My Little Kiwi [H.S] ✔️

Chapter Eight

I walk over to Hazel, pick her up, and hold her close. I honestly have no idea what to do right now. I'm stuck and lost. So I hold my whole world in my arms.
"I love you." I whisper, a single tear trickling down my cheek.

As Hazel entertains herself with some baby toys, I try to think of a solution to this babysitting business. I pace around my living room, thinking hard, trying to get an idea to come to my overflowing mind. What do I do? C'mon Harry, think. You have less than three hours to think of something, think!

Okay, let's see. I could go around my neighborhood to see if anyone could babysit. But I've been around my whole neighborhood. Well, my house is kind of hidden from everyone else's, but I've gone on walks and looked at all the houses. None look or sound like they have kids. And I'm pretty sure none of these people babysit. They all look pretty dang rich. Plus, I would feel pretty pathetic going around the houses asking if they could babysit. Okay, that won't work.

Let me keep thinking.......

Agh! I can't think of anything! Not one dang idea! I think I'm having a hard time because I can't stop thinking of Melissa. I just can't believe she broke up with me. I understand her reasons, I just didn't see it coming. No, Harry. You need to find a babysitter. Stop. Okay, think......

"IDEA!" I yell, making Hazel look at me with her lips pursed, then her face slowly melts into a smile and she laughs. I shake my head and laugh too. Despite everything that's happening, Hazel never fails to make me smile in someway or another.

Back to my idea. I take out my phone and in the Google search bar, I type in 'babysitters in London'. I expect a lot of links to come up, and there are. Hundreds and hundreds of them. I can't believe there are this many in just London alone. I click the first link; Dawson's Daycare and Babysitting Center. Sounds promising.

When the website comes up, bright colors appear in front of my eyes. Text boxes and pictures of adults and children having the time of their lives appear everywhere. I search the website until I find a phone number. I click it and it starts calling. I take a deep breath and hold the phone over my ear. I hear a women with a robotic voice come through.

"Hello, welcome to Dawson's Daycare and Babysitting Center, my name is Katy! How may I help you?" She asks, pronouncing every syllable perfectly.

"Hi, I need a babysitter." I say awkwardly. Never would I think I would be doing this.

"Well, we can certainly help you with that! Can I get an age for your little one please?" She asks kindly. Crap, what do I say? I don't know how old she is.

"Um, my daughter is two months old." I respond, taking a wild guess. I make a mental note in my head to make a doctor's appointment. It'll be good to know all this info for future references.

"Great! What's your address, please, sir?" I give her my address, being a little hesitant and nervous about this. This could very well be a scam.

"Thank you! What time do you need the babysitter at your house and what time will you be returning?"

"The babysitter should be here at 5:45. I'll be leaving around 6:00 and return around 7:00." I say, giving my best estimate.

"Just so you know, if you aren't back by 7:00, we give our clients an extra ten minutes to return if they are late. If you're not back in that time, we do have to call and ask you to return." Okay. I should be back by 7:00. I hope.