Miss Fix-It

by Hart, Emma

  The line crackled as he exhaled heavily. “My meeting got pushed back. The other company was flying in from out of state, and their flight got delayed. We’re almost done, but it’s rush hour and I’ll never get back to town on time to get them.”

  Crap.

  “Can’t Summer keep them a little longer?”

  “No. Something about her grandparents coming to town for her parents’ anniversary dinner or she would.”

  Double crap.

  “You’re the only other person I know. Can you think of anyone?”

  I nibbled the inside of my lip. It stung slightly, and I thought of how I’d have to explain this one to my parents without my mom getting ideas…

  “I can get them,” I said before I could change my mind. “They know me, right? I know where the spare key is. I can take them home.”

  “Are you sure? Fuck, no, Kali. I can’t ask you to do this.”

  “You’re not asking me. I’m offering. You’ll be what, an hour? Two?”

  “Two if I’m lucky.” He paused. “How soon can you be there?”

  “Uhh…” I pulled my phone away from my ear and checked the time. “At least half an hour. I was in the shower when you called.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “Brantley?”

  “Sorry. Someone yelled at me.”

  Hmm. I smelled bullshit.

  “Half an hour should be fine. Jesus, Kali. Thank you so much.”

  “It’s not a problem,” I replied. “I’ll head over there as soon as I can, okay?”

  “Thank you. Hey—there’s ground beef in the fridge. I was going to make them spaghetti…” He trailed off.

  “Stop panicking. Aside from the fact Eli barely speaks to me, I’m sure I can manage for two hours.”

  He laughed, albeit a bit nervously. “Keep that confidence. You’ll need it.”

  “Reassuring,” I said dryly, heading upstairs. “Call Summer. Don’t panic. I got this.”

  “Brave woman.” Then, he clicked off the line.

  I stopped at the top of the stairs.

  What the hell was I doing?

  ***

  Brantley: Summer has spare car seats and she’ll fit them. I’m trying to get out of here.

  Me: I told you. I got this.

  And I did. Summer was fitting those seats in the back of my truck as I texted him back. I tried not to put his panic into a box that said he didn’t trust me, because he had to know they’d be safe with me.

  Whether I’d be safe with them was another matter entirely.

  No, he wasn’t panicking because he didn’t trust me. He was panicking because he didn’t want to be that person who imposed on another.

  Hell, I’d already lied to my parents.

  No, it’s fine, I’d said. Just something in work that I have to deal with. I’ll come by tomorrow, I’d promised.

  Something else I would do tomorrow would be to get back to basics. Just do their rooms. Not help him. Show up after he’d left and leave before he got home where I could.

  I had to put some distance between myself and this family, because as I watched the twins grin as Summer ushered them over to my truck, my heart softened.

  I was getting a little attached to these adorable kids, and it was no wonder. They fought like cat and dog, but they were the sweetest things.

  Yeah, shit. I needed distance. Soon.

  “Kawi! Where’s Daddy?” Ellie bounded up to me and hugged my legs.

  Awkwardly, I patted her shoulder. “Daddy’s stuck at work, so I’d said I’d take you home and make you spaghetti. Is that okay?”

  She nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling with a larger than life grin on her face. “Yes! Are we going in your big car?”

  “Sure are. Miss Summer put seats in the back for you. See?” I pointed. “Climb up and over.”

  Ellie examined the height of the truck for a moment. Then, she cocked a leg, put her foot on the door, and tried to heave herself up.

  Summer burst into laughter. “Come here, chickee. You’re never getting yourself in there.” She left Eli standing on the edge of the grass and helped give Ellie a foot-up into my truck. “Eli?” she said, turning back to him. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll help you into Kali’s truck.”

  Silently, he walked over and waited for Summer to lift him up and into his seat. She did the straps that went over his arms, clipped him in, then shut the door and went to do Ellie’s seat, too.

  I swallowed hard.

  The gravity of the situation weighed down on me quickly and heavily.

  I have no idea how to look after two children.

