Les Miserables Short Stories-An ongoing series written by pheelingmusical

Babysitting

  "Come on, they're angels. Really sweet-give it a try. Besides, you need the money." Grantaire urged Enjolras.

   "Snobby, restless, bags of snot? No thanks. I'd rather mow the lawn." Enjolras picked up the nearest newspaper column and moved his finger down the job listings.

   "But Comb has the sweetest siblings-they're harmless." Grantaire put on his puppy eyes and put his face in his. "I always sit for him when he needs the help-" he paused, "and I heard Comb has the largest collection on history books." Grantaire smiled while Enjolras perked up.

   "Okay. I'm in."

----------------

   "This is Amber, Agnes, and Wes." Comb was scattered all over the place-obviously in a hurry to be somewhere.

    "I'm eight." Agnes held up eight fingers. Enjolras scoffed and bent down to say, "Well I'm this many." He flashed ten fingers, then eight more. Agnes' jaw dropped, and said, "You're so old."

   "Yes-Amber is fifteen, don't mess with her she's still a teen. Feed her and you'll be fine." Comb was halfway out the door-then gone.

   "I'll be in my room-don't bring me out until there's food." Amber headed up the stairs and closed her room door.

   "Hi, I'm Wesley. Call me Wes," Wes handed Enjolras a business card.

      "Wesley, Harvard school of Law, John Hopkins school of Medicine." Enjolras read out.

   "I'm an intern at Baylor during summers."

   "Age twelve." Grantaire ruffled Wes' hair and tackled him to the couch.

   "He beat you, Enjolras." He smiled, "Child genius."

   Enjolras went red, and said, "I'm going to the study to read." He walked to the glass doors and shut them abruptly.

   ------------

   "Amber thinks you have a cute butt." A small voice came from underneath Enjolras.

   "Little small demon, where are you?" Enjolras closed the book and looked around, then to see a head pop out from underneath the couch he sat on.

   "And a hot face. How can a butt be cute? Do you have a fever?" Agnes crawled on top of Enjolras and felt his forehead. She frowned when she touched his head. "No, it's not warm."

   "I think by hot, Amber meant Enjolras has attractive facial figures and that he is a well suitor for mating. The buttox remark, I am unsure of though. I am not completely fluent in teenage speak." Wesley appeared from the rope ladder on the terrace.

  "She's taking to Marilyn on the phone again." Agnes sat in Enjolras' lap. "Dad doesn't like Marilyn." She raised her eyebrows.

  "We're you eavesdropping again?"

  "No!"

  "Liar!"

  "Nuh-uh!"

  "Uh-huh!"

  "Nuh-uh!"

  "GRANTAAAAIREEEEEEEEE!" Enjolras groaned. Both of the kids went quiet.

  "There's no need to shout." Agnes rolled her eyes. Grantaire entered through the sliding glass doors.

  "What's wrong?"

  Enjolras had each hand pointed to the two kids. "This ones got a loudmouth and this one is disturbing."

   "They're kids."

   "I don't like kids."

   "Enjolras do you like to bake?" Agnes put her arms around his neck like a baby koala would to his mother. She got close up to his face, going, "Hmmm? Hmmmmm?"

"If I said yes will you leave me alone?"

"Maybe,"

"Then yes."

Agnes squealed with delight and took his right hand. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"That's right, Enjolras. Let's go." Grantaire laughed and followed him and the kids out the doors.

_________

   "Okay, so all you need is two eggs, a stick of butter, milk, and chocolate chips!" Agnes stood on the countertop, reaching up for the mixing bowls in the upper cabinets. Enjolras picked her off the counter and set her on the floor.

   "If you want to fall and break your skull I'll put you back up there with no obligation, until then I'll get that." Enjolras said.

   "Okay, I'll go get the jello cups."

   "Why do we need jello cups?"

   "You always need jello cups to eat when you bake cupcakes." Agnes said it like it was common sense, rolling her eyes. "You can get started on the batter."

   Grantaire watched from the bar, helping Wes with his school art project.

   ________

   "What is this?" Agnes scooped up the slop that was in the mixing bowl and held it up to the light-inspecting it like it was some sort of creature.

   "It's cake batter. I think I got the hang of it-I even got to put the chocolate chips in." Enjolras smiled.

   "It's like," she paused, "tar with bugs."

   Agnes did not lie. The tar-like cake batter was a goey substance that had "chocolate chips" mixed in. Although, they looked more like raisins.

   "This is vile." Agnes slapped the the spoon back down into the bowl-but it was more like the vile batter had pulled it bsck in. It was nearly elastic.

   Droplets of batter covered Enjolras' face, shirt-and even got in his eyes.

   "You little, bag of snot!" Enjolras took a handful of the batter and swung it in the little girl's direction. She ducked-and it hit Wes square in the face.

   Food-batter mostly-raw eggs and cake ingredients went flying across the room, hitting the fridge, windows, floors, tables, couches. Wes was chucking chocolate chips, Enjolras throwing cake batter, Agnes throwing eggs.

   Then, the food stopped, their stock of artillery was depleted. All of them, laughing on the floor, tacking each other-they were like family. Although-one person was missing this whole time.

   Grantaire appeared in the kitchen, completely clean, and holding sponges, mops, rags and a bucket of soapy water.

   "Clean up, everybody do your share." He smiled while holding out the supplies.

   The next few hours were spent scrubbing the surrounding areas of the kitchen. All the kids were in bed-Amber was talking on the phone as normal.

   "They really are a joy, aren't they?" Grantaire leaned up against the door frame.

   "Yeah, they are." Enjolras admitted, removing his plastic gloves.

   "Do you think you'd ever have kids in the future?" Grantaire looked hopefully up into his eyes.

   "Most definitely."