing around it while having a conversation on his phone. She gave him a pleasant smile when he caught her eye, but otherwise tried to ignore him as she sat at the table and pulled her egg salad sandwich out of her insulated lunch bag. When the doctor finished his phone call with a huff, he flopped down at the opposite end of the table and was silent for a moment before turning to her and asking if, since she worked with expectant mothers, she was aware of any babysitting resources. Evidently, his frustrating phone conversation had involved his babysitter canceling on him.
Though she was not entirely sure what possessed her to do so, she informed him that she did know of an available babysitter—herself. She had, after all, spent many Friday and Saturday nights babysitting children so their parents could have a date night; it was how she made extra money for many years. Though she had not done it in several years due to her full-time employment, she had always enjoyed it because she thoroughly enjoyed children.
The doctor looked a bit dumbfounded for several moments before stammering out that he needed a babysitter for that Saturday and because it was such short notice, he'd be happy to pay a premium. She laughed and insisted that her regular rate would be fine. They chatted for a few more minutes, ironing out the details, and exchanging phone numbers, before the doctor expressed his gratitude once again.
Their conversation had been so quick, Shelagh hadn't thought much about what she agreed to until later that night when she was home. Timothy had seemed like a nice, polite boy during their two-minute-long conversation, but she had just agreed to spend nearly seven hours with him during Saturday morning and afternoon, when he would be awake the whole time and she wouldn't simply be monitoring the house while he slept. She had watched kids of his age before, but she felt strangely out of practice. Moreso, she was nervous about making a good impression on Timothy and thus on his father. Though she and Dr. Turner would never work together directly, they still worked in the same building, and she didn't want him to have a bad opinion of her.
That morning, she'd woken up earlier than normal so she could make the twenty-minute drive to the Turner's house with plenty of time to spare. The doctor needed a babysitter because he had patient appointments that morning and she didn't want him to be late because of her. As a result, she arrived at their house a bit earlier than necessary, but it was always better to be early than late.
She took her time getting her lunch bag and purse out of the car, locking it up, and then walking down the sidewalk, up the driveway, and then across the paved walkway to the front door. She rang the bell at 7:27 and waited only a few seconds before hearing the door unlock.
"Hello—er, good morning," the doctor said in a harried tone of voice. His hair still appeared damp, presumably from a shower, he was wearing a dress shirt, but still carried his tie in his hands, and though he wore trousers, he had no socks on.
"Good morning, Dr. Turner," she said pleasantly.
"Ah, come on in. I'm afraid I'm running a bit behind this morning and Tim is not out of bed yet." He explained in a tone that made it obvious this last fact was happening despite his efforts to change it.
"That's okay. I can make sure he gets breakfast."
"Er…about that." The doctor glanced nervously up the stairs to his left and then turned back to her. "Tim…well, we—that is he doesn't really eat much. We're…working on it. So, um, as long as he drinks his milk that's all that really matters. There is cereal in the cabinet if he wants it. Or, there are frozen waffles. For lunch, I set out peanut butter and the bread but, again if he doesn't eat…just know it's not you, okay?"
She nodded. "Okay. Thank you for telling me."
He nodded and looped the tie around his neck, moving to the mirror in the entryway as he continued to speak with her. "He can play as many video games as he wants. There are also Legos, and action figurines, and, ah, he's been interested in some board games lately too."
"I'm sure we'll have plenty of things to keep us busy."
Once his tie was on, he turned back to her and said, "I should be back by 2:30 unless something goes awry. And if there's some sort of emergency-"
"I have your number," she informed him pleasantly.
"Right. Yes. Well, I…damn, where are my socks?" he muttered more to himself than anything else. After searching around the immediate area, he disappeared up the stairs and returned a minute later with them in his hands. He sat down on the bottom step, pulled the socks on quickly, and then glanced at her and said, "Thank you again, Shelagh," before walking back the hall.