  I mean, I’d known that before I’d agreed, but it seemed like a good idea until they were in my car. Now, I was actually in charge of them, and Jesus—I couldn’t keep a house plant alive!

  How did I keep children alive?

  Two hours, but still.

  A lot could happen in two hours.

  Like regret.

  Summer half-smiled as she came back around to my side of the car. “You’re regretting this already, aren’t you?”

  “Let’s say I agreed before I’d thought it through and leave it at that,” I said warily. “I don’t have the tiniest clue how to look after kids.”

  She laughed, a tiny, tinkly giggle that made me jealous of the fact I tended to snort more often than not when I laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said, tucking her bright, blond hair behind her ears. “You’ll be fine. They know you, right? Ellie’s done nothing but talk about you all day long.”

  Oh, boy.

  “She has?”

  “You sound alarmed.”

  “I am.” I laughed nervously, glancing in my truck. Ellie bobbed her head from side to side, singing something I couldn’t make out. Eli sat quietly, poking the spots on his dinosaur one-by-one. His lips moved, but if he was counting out loud, I couldn’t hear it over his sister’s din.

  Summer’s smile became a wide grin. “He’s a cutie, isn’t he? Shy as anything, though. They’re total opposites to say they’re twins.”

  I nodded in agreement. “If he says anything above a whisper to me today, I’ll count it as a win.”

  More laughter. She touched my arm. “You’ll be fine. Honestly, have a little faith in yourself, Kali. You’ll do perfectly.”

  “Have fun at dinner tonight.”

  She beamed. “Thanks! Have fun with those sweethearts!”

  I smiled.

  Honestly, I think it came out more alarmed than anything else. If she was referring to them as sweethearts, they’d obviously snapped out of this mornings’ dreadful mood.

  I got into the truck and started the engine. “Right. Ready to go?”

  “Woohoo!” Ellie threw her arms in the air. “Yes! Wet’s go!”

  Eli nodded, a move I saw in my rearview mirror.

  I took a deep breath and pulled away.

  And said a little prayer we’d all make it to bedtime without anyone getting hurt.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Okay, no.” I waved my arms. Literally waved them. I imagined I looked like a baby bird trying to fly for the first time. “We’re not fighting over the remote control.”

  They both swiveled their heads toward me. Their expressions were identical—wide eyes, parted mouths, red cheeks.

  God, it was so weird.

  “It’s been twenty minutes. We’re not fighting already. I’m trying to cook. So, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll pick a show everybody likes, and then I’ll look after the remote.” I plucked the controller from their hands.

  Or…I tried to.

  What really happened was that I wrestled it.

  I’m not proud of that.

  Several tugs and gentle chops on their wrists later, I managed to extract the remote from their surprisingly-tight grips and held it up high.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, going to the TV guide and finding the ‘Kids’ section. “What are we watching?”

  “Sofia!” Ellie shouted.

 
“No, Twansformers!” Eli yelled at her.

  “No, Sofia!”

  “No, Twansformers!”

  Help. Someone help.

  “Well, you can’t both watch different shows,” I talked over them. “You have sixty seconds to agree on a show I’ll read out to you before I make a choice for you. Deal?”

  They both grumbled about it.

  “Okay. There is Sofia the First, Peppa Pig, Calliou—”

  “We’re not awowed to watch Cawiou,” Eli said softly. “Daddy said he’s naughty.”

  Ellie nodded enthusiastically. “Daddy said Cawiou is a little shit.”

  I froze.

  Did she just—

  I choked back a mixture of shock and laugh. “Well, Daddy is very naughty, too. That’s a bad word, Ellie, and you shouldn’t repeat that.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. It’s only for grown-ups.”

  “Can I say it when I’m firteen?”

  “You can say it when you touch the ceiling without climbing on furniture or going on your tippy-toes,” I said to her.

  Eli looked at me and then the ceiling. “Can you touch the seewing, Kawi?”

  Hey. He wasn’t whispering!

  I glanced upward. “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “Twy!” They both said, clapping their hands three times in unison.

