This is from Maria's Perspective
I was standing in line behind a very expensive car I didn’t recognize in my old Toyota at the entrance of the gated community where Mr. and Mrs. Allen lived. It’s been a year of coming here, and I still can’t help but feel a bit out of place. Their luxurious home was nestled in this exclusive neighborhood nine miles away from my humble abode in a more modest part of town.
The security guard looked weirdly at my car but quickly recognized me as I pulled. After a quick chat, he opened the gate and waved me through. I drove down the winding streets lined with immaculate landscaping, leading me to the Allen residence. I parked my car around the side of their grandiose house, careful to leave enough room for others to drive past.
Today was a special day for the Allens, as they were going out to celebrate their anniversary. This meant that my duties would extend to an overnight babysitting session. I turned off the car and silently said a prayer, asking for guidance and strength.
I picked up my phone and tapped out a quick message to my sister Rosalina, letting her know that I had arrived and would be busy for a few hours until the kids went to bed. If I didn’t warn her, she just might send a search party if I don’t respond.
To my surprise, a response from Rosalina buzzed in before I could even put the phone down. She said she was swamped at the hospital, dealing with an influx of patients who either had stupid issues or had managed to hurt themselves through sheer stupidity. I closed my eyes and shook my head, chuckling at the irony of her sending such a long response while claiming to be “busy.” My sister always had a way of making me smile, even during the most challenging times.
Whether it was hard for her or for me.
I opened my eyes, looked at the house, and then at my watch. I was early, as always.
With another soft shake of my head, I pocketed my phone and grabbed my overnight bag from the backseat. Taking a deep breath, I exited the car and walked towards Allen’s front door. I said another silent prayer as I approached, my fingers tightening around the strap of my bag.
I knocked on the door to announce my arrival, and without a response, I didn’t hesitate to turn the doorknob and step inside. As soon as I crossed the threshold with one foot, the Allen children came rushing towards me, their faces beaming excitedly.
“Maria!” they squealed in unison. Before I could set my bag down, they wrapped their arms around me in a warm, affectionate embrace. I barely got both feet in the house and didn’t close the door or put my bag down.
“Guess what, Maria?” little Emma, the six-year-old, began, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Today, in school, I drew a picture of a butterfly, and my teacher said it was the prettiest one she’d ever seen!”
“No, no, no!” her 4-year-old brother, Michael, interjected, eager to share his own news. “Maria, you won’t believe what happened during soccer practice today! I scored the winning goal for my team! The coach said I’m a natural!”
Both children spoke over each other, their voices raising pitch as they clamored for my attention. I couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm and the energy they brought into the room.
“Wait, wait,” I said, gently raising my hands to quiet them down. It didn’t help, so I booped them in the forehead “One at a time, por favor. I want to hear about your days, but let’s give each other a chance to speak.”
Somehow, I managed to waddle and drag the kids to the living room while they clung to me. Derrick, the Allens’ personal bodyguard, and driver, sat on a couch dressed in his usual suit, smirking at my struggles.
“Derrick, don’t just sit there and smirk,” I chided him, trying to maintain a stern expression despite the amusement in my eyes.
He quickly apologized, his smirk transforming into a good-natured grin. “Sorry, Maria,” he said as he got up from the couch and scooped Michael into the air, playfully tickling him while the little boy giggled uncontrollably. Emma, not wanting to be next, hid behind me, her eyes wide with anticipation.
Derrick glanced at his watch and said, “I’m all set and waiting to drive Mr. Allen to dinner. It should be any minute now. Do you want me to pick you up anything on the boss’s tab?” He lowered Michael back down to the floor, laying him flat, allowing him to catch his breath.
I responded with a disapproving look, shaking my head. “That would be wrong, and you know it.”
The kids, however, perked up at the idea and started squealing about the possibility of sweets. Derrick winked at them conspiratorially and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
I placed my bag next to one of the couches and turned my attention to the kids, my expression turning serious. “Did you both get ready for bed and shower?” I asked, looking from Emma to Michael.
Both kids nodded eagerly. “Yes,” they chorused.
With a glint in his eye, Michael added, “I just need to take my medication around 7, and that’s it.” He paused momentarily, then said, “I’ll take it without a fuss if you give me 44 more minutes of tablet time.”
I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head, unimpressed by his negotiation tactics. “Now listen, you know that’s against the rules. You know better.”
Michael, clearly not one to give up easily, countered, “But it will be easier for you if I get 22 minutes.” his threat was very veiled for a 4-year-old.
I huffed, considering the offer. It was a good and fair one. “Fine, but you take your medicine first, then you get 22 minutes,” I said, giving in just this once.
Michael and Emma grinned as though they had won the lottery, their faces lighting up with delight. They nodded in unison, which caused both Derrick and me to laugh at their shared triumph.
