Lies, Secrets and Apple pies

Chapter 13

 It was Friday morning, and I was watching Saxton. He was three. A sweet boy. A bit talkative but not overly so. He had blonde hair and brown eyes. His parents were just as lovely. They let me eat whatever I want, and man, could the mom cook. I'm talking about lasagna and desserts. My favorite was her Christmas sugar cookies. I ate about two and was already anticipating eating more. Call me greedy if you want to.

I didn't babysit the Murphy family often. I think once or twice a month. They didn't need a regular sitter. It worked out fine either way for me. Mr.Murphy was one of my 'special' clients. He paid the same hundred dollars every Sunday, and if his wife booked me, he had to pay an extra hundred on sight. So, instead of four hundred every month, he had to pay five or six hundred. Now I know what you're thinking: how long is this, shall I say, commitment? I didn't know, to be honest. I have been doing this for almost six months, give or take. I could go on forever. I won't, but I mean, I could. A hundred every week was change to the families I watched. They could afford forever, or until they were dead, I should say.

Saxton and I were playing with some colorful blocks at the kitchen table. He was munching on a bag of chips while I was on my third cookie of the day. I liked my job. I didn't love I,t but I did enjoy it. I liked watching kids and interacting with them, helping them to develop and grow. I enjoyed eating people's food and getting paid for nap time. For me, the ideal family was a child who napped for two to three hours, a family who let me eat their food and had good food, and who paid more than fifteen an hour for just one kid. Was that too much to ask?

"I need help." Saxton cried. His tiny, white face was caving into a frown.

"Sure, bud," I replied. I put a blue block on top of a white one. He was making an airplane but didn't quite have the patience to follow the simple, pictured instructions.

There was always something wrong with the families I babysat for. Some families didn't have any food, or another only paid fifteen dollars; quite a few only paid fifteen dollars. Then there was the family whose kid didn't nap for the whole eight-hour shift. That family was- Saxtons'. It was like Jordan said couldn't have my cake, cookies in my case, and eat them too. I was just glad Saxton had so many toys. There was plenty to do. Many of the families I watched time went by so slow because their kids got bored quickly, and frankly, so did I.

Saxton had about ten different things we could do, inside and out. There was playing with blocks, his train set, his balloons, TV, and his car outside, to name a few. I admired the daffodil I made with the blocks. Yellow, white, and two contrasting shades of green made up my flower.

The basement door opened, and I looked up. Saxton continued playing with his block airplane. Mr.Murphy gave me a faint smile. Poor guy. He was more of my sad-I-got-caught clients anything?" Mr.Murphy asked.

"Nope," I said, slowly popping the P in nope with my shea butter chapstick-covered lips. Mr.Murphy nodded his head in reply and went into the kitchen. He came out a few minutes later with a hot cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. He went back into the basement, shutting the door. I heard the clicking of a lock. Should have done that the first time.

It was my first time at the Murphys'. Mrs.Murphy met me briefly before having to jet. Which was fine; she left a detailed note of Saxtons' schedule and said Mr.Murphy was in the basement if I needed anything. Saxton was a few months younger at the time. He still took naps.

"Let me help you with your pants," I said, assisting Saxton to the bathroom. He still wore diapers but was starting potty training. I sat him down on the toilet before sitting him up. "How do you pee again?" I asked him. I didn't watch boys often. The oldest one I did was four and could go on his own. I sat Saxton down again. He pushed his weewee back and peed into the toilet. So, that's how.

I pulled his pants up and helped him wash his hands. I cleaned mine as well. Saxton climbed into his bed. I read him one story, then another. He insisted on a third. I saw no reason to deny him. He was asleep by the time I finished the third story. I closed his door, grabbing the baby monitor on the way out.

It was quiet. The family, dog, Mickie nowhere in sight. Mrs.Murphy did say the dog would stay out of sight but asked if I could take her to the bathroom. Now was as good a time as any. I looked in the living room and then the kitchen. Mickie was nowhere to be found. There was only one more place to check. Can you guess? The basement.

I opened the door quietly, slowly descending down the stairs. The stairs curved into a spiral shape. I stopped before making a complete circle. I listened to the sounds of quiet panting. "Ugh," a voice said huskily. The sound of a hand rubbing lotion- oh my gosh! He's watching porn. I lowered my legs to the floor; the rest of my body followed. There was Mrs.Murphy watching some girl-on-girl action.

I tilted my head, trying to get a better view. I won't give you details, but. . .it was interracial, a black and white girl. Big titties. Mhmm, my favorite. I must have miscalculated, or better yet, I hadn't calculated. My head was leaning too far left, and I went tumbling down the stairs. Mr.Murphy sat upright immediately. His legs knock the table. His coffee falling to the floor. I sat up after a few seconds looking Mr.Murphy in the face, my gaze subconsciously lowering. I saw it. It wasn't an inadequate size, not that I saw the male organ enough times to know the difference between a good or bad size.

Mr.Murphy quickly covered himself with a nearby green towel, "What are you doing?" He stuttered.

"What are you doing?" I asked back. The porn was still on—the girls' excessive moaning making the scene even more embarrassing if that was possible. "Don't answer that," I said. "It's kind of obvious."

"Then why did you ask? Can you get out, please!"

"I can." I turned around, spotting Mickie in the corner of the room, watching the whole exchange. "I'll be taking the dog to the bathroom."

It was now almost noon. Mrs.Murphy left a slice of lasagna, some garlic bread for me, and a hot dog and strawberries for Saxton to eat. I heat up my lasagna in the microwave and look for some parmesan to sprinkle on top. Refrigerator? No. Cabinets? No. Cupboards? No. What was lasagna without parmesan? Cheese, pasta, sauce, and meat. What was lasagna like with parmesan? Cheese, pasta, sauce, and meat. Yet, I wanted my parmesan, still. I heat Saxton's hotdog for a few seconds before serving him his lunch in the living room.

I sit at the dining room table instead but still within sight of me being able to see Saxton. I press the down arrow on the remote, settling on Finding Dory. Saxton and I eat in peace. He laughs at the occasional scene. I pick up my finished plate and wash it in the sink. Time was going by pretty good, but, gosh, do I wish this kid took naps. I have been here since eight in the morning and woke up at six-thirty to get here on time. I go into the snack cupboard and take out another delicious sugar cookie. The hard, crystal sprinkles pop in my mouth.

"Are you done, Saxton?" I ask before taking his plate. His mom warned me he might be picky about lunch. "Want some chips?" I call to Saxton from the kitchen.

"Yeah!"

We finish the movie and go upstairs afterward to play with Saxton's remote control cars. I liked Saxton's toys; they were very babysitter-inclusive. A lot of kids only had dolls or the same toy they constantly wanted to play with. Saxton loved doing different things and wasn't too bad for conversation at three.

"My friend, my friend, my friend Collin, he has brown skin like you, and I have white skin," Saxton said, showing me a picture of him and Collin surrounded by bubbles outside. Cute.

"That's right, but all skin colors matter," You were never too young to learn about the importance of equality and race.

"Huh?" Saxton said, banging his car into the door. Maybe, three was pushing it, though.