  I hesitated, but the expectant way they both grinned at me broke me down. “Okay. I’ll try.” I reached up as far as I could, stretching right out, but my fingers came an inch or two short of the ceiling.

  Damn it.

  “You’re not awowed to say the naughty words!” Ellie exclaimed, climbing up onto the sofa and getting a closer look at the gap between my fingertips and the ceiling.

  “You’re too small,” Eli said. “You gotta grow some more.”

  I was screwed, then.

  “Looks like it,” I agreed. “How about the TV? No to Calliou. There’s Spongebob Squarepants—” Hey, a show I knew! “—Or…Paw Patrol.”

  “Paw Patrol!” they shouted, scrambling to sit together on the sofa. “Paw Patrol!”

  Thank God.

  I hit that channel, and when an incredibly annoying theme tune filled the air, I left the room, taking the controller with me.

  I wasn’t going to cope with anymore fighting. Not this soon into my babysitting session. Nope.

  The ground beef on the base of the pan had burned slightly. No wonder—their fighting had overridden my ability to make the choice to turn the damn heat down before I’d gone in there.

  With a sigh, I scraped the burned meat the best I could and drained it all of oil over the sink. I threw the jar of sauce into the pan, then replaced the meat, and stirred.

  The spaghetti bubbled over, so I turned it down so it didn’t splash everywhere. There was still silence in the front room which was both welcomed and slightly worrying. I dashed quickly to peek.

  They were cuddled together, Eli sucking his thumb as they watched.

  I knew Brantley didn’t really like him sucking his thumb, but I was picking my battles, and this was not one of the ones I wanted to fight.

  I just wanted to feed them.

  If I could do that without another argument between them, I’d be okay.

  Right?

  Right.

  I stirred the Bolognese mix. It smelled good, and I mentally patted myself on the back.

  Until there was a scream from the front room.

  I dropped the spoon, splattering sauce everywhere, including on myself, and ran.

  Ellie and Eli were pushing and shoving at each other, and he had hold of a fistful of Ellie’s hair.

  “Hey! Whoa! No!” I rushed to them and removed Eli’s clawed hand from Ellie’s hair. “What’s that all about?”

  “He pinched me!” Ellie shouted at the same time Eli said, “She hit me!”

  I covered my face with my hands. “Okay, come into the kitchen. Opposite ends of the table. Your dinner is done.”

  “But I wanna watch Paw Patrol,” Ellie whined.

  “Nope. We tried that, but you fought. Kitchen for dinner, please.”

  They both sloped off the sofa and sulked their way to the table. They did as they were told, taking their seats at the opposite ends of the sofa. I blew out a long breath and searched for their plates.

  “Next to the fwidge,” Ellie said.

  “Huh?”

  “Our pwates.” She smiled.

  “Oh, thanks.” I crossed the kitchen for the plates and pulled two out.

  Minutes later, they were both eating silently, slurping spaghetti up. The sauce went everywhere except in their mouths. Over their cheeks, on their noses, down their necks…Right down their shirts.

  “Good?” I asked.

  They both turned, grinning at me with half-orange faces.

  It was like Willy Wonka had let his Oompaloompas free in Rock Bay.

  Ellie even managed to get it in her hair.

  Oh, dear.

  They were going to need a bath.

  ***

  In hindsight, what I should have done was cleaned them up with a wet cloth and waited until Brantley got home from work.

  In hindsight, I was a fucking idiot.

  I was a fucking soaking wet idiot, to be precise.

  Who knew that saying, “Please stop splashing!” meant, “Hey, splash some more!”

  Not me. Nobody ever told me that.

  Even reverse psychology didn’t work. I pretended I didn’t care they splashed more, and so they splashed more.

  It was pretty inconvenient, actually, given that I was wearing a white shirt. I should have known better than to do that, because it was decidedly less white than it had been when I’d put it on.

  Spaghetti sauce and bathtub water were not friends of white shirts.

  Or my sanity.