I heard a door open down the hall and glanced just in time to see Mr. Allen emerge from the hallway, a frustrated look etched across his face. However, when he spotted the kids and me on the couch, his expression transformed into a warm smile. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something.
Before Mr. Allen could utter a single word, Mrs. Allen stormed out from behind him, her voice raised in anger. “You couldn’t come home on time from work, at least on our anniversary!” she yelled, clearly upset.
My heart ached for the children, but when I glanced at them, they seemed unfazed, as if this was nothing new. They simply waved at their parents without saying a word. That made it worse.
Derrick, ever the professional, walked towards the door and informed them that everything was ready to go. Mr. Allen, trying to maintain his composure, walked up to us, kissed the kids goodbye, and thanked me for taking care of them.
Derrick led Mr. and Mrs. Allen out of the house, and just as Mrs. Allen attempted to slam the door in her frustration, he deftly caught it, preventing any further commotion.
With the door closed and the Allens on their way, the kids suddenly spun around on their knees to face me. After a brief stare-down, they excitedly suggested playing some board games.
“Is all your homework done?” I asked, trying to maintain a sense of order. They both nodded yes, their eyes rolling with boredom. With a chuckle, I agreed to play some board games with them.
The kids raced out of the room, bouncing off the walls, and returned moments later with their arms full of games to choose from. I instructed them to pick one game each and put the rest away. They hurried off to do as they were told, giggling the whole time.
When they returned, we played their chosen games, the time passing quickly until it was 7 o’clock and time for Michael’s medication. With an extended hand, he eagerly asked for the tablet, but I reminded him that he had to take his medicine first.
Without protest, Michael took his medication and then happily claimed his 22 minutes of screen time with Emma over his shoulder, engrossed in an episode of a show I didn’t recognize. Meanwhile, I cleaned up the board games and took a moment to check the kids’ bedrooms and kitchen to see if anything needed tidying up.
As the 22 minutes passed, the kids found me in the kitchen, brewing myself a cup of calming chamomile tea. Their episode had just ended, and they knew the importance of honoring our negotiated deal. They approached me without any hint of sneakiness and handed the tablet back.
They learned from experience that breaking deals were terrible for me. They got better results by being honest and upfront.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the tablet. “Now, go brush your teeth and change for bed.” I made a shooing motion with my hands, and they didn’t protest.
The kids marched off to their separate bathrooms, and about ten minutes later, they returned to report that they were ready for bed. With pride, they showed their teeth were brushed and dressed in their cozy pajamas. They awaited my approval.
I smiled and nodded, pleased with their compliance. Together, we walked down the hall to their bedrooms. As I tucked them into their beds, they snuggled down into the soft blankets, their eyes heavy with sleep. I kissed each of them on the forehead, whispering a gentle “Goodnight” before turning off the lights and leaving their rooms, the soft sounds of their steady breathing reassuring me that they were at peace.
Returning to the couch, I pulled out my phone. I discovered 20 messages from my sister Rosalina, including several memes and GIFs. I couldn’t help but shake my head at her seemingly boundless energy. Thinking back 7 years, I didn’t have that much power.
I texted her back, letting her know that the kids were in bed and that I would try to catch some sleep before Allens returned home. I held onto my phone, knowing her response would come quickly.
As expected, Rosalina’s reply came almost instantly, asking what time that would be. I responded, estimating it would be around 2 or 3 in the morning. She wished me good luck and reminded me to stay safe. Immediately after, she sent another meme of a cat drinking a bottle of something and falling over with “Zzzz” floating from its head, which made me chuckle despite myself.
Before I could respond, Rosalina informed me that she was about to clock out since the ER seemed to have cleared up and the subsequent shift had all arrived, to her surprise. She promised to give the girls a goodnight kiss when she got home.
I sighed and glanced at the cold fireplace, my thoughts drifting to my daughters. I missed them dearly whenever I was away from them. Shaking off the melancholy, I returned to my phone and thanked Rosalina, wishing her a safe drive and a good night.
I set my alarm for 1:45 am and opened the Prayers and Bible app on my phone. As I finished my routine prayers and readings, I received a message from Rosalina. She had sent me a selfie of herself walking into our home, her face lighting up the screen.
In response, I sent her a playful selfie, pretending to be fast asleep. She quickly replied with a photo of her sticking her tongue out and another selfie featuring her with my kids. Their faces brought a smile to my own.
I snapped one final picture, blowing a kiss at the camera, and sent it along with a message bidding them all good night. With that, I placed my phone on the coffee table. I stretched out on the couch, allowing myself to drift off to sleep, ignoring any further notifications on my phone. The brief reprieve would help me stay alert for the remainder of the night when Allens returned.