When she heard a door open and then slam shut, she assumed he left through the garage, so she took a deep breath and decided to take a moment to familiarize herself with the house. On the opposite side of the front door from the stairs there was a room closed off by a set of double doors. They had glass panes, and from what she could see inside, the room was used as some sort of office-slash-library. Walking further into the house, she found the kitchen, which had dark granite countertops and white cabinets and a small dining area. Behind the kitchen was a family room with a cushy looking brown leather couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and many plastic toys and figurines littering the floor.
After taking a quick peak out of the back of the house to see a concrete porch with a four-seater table and a grill, she headed upstairs to check on Timothy. She stepped quietly into the upstairs hall, observing the undecorated space that had white walls and white trim. At the far end of the hall was a closed door which she assumed to be the doctor's bedroom, but the other three doors were open. The first she came to was an empty bedroom with a few toys scattered across the floor and a handful of boxes stacked against the far wall. The second door led to a bathroom, which led her to conclude that the last open door belonged to Timothy. Before she had a chance to explore further, he popped out of his room wearing athletic shorts, but no shirt.
"Oh!" She gasped with surprise, but then smiled down at him, saying, "Hello Timothy. I'm Shelagh, do you remember me?"
He studied her for a moment before saying, "You like green too."
She nodded. "That's right! I'm going to be hanging out with you until your father gets home from work today."
"Yeah, he told me."
"Well, that's good. Do you need help finding a shirt?"
"Is it going to be too hot for a t-shirt today?"
"Let's see." She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her handmade knee-length skirt and pulled up the weather app. "Well, it's only going to be seventy-eight and cloudy today, so I think a t-shirt will be OK. If not, you can always change."
"Okay!" he agreed.
She waited for only a minute before he walked out of the bedroom, still shoving his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. "Are you ready for some breakfast?" she asked as they walked towards the stairs.
"I just want milk."
"That sounds good. Could you show me where your father keeps the cups in the kitchen?"
"Yeah, but I can't reach it."
"That's okay I can get it if you show me."
She let Tim take the lead and walk into the kitchen where he pointed to a cabinet above and to the left of the sink. Inside she found some glasses with decals from the movie Cars and grabbed one with Lightening McQueen for him. She opened the refrigerator, half expecting to find a variety of take-out containers, but was surprised to see some neatly stacked storage containers with leftovers. She pulled out the gallon jug of milk, filled the cup three-quarters full, and then handed it to him.
"Are you going to eat breakfast?" he asked her as he walked over to the table and sat down.
"I had some oatmeal before I came here."
"Okay." He took a few gulps of milk and then traced his fingernails across the woodgrains on the table.
She watched him for a moment before asking, "Do you know what you might want to do today?"
He hummed loudly as he looked up to the ceiling for a minute then said, "Can we play in the yard? I have a new ball."
"Oh, what kind of ball? A baseball?"
"No, a soccer ball. I like soccer. My dad and I watch it on TV sometimes. He calls it football because he grew up in England."
Shelagh nodded slowly. England—so that was the accent she couldn't place. "Well, that's interesting. Have you ever been to England?"
"No, but one time I went to New Jersey."
"Well then you've traveled further than I have; I never left the state."
Tim took another sip of milk. "New Jersey was boring; I didn't like it."
"I see. Well, I'd be happy to play soccer with you as soon as you're done with your milk."
She waited patiently for him to finish the glass and when he did, he asked for a little more, which she gave him. Then once he was finished, he led the way out into the garage where there was a shelving unit that appeared to have various toys and sporting goods. He picked up a soccer ball that was neon yellow with black spots and then walked out into the back yard. Shelagh, who was thankful for her decision to wear sneakers instead of flats, walked a few steps ahead of him so he could kick the ball to her when he was ready.
"I really like your ball, Timothy," she said after they'd passed it back and forth a few times. "Did you pick it out?"
"No. My uncle gave it to me. He said it would make me feel better after my mom died."
Shelagh's heart sank a little inside of her chest. From how flustered Dr. Turner seemed after his babysitter canceled, she had initially assumed him to be recently separated or divorced from his wife and trying to navigate his way through a joint custody agreement. Now learning the real reason for the doctor's sudden foray into single fatherhood, her heart ached for both of them.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your mother."
"'s why I live with my dad now, because she died."