  So, here I sat, on the toilet—with the seat down—watching them as they splashed each other and caused the Great Flood of Monday. They didn’t care a bit, of course.

  Me? Well, I kept creeping looks at my phone. The time? Was Brantley home yet? Would he retrieve his demons from me?

  Time passed.

  So did the twins’ ability to keep water in the tub.

  Until, finally, through their shrieks of delight, a door sounded downstairs.

  It opened.

  It closed.

  I stared at the wall.

  “Daddyyyyy!” Ellie screamed.

  “Daddy!” Eli followed suit with.

  “Help,” I whispered.

  They splashed each other extra loud.

  “Oh, hell,” Brantley said, storming up the stairs.

  Slowly, I turned my face to his. I was soaking wet, from my little socks to my hair and everything in between. “I made a bad choice.”

  He rubbed his hand over his mouth. His eyes flitted across the bathroom, from the soaking twins to the dripping wall and the miniature swimming pool that was now forming on the bathroom floor.

  Who was I kidding? It’d been forming for the past ten minutes.

  Several emotions flitted across his face, but the one I wasn’t expecting was the one he hit me with.

  Amusement.

  Pure, raw, silent laughter.

  “How’s that confidence working out for ya, sweetcheeks?” He grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

  I glared at him.

  “Daddy!” Ellie shouted. “Kawi gave us sketti and a baff, look!”

  “I clean!” Eli shouted. “So shiny!”

  “So wet,” Brantley said, pushing off the frame and shrugging off his suit jacket. He tugged at his tie. “You ready to get out now? Clean hair, clean tummies?”

  They both looked at their stomachs. “Clean,” they said. “Clean hair,” Ellie added.

  Brantley looked at me.

  “Clean hair,” I echoed.

  He laughed. “All right. Ellie, Eli, one, two, out.” He turned, opened a door, and brandished two towels from a cupboard. “Let’s get warm and dry and into bed
.”

  “But—” they both said.

  “No.” Brantley wiggled a towel. “Out.”

  Ellie was the first to get out. Her tiny body was tinted pink with the warmth of the water despite knowing it wasn’t too hot, and her hair hung down her back in stringy, lightly curled strands.

  Brantley wrapped her in a towel, and I averted my eyes as Eli climbed out after his sister.

  “Bedroom,” Brantley said. “Underwear and pajamas. Give me five seconds to change, okay?”

  Both twins nodded. Ellie disappeared into what I knew would be the spare room, Eli into Brantley’s room.

  Brantley left me alone in the bathroom. I pulled the plug in the bathroom and slowly made my way across the hall. I needed another shower, that much was for sure.

  “Kali.”

  I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “Here.” Brantley threw a light-gray t-shirt in my direction. “Don’t stay in a wet shirt.”

  Um, that was his shirt.

  “I can’t.” I held it out to him. “This is yours.”

  He closed his hand over mine, eyes on mine, and said, “They’ll be in bed in fifteen minutes. You wanna wait fifteen minutes in a wet shirt?”

  “No. I intended on leaving right now.”

  “Don’t.” Deep, husky, raw. “Wait. Okay?”

  I swallowed hard, looking down at the shirt in my hands.

  “Kali?”

  “Okay,” I replied, clutching it tight to me. “I’ll wait.”

  “Eli!” Brantley ushered him out of his room. “Into your sister’s room. Let’s get changed real quick.” He winked at me and pointed to his room when Eli had left it.

  I smiled. I was grateful for the offer, but it felt a little wrong to wear a shirt that clearly belonged to him. A lot wrong. He was my client, not my boyfriend.

  Why was I agreeing to this?

  Still, the sensation of wet fabric against my skin was gross, so I shut myself in his room and changed from my tank top into his looser t-shirt. It was huge on me, so I tied the side into a knot at my hip. It made me feel better, and also had me staring down at myself a little longer than a normal.

  Soft gray, the shirt hugged my tits before loosening around my stomach and tightening at the self-crafted hip knot. The material met my shorts at the most flattering point, and I swallowed as I pushed my wet bangs away from my forehead.