The Christmas Manny

“Who are you? I’m not opposed to talk to strangers,” the little boy in dinosaur pajamas said, peering up at me with big green eyes filled with curiosity.

Tapping my chin, I stared down at him. “Are you supposed to answer the front door by yourself?”

He checked over his shoulder, found the coast clear, and shook his head from side to side. “Nope. Nana says I have to wait for her or Daddy to answer the door, but he’s in the shower because I assidentaly spilled my cereal, and he had to clean it up, so it made him late. But I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an axident.” His voice got thick with tears as he continued, “I only wanted to show him I could be a big helper like Sissy.”

Hunching down in front of him so that we were eye level, I grabbed his little hands, ignoring the fact he’d just swiped one of them under his nose. “Don’t worry. I bet your daddy knows that, and he’s not even upset.” I hoped. “But you know what he wouldn’t like?” The little guy shook his head back and forth again. Too cute. “He wouldn’t like that you ignored his and your nana’s rule to not answer the door by yourself. I’m a good guy, but what if I had been someone else?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do I know you not bad?”

I shrugged, but before I could say, You don’t, a deep voice said sternly, “You don’t. Maximus, what have I told you?” Good gravy, I hoped they normally called him Max because he was just a peanut, and Maximus was a mouthful.

The little boy whirled around to face the hot-as-fuck, thoroughly pissed-off man who I assumed was his father. “I know I’m not opposed to, but you had to take a shower because I made a mess, and I wanted to show you I can be a big helper like Sissy.”

How the dad, Mr. Teake, according to the agency, answered this question would tell me a lot about the man. It was only a three-day assignment, so it shouldn’t really matter, but I seriously disliked working for people who didn’t treat their children well. My best friend said that made no sense because without families needing mannies, I’d be out of work. But I tended to attach to the children I watched pretty quickly, and when their parents were jerks, it broke my heart, and I worried like a crazy person.

Mr. Teake didn’t disappoint me, though. His eyes, the same pale green as his sons with a hint of sadness, softened, and he lay his big hand on his little blond head. “I know, Max. And I appreciate you wanting to help, but even Rebecca knows better than to answer the door.”

“That’s why I went and got Daddy, stupid,” a little girl said, probably a few years older than her little brother, in a sassy know-it-all voice from farther back in the hallway.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the man’s sigh. If I wasn’t mistaken, it took everything in him not to roll his eyes as he craned his neck to look at her. “We don’t call each other names in this house, Rebecca. You know better than that.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she mumbled, with complete repentance and sincerity. Nice, she was actually a good kid, even if she’d wanted to stick it to her brother a little bit. I could work with that.

My laugh escaped when I glanced down to see Max sticking his tongue out at his sister. Mr. Teake caught it, too, but very pointedly ignored it and focused on me. “I’m assuming you’re Jace.”