"You lived with her before this?"
"Yeah." Tim gave his ball a hearty kick and it went off to Shelagh's left, far out of her range to reach for it. Sensing the boy might have more to say, she hesitated before going after it. After a moment, it was Tim who ran for it, carrying it in his arms as he returned to the area just behind the garage. "I used to only see my dad on some weekends. My grandma said he's like a stranger, but I don't think so. He's just my dad."
Watching Tim kick the ball between his feet for a moment, Shelagh asked, "Have you ever played on a soccer team?"
"Yeah. Dad says I can play again, too, but it's not time yet. Do you know when soccer starts?"
"I don't, but it's probably in the fall," she said thinking it might coincide with the school year, but she really had no idea as she had never played soccer, or any other team sport, during her youth.
"When's that?"
"When school starts again; in a few months."
Tim nodded. "OK. I have time to practice." And with that he kicked the ball back in her direction.
Patrick pulled his SUV into the garage and, as he pressed the button to close the garage door behind him, he glanced down at the clock. Two-thirty on the dot. At least he wasn't late coming home, which was a small miracle given how challenging his last appointment of the day had been.
He grabbed his keys from the cupholder and headed inside, only once he stepped through the door realizing how starving he was. He really needed to bring more to eat during his shift than just a protein bar and a banana, but those were both quick and easy things to eat. He wanted to work on paperwork during his lunch break so that he wasn't late leaving and coming home to Tim—especially not on a Saturday.
After slipping off his shoes and hanging his keys on the hook above the washing machine, he walked into the living area and found Tim and Shelagh sitting on the floor in front of the couch playing with Legos. "Hello," he called over to them.
Tim jumped up immediately and ran over to him. "Dad! Dad! Shelagh played soccer with me, and she made me a sandwich with peanut butter and bananas! It was so good!"
"Oh!" Patrick said with slight surprise as he had never heard of a peanut butter and banana sandwich, but if it was something Timothy would eat, he'd make one every day. "Well, I'm glad you had a good time."
"I did! Can she come back next Saturday?"
"Er…" Patrick hesitated as he looked at the woman gathering up Legos and dumping them back into their storage bin, "We'll have to see."
"I really want her to come back!" he said before running off to help clean up the Legos.
Pleasantly surprised, Patrick walked down the hall to his office, where he had an envelope of cash waiting for Shelagh. He didn't normally use cash, but she said it was her preferred form of payment, so he'd made sure he had enough to give her. By the time he'd grabbed it, she was in the hall with her bag slung over her left shoulder.
"Thank you," he said genuinely, handing her the envelope. "This is the most excited I've heard him in a while. And you even got him to eat lunch."
"To be fair, it was only half a sandwich," she confessed softly.
He shrugged. "Considering how things have been going, that's a win in my book. You…that is, I'm not sure if you thought of this as a one-time thing, helping out a colleague, and all, and if you'd rather have your Saturdays to yourself, I completely understand, but if you would be willing to come back I would appreciate it."
She tucked the envelope of money into her purse as she gazed back towards the living room, where Tim was jumping around and pretending to be a Lego ninja. Turning back to him she nodded and said, "I'll come back. That is, if you need a Saturday babysitter I can help as long as you need me to."
Relief flooded him as he sighed out, "Oh, you really are a lifesaver Shelagh. I appreciate this so much."
She smiled and said, "You're welcome. Same time next week?"
"Yes, yes, same time. Have a good rest of your weekend and I suppose I might see you sometime this week."
She nodded and reached for the front door handle. "Enjoy your weekend, too, Dr. Turner."
He watched as she went and then jogged up the stairs to change out of his work clothes. After he'd pulled on a blue polo shirt and khaki shorts, he went back downstairs and found Tim still reenacting the Ninjago movie they'd watched the week before. "Well, I see you're full of energy. Would you like to walk down to the park and play on the swings?"
"Okay!" Tim cheered.
Patrick smiled to himself as his son grabbed his sneakers from where they'd been left by the back door. Eating lunch and not fussing about going to the park? Maybe things were finally starting to turn around.