Unlicensed Babysitter

Awkward Conversation

Water droplets drip onto my shirt and soak into the material. I pat my hair dry then shake it out, making a funny noise with my mouth. I've been spending all morning pumping myself up for the talk I promised myself I'd have with Emma. My shower ran long as I tried to figure out what I might say, and I came up with moot.

Sighing, I brush my hair off my forehead and head out of my bedroom. I'm still not entirely sure what I'll say to Emma, but I think I can fake it long enough for Emma to get her feelings out. Hopefully she'll keep talking and all I'll have to do is listen. By the end, if everything goes well, Emma will have vented and I'll feel better knowing I won't have to walk on eggshells.

I arrive before Emma's door and remain still, listening for signs of life. Sometimes she's downstairs before I'm awake and ready but this morning she's still in her room. I hear her reading, the soft hush of pages turning telling me so. I don't blame her for not being out and about yet. She probably doesn't want to face Richard after last night, the same way I don't want to face Mariam.

Squaring my shoulders, I wet my lips and force myself to knock on Emma's door. The knock is so soft that I don't think Emma hears it, so I knock again, harder this time. It's too hard and I hear Emma exclaim in surprise. Already I'm messing up.

"Go away, Richard," Emma shouts. "I don't want to talk to you."

I shuffle my feet and run a hand through my hair, catching weak tangles. "Uh, it's me," I say. "Cas?"

Things go silent for a long minute. "Did Richard send you?"

"No, no." I scratch the back of my head. I probably sound like I'm lying to her. "I, uh... Just want to talk, if that's okay. Of my own free will."

A book closes and blankets ruffle. "Talk?"

"Yeah, talk. Maybe without this door between us."

"Right. Come in."

Cautiously, I open Emma's door and peek inside. She's lying in her undone bed, her jammies rumpled and her hair mussed, but her eyes bright. There's a book on her lap and both her hands are clutching it. I step fully into her room then close her door firmly and lean on it. It's uncomfortable to be here before Emma is ready. I've never seen her with sleepy hair and jammies. It's... intimate. The only other person I've seen this way is Mariam, and that's only because we've known each other for years.

"So," Emma says. "You wanted to talk?"

"Oh, right." I wonder what to do with myself since I still don't have a plan. It feels weird that Emma is so comfortable while I'm standing awkwardly by the door. But that's the way it is. I clear my throat and try to appear as nonchalant as possible. "Last night..."

Emma narrows her eyes. "Richard did send you," she accuses. "I told him I'd take responsibility already."

I hold up my hands. "No, that's not why I'm here. By last night I meant I heard you crying." Emma's face goes red in embarrassment but I keep going. "You didn't stop for a really long time and I wasn't sure what I should do but I thought I should visit you this morning and see if you're okay."

Blinking dumbly at me, Emma straightens her legs under the covers. "You... You're checking up on me?"

I shrug. "Well, yeah."

"Did Mariam ask you to?"

"Is it really so hard believe I care?" My mouth clamps shut, my own disbelief showing. I can't believe I just said that. The worst part, though, is that I think it's true. Emma's a job first but... I think I'd be a little hurt if she died, and not only because that'd mean I'm a failure. Emma's a nice girl with a good heart and large brain- the world would miss her.