Sincerely, Dr. Cruz

Thirteen: Babysitting Ben

Chapter Thirteen: Babysitting Ben
Providence, Rhode Island

“This is so weird.” I told myself.

Earlier today, I told Neal that I would babysit his uh, son.

After he made his statement about having a son that needed a babysitter because all of his other ones couldn’t handle him and the wild schedule Neal had, he was freaking out about the well being of his son. You can’t exactly have a four year old lounging around a hospital.

“That means that the little boy in those pictures at his house were of his son.”

Oh, I had been talking to myself in the car on the way back home.

“But how come his son is never home whenever I’m there? Oh shut up Reina, you’ve only been there twice. But still, why do I feel like he’s been hiding something. I wonder why his previous babysitters couldn’t handle him. I’ve never actually babysat. Why did you say yes Reina!?”

This was my typical freak out session. Don’t mind me

*****

August 2nd, 2014
Neal’s House: East Providence, Rhode Island

“Okay, so I realize that you’re only four but what do you like to do?”

I had spent the last 5 minutes trying to talk to Ben, who was just unimpressed with everything I did.

“Please?” I even pouted my lips for this little boy.

“Let’s play with the ball.” He said as he stood up on his feet and wobbled over to this toy chest he had in his room, before coming back with a small blue ball. He plopped back down on the floor in front of me and threw the ball so it bounced a couple of times before reaching me, which was good because I had no athletic ability whatsoever.

Surprisingly, we spent our time talking. Well him in his four year old language anyways. We made a deal that for every time we caught the ball, we got to ask each other questions. Ben’s favorite color was blue, his favorite food is pizza, he loves the Power Rangers, and his favorite cartoon is Mickey Mouse. He was ecstatic with our common interest in Mickey Mouse. I was instantly his new best friend, which warmed my heart. Tired of the ball, we both ventured to explore Neal’s collection of movies, and found a series of Mickey Mouse cartoons, (no doubt purchased for Ben) perfect for the situation.

I didn’t know I could have a great time with a mature four year old. Then again, I was secretly a five year old at heart according to Brad. Bleh.

Halfway through our third set of cartoons, Neal strolled in through the front door. Ben was happily eating a sandwich I made, and I was *this* close to falling asleep on the couch. Being a resident was definitely draining.

“Daddy!”

Okay, so kids call their fathers daddy all the time, but I swear to god this was the cutest “Daddy!” I had ever heard in my life. The sudden urge to sleep left me, and I smiled at Neal who was now carrying Ben back to his seat at the dining table.

“Finish your dinner first Ben, then we can talk okay?”

For some reason I felt as though talking was Ben’s favorite pastime.

“Did you eat Reina?”

My imaginary thought bubble popped as I realized that Neal was talking to me.

“I ate before I came, so I’m not really hungry I guess. I don’t normally eat until after nine so.”

Neal gave a slow nod, I guess deciding whether or not to believe me. He let it go though.

”Mickey Mouse huh?” Neal asked with a certain amused gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah Daddy. Reina really likes Mickey Mouse too, so we watched a lot a lot a lot of Mickey Mouse.”

Neal turned back to his son, who was now putting his plates in the sink (he stepped on this little stepstool thing and it’s so cute ohmygawd). “Really?” He turned back to me with an amused smile. “A lot a lot a lot?”

I smiled so big that I felt like my face was going to fall off. “A lot a lot a lot.”

Neal started laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Ben said, his little eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay sorry Ben.” Neal said, not removing the dorky grin from his face. He walked by Ben to what was presumably his room, but stopped to pinch Ben’s cheek first.

“Hey!” Ben said, smiling but swatting at Neal’s hand.

Ben came back to join me on the couch, and literally within 10 minutes the little boy was fast asleep, his head on my thigh and his little legs sprawled about the couch. I felt myself nodding off when Neal sat down next to me on his couch—in much more casual attire. Well, if a crisp white shirt and Nike sweats was casual.

“You tired?” He asked, in a much quieter voice noting his son.

“Kind of.” I said stifling a yawn.

We continued watching Mickey Mouse as awkward as it was, and I didn’t know when I crashed, but I fell asleep with my head resting a firm surface.

Definitely not the couch.

 AN: And there you go.