Kissable

3.

A knock on my door brings me out of my drowsy day-dreaming state of consciousness. I sit up and smooth my auburn curls down before I get up and open the door. Mr. Kensington holds out a file to me. I take it and look over it in confusion, to which he chuckles.

"It's just a file of emergency numbers, specific chores, the children's schedules, Ambrosia and I's current schedules for traveling and you're first paycheck in advance. Your paychecks will be weekly on Friday's. Any questions so far?"

I pull a pack of papers out of the file and flip through them a bit before shaking my head. "I'll look over these tonight and let you know if I end up with any questions. Is it almost time for supper?"

Mr. Kensington nods and adjusts his tie. "Get the children ready and come downstairs."

He heads back towards the stairs, leaving me to set the file of papers on the vanity and close the bedroom door behind me. I knock at the first bedroom, not quite sure which kid it belongs to. None of the doors have names engraved on them and each set of doors look identical. Unsure if I'm supposed to just go in, I knock at the door again.

It swings open to reveal Scarlett, the youngest child and only girl of the children. I bend down a bit to be more her height. "Hey, kiddo. Can you go wash your hands and face and head downstairs for supper?"

She makes a face at me and shuts the door without a word. I frown. Just earlier she and her brother's had been so curious about me up on the stairs. Noah had obviously taken to me when he gave me the tour, but I hadn't had a chance to really click with the other two. It makes sense that Scarlett should be a little bitter though; did she think I was going to take over her mother's place in her life?

I knock at the door again, insistent on not giving up. "Come on, Scarlett. You're going to get ready, aren't you?"

"She doesn't like washing her hands and face."

I look over at the voice, then grin to see Noah. "Why not?"

He shrugs and knocks at Jackson's door. "She just doesn't like it."

I frown at the door and try to think of another way to get her out and ready to bring downstairs. Mr. Kensington probably wants to test me, which is why he's given me this task. To prove whether or not I can get the children to listen to me, and be prompt. Well, I'm not going to let him down.

"Scarlett, if you wash your hands and face, I'll tell you a story."

Silence greets me. Noah looks at me curiously, and after a moment, Jackson joins him. Still, no response. Then, ever so slowly and quietly, the door is pulled open.

"Do I get to pick the story?"

I smile. "Yeah. You can pick the story. Now come on, let's get ready for supper! Noah, Jackson, you two wash up too, okay?"

The boys, surprisingly, don't give me a hard time. They both go into Jackson's room to his bathroom to wash up and I follow Scarlett into her room. She's precisely the way I'd imagine a young, rich girl to have her room; the large bed is covered in an abundance of stuffed animals and the color purple. The walls are pink and sparkly with art of unicorns adorning the ceiling and the top border of the walls. She has a few massive dollhouses and an entire box of Barbie dolls.

Her bathroom is smaller though and more simple. I pull a little stool over to help her climb onto it to reach over the sink and wash her hands. She's a little reluctant about it, trying to half-ass the job, but I help her do it properly. By the end of it, I've got her laughing; peals of laughter echo through the room and make us both shake with the jolly of it.