by Kitty Jones
“Urgently?” Melanie gulped. “Why urgently?”
The nurse gave her a strange look, but shook her head.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you into the exam room.”
Once they were in the room, the nurse weighed Melanie, took her blood pressure, and asked her a few questions about current medications. Then she asked the question that Melanie had been dreading.
“Okay,” she said. “Tell me, what brings you in here today?”
“Uh, where do I start?” Melanie laughed nervously. Was there any way she could just ask the doctor her questions? Did she really have to ask the nurse, too? That didn’t seem very fair. To be honest, the nurse seemed kind of nice. She reminded Melanie of a friendly grandmother, even though the lady was probably only 40 or 50 years old. It was still much older than Melanie. At 23, she was very aware of her youth and her ignorance. It kept getting her into trouble, after all.
“Start from the beginning,” the nurse said gently. She watched Melanie, listening carefully, and Melanie shrugged.
The beginning?
Okay, she could do that.
She tried to think of a way to explain her situation without sounding like a total and complete slut, only she couldn’t. She bit her lip and shook her head. Finally, she blurted it out.
“I had sex last week with some people,” she said loudly. Too loudly. There were people walking around in the hallway. She imagined they were standing outside of the door listening, but that would be crazy.
“Okay,” the nurse said. “So do you need to be checked for pregnancy?”
“No, I…I’m on the pill.”
“Did you use protection?” The nurse asked gently.
Melanie just shook her head.
“Okay,” the nurse said. “So you had unprotected sex last week and you’d like to talk to Dr. Grey about it.”
“Yes,” she said.
This time, her voice came out like a whisper, and she felt the heat of a blush erupting on her face. She couldn’t bear the fact that the nurse knew her secret now. She didn’t want anyone else to know.
Maybe she should just run away.
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Punishing the Babysitter
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Marcus didn't want to go home after work because it meant dealing with Vanessa. He was pretty sure she'd been stealing from him, but he couldn't be completely sure. Vanessa was his babysitter. Her job was to come over and watch Trisha while Marcus was at work. That was it. More importantly, it was only for two hours every day.
Vanessa watched Trisha from 3:30 to 5:30 every day after school. Trisha was in the second grade and was old enough to ride the bus home, but she still needed someone to walk her home from the bus stop, make her a snack, and help her get started with her homework.
That was supposed to be Vanessa's job. Until a few days ago, everything had been fine. Then Marcus had noticed a few problems happening.
First off, the twenty bucks he'd left on his nightstand was gone. That should have been the first warning. He was too trusting, though, and everyone knew it. That had always been one of his problems.
The second sign that she'd been stealing was that his favorite watch had seemingly vanished. At first, he thought he'd simply misplaced it, but now he knew better.
The final straw was that yesterday after Vanessa left, he noticed his wallet was open on the coffee table. He never left his wallet on the coffee table. The only place he ever left his wallet was on the table by the front entrance.
When he'd opened the wallet later, he saw that he was short ten dollars. Seriously? He paid her so much money and now he was out ten dollars on top of her normal wages.
Enough was enough.
Marcus had even gone to the trouble of casually asking Trisha if she'd taken any money from Daddy's wallet. He didn't want to jump to conclusions. After all, if he accused Vanessa of stealing from him, there was no going back.
But Trisha had said it wasn't her.
She claimed that she hadn't taken any money and that she knew her daddy would take care of her.
Well, today was the day. Marcus was going to confront Vanessa. He'd already arranged for his mom to pick up Trisha at 5:25. She would be there around the same time as Marcus. Then he could talk to Vanessa privately before he drove her home.
At least, he'd offer to drive her home.
She might not want it after he fired her.
Because he would have to.
Wouldn't he?
That's what you did when someone stole from you, especially a babysitter. Marcus sighed and stared at the clock. It was almost time to go home. It was time to face the music and talk with the babysitter about her bad behavior. It was time to let her know that naughty girls didn't get rewarded. Not at his home.
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