If I Should Be Quite Honest

7

They wanted me to start early, on Wednesday, instead of Friday, because they had "an impromptu engagement to attend." This was Mrs Anderson talking. They were both lawyers. When she had called, I wanted her to have the wrong number. She sounded impatient.
I had said ok, because I didn't find myself with anything else to do.
Ren said it was fine too, not that I actually needed her consent. Like I said, she couldn't exactly ground me. I had done this hundreds of times before. I was good at it.
After school, Taron said he'd drive me there. I said that it was fine, I'd walk, but he was taking this whole 'I like you,' thing seriously and he insisted.
I knew the way, having walked there plenty of times after school for a few years. I had seen two little kids grow up a little more until they moved. Jane and Timothy. They had drawn a picture for me as a present. It depicted three stick figures holding hands, me and them, with smiles longer than our arms. I found it funnier that they saw me that way. Smiley.
I missed them.

But I didn't have time to miss them when I had to get accustomed to three new kids. The two older ones stood prettily in the centre of the sitting room, on the Snow White carpet, hands behind their backs. I slightly frowned when I saw this. They're mother had opened the door for me, looking me up and down, "Tatiana?"
"Yes," I say, then remember my courtesies, "Hi."
"Hello," she nodded, standing back for me to enter. She walked behind me as if I knew where I was meant to go. I had been in this house enough to know every inch of it, but I still stopped half way down the hall.
"They're in the family room." I made a left. "Mildred and Eustace," Mrs Anderson pointed to the girl and the boy, as if I couldn't know.
They hold out their hands to shake mine. It's sort of cute, but I couldn't imagine Amara and Pasha doing the same thing.
I started to make my first impression of these two, and the more I studied them, the more they looked like mini adults.

"Mr Anderson and I will be leaving shortly, the baby is upstairs. Would you like to see her?"
I nodded. Might as well.
I followed her up the steps, glancing at all the pictures they had strung up. They all looked so happy.
The baby was awake, but she wasn't much of a baby. She was almost two, I'd call that a toddler. "This is Maisie," Mrs Anderson told me, lifting the child out of the crib and handing her to me. I was a bit taken aback by this, but I didn't drop her.
The baby grabbed a fistful of my hair, but didn't pull it. She smiled at me like she knew something I did not.
"Millicent? Which tie should I go with?" I heard a man's voice call. He appeared at the nursery door, and stopped short when he saw us.
I had seen my share of disheveled men, so I didn't bat an eyelid, seeing much worse and less dressed, but the guy went bright red.
He was otherwise dressed, but had a few buttons undone, and he held two ties, one red, one brown.
Yet, Mrs Anderson, when I looked back at her, looked unimpressed, and sighed, "Evan, this is the nanny. Tatiana."
She folded her arms, so I guess Mr Anderson took this as an indication he should shake my hand too. Millicent was running a tight ship around here. He came froward, putting both ties in one hand and I put Maisie at my hip, shaking his hand. He looked sceptical in a way, like he didn't really trust me.
"Nanny? She's young. I thought you said she was eighteen."
"I'm seventeen," I say.
"Dana and Tom say she's good. It's good enough for me," Mrs Anderson asserted, firmly. She looked at me, "Red or brown?"
I stare at her blankly, until I get what she's talking about. I look at her husband for a few seconds. He holds up the ties so I can look better, "Red," I say. In my opinion, brown ties shouldn't really exist.
"Alright then," Mr Anderson disappears back down the hall.
His wife shakes her head, "And they say women take their time. Come with me."
I follow her back downstairs, holding Maisie tightly. She was a very quiet child, like her siblings, who, in the time I had been gone, had simply sat on the couch beside each other, in silence.

She showed me their dinner, ready made, with a salad, and that they should do their homework and they were to be allotted an hour of tv before bed, where they should, "promptly brush their teeth and subsequently wash their faces." They were to be in bed by eight thirty. I said ok.
When they were leaving, Mr Anderson smiled at me. It was quick, but I saw it. It made me feel a little better that his kids didn't seem to like me except the baby, who couldn't hate people yet.