In Blair's opinion, eight in the morning was far too early to be expected to arrive at her job. She was a nanny after all. Most of the time the kids weren't even up until around eight thirty. But as Blair pulled up into the neat driveway and emerald yard of the Jones' house, she also thought it was far too late to run the sprinkler in the early July sun.
Blair stepped out of the car, and immediately a wave of humidity hit her. It didn't matter though. By this time she was thoroughly used to the fickle Louisville weather.
The house towered over Blair as she walked the drive, windows glinting in the early morning sun, casting a long shadow as she reached the front door and rang the doorbell. It trilled several times before the door opened. She had to look down to see who opened the door.
It was tiny Henry Jones, barely four years old, and he was shaking with excitement.
"Are you going to stay for a long time today?" He asked meekly. Blair smiled.
"Yes buddy. Your mommy has to go to work today, so I'll be staying as long as I usually do," Henry nodded.
"Yeah I know," Henry said like he hadn't asked the question in the first place. Blair followed him as he walked back into the house on clumsy legs.
Mrs. Jones was in the kitchen, typing away at her laptop, even at the early time. Or, early for Blair. She barely took notice of Blair until Blair coughed slightly. Mrs. Jones' head snapped up from her laptop.
"Oh is it that time already?" Mrs. Jones said. Blair could see the relief in her eyes."Just let me finish up one thing before I leave,"
Like I have a choice, Blair thought. She liked Mrs. Jones; it was just that at times she could be either intense or wave you off. It depended on her mood, which was always changing. In a way, she sort of reminded Blair of her mother. Except Blair would rather be with Mrs. Jones.
Mrs. Jones spent a few more minutes typing at her keyboard while Blair helped herself to a glass of water. She was already keeping an eye on Henry, who was in the large living room, playing with toy cars.
Mrs. Jones finished up quickly, packing up her stuff at the speed of light.
"You know the drill," she said, pointing in Blair's direction, "I'll be back around 5:30 today. Bye-bye Henry. Love you!" she said, waving at the little boy. He waved back before turning to his cars. And with that Mrs. Jones was out the door.
Blair sighed and walked over to Henry, who was eagerly smashing other cars into each other.
"This one is a battle against my favourite candy! Snickers or Skittles!" Then he smashed the cars together, letting them roll off in different directions. One went under the couch, meaning that Blair had to find it and retrieve it.
"Can you stop making so much noise? I'm trying to sleep," a groggy voice came from the stairs. Blair could just barely see who it was from her perch on the couch.
"Good morning Mary," Blair said quietly.
Mary greatly resembled her brother Henry. They both had thick blond hair that was so light it was almost transparent and large hands with long, pudgy fingers. Their noses, lips, and expressions were almost identical. And they both hated it. The two younger children had never gotten along, much to Blair's disappointment, even though they were less than three years apart, Mary being six ("almost seven," she insisted)
"Hi Blair," Mary said, immediately perking up. She skipped her way downstairs and plopped down next to Blair.
"What are we doing today?" Mary asked eagerly. Blair smiled.
"I was thinking that maybe we could make a cake and cards,"
"For who?" Came a voice at the top of the stairs. So Camdon had decided to join them.
Camdon looked different from the rest of his siblings, with dark hair and eyes. He had a long, lanky figure, and big feet he hadn't quite grown into yet. He was quite a bit older too, 12.
"My dad's birthday is tomorrow," Blair explained.
"Then why would we make a cake today?" Camdon said.
"The cake is for you and the cards are for my dad," Blair elaborated. Camdon nodded a bit. All was quiet for a moment, then Henry decided to smash a car into Mary's knee, sending her into a screaming fit. Mary threw the car in question toward Henry, and hit solidly to his ear, which made him start wailing as well. Camdon disappeared.
So Blair was left to calm down two screaming children and find a recipe for a gluten free cake for Mary's sake that everyone could enjoy.
Blair could already tell it was going to be a chaotic day.
<§>
"How old is your daddy going to be?"
"52,"
Henry made the "oh" face, putting on full display how much cake he had stuffed in his mouth. Icing covered his face and was smeared on his nose and chin and he wasn't even half finished.
"Can we make cards for him when we're finished?" Mary asked. Mary didn't have as much icing on her face, but she had refused to wash her hands after she had gotten cake batter all over them, preferring to lick them instead. Blair just rolled with it.
"Sure,"
Mary gave a brilliant smile.
"What would we even put on the cards?" Camdon said, in a better mood than he was previously. Must have been the influence of the cake.
"I don't know. Maybe... happy birthday?" Blair said. Camdon gave a small scowl, but she knew he didn't mean it. He didn't mean a lot: he was 12.
"I mean other than that," Camdon said.
"Anything you want, Camdon," Blair said.
Camdon looked at her with something similar to vague disappointment.
In the end, there were three expertly made cards and one subpar card, made by Blair. 5:30 was approaching quickly and found Blair feverishly cleaning up the mess of the kitchen before Mrs. Jones got home. The younger two children were watching a movie in the living room and Camdon had gone to his room, muttering something about "Summer Homework".
But Mary and Henry were happy and she hoped that Camdon was happy. She didn't want to clean the kitchen exactly, but it had to be done, and then Blair herself was happy. At this point in the night, Blair just wanted to go to her dad's small, immediate-family only birthday party, just him, her, and her mom. But first she had to get paid. And buy a gift, because she hadn't done that yet.
Blair sighed. When did life get so complicated, yet so simple? She kind of wanted to do away with it and make something of herself somewhere else, but when could she ever get out? Certainly not now. She couldn't even afford her own apartment.
Soon, the rumble of the garage announced the return of Mrs. Jones and the nightly dismissal of Blair. As soon as Mrs. Jones had paid her for the month, Blair rushed out the door to go home and get ready for dinner, and stop to get a present on her way.
During the car ride, Blair started to get anxious. David Travis had an old car in the garage that he had been working on when he could for the past six months. He had been looking for one part for weeks and Blair had just happened to come across it on E-Bay one while mindlessly scrolling through the internet. She just hoped he hadn't found it as well and hadn't announced it. That would make the whole dinner awkward.
Blair huffed a breath out. If anything else, he could keep the part for another car. The part wouldn't go to waste in the slightest.
She drove the rest of the way home, a slight bit of anxiety still eating at her stomach.
By the time she got home, dinner was already set and Blair was a mess. She had hoped to have time to take a shower, but apparently not. She only had time to change clothes before her mom's glare got too toxic.
When Blair finally came down, she had changed into a nice t-shirt and jeans, and Diana Travis was glaring daggers.
Blair loved her parents, yes, but sometimes her mom was too much to bear. With her stick straight ideas and posture to match, everything about her seemed to morph into something sharp, even though her chin and arms had a layer of fat on them that never seemed to go away no matter how many special cremes she used or how many diets she forced on the small family. Her words were as sweet as cider, and always left the taste of poison in the back of your throat.
David Travis, on the other hand, was a tall, thin, fit man. He always seemed to know what to say and when to say it, which helped Blair exceptionally during her angsty teenage years of little-self confidence where her mother couldn't. Despite his bony figure, Blair always thought that he gave the best hugs and he always had a hot drink waiting if you ever needed to talk.
Blair hoped she resembled David in her nature, because her appearance was purely Diana. Short and soft, but still with a slight sharpness. Her hair, her lips, the way she spoke was all Diana. Part of Blair hated herself for that.
At times, Blair wondered why her parents ever got together; they seemed to oppose each other in every way.
But now Diana Travis had the floor and Blair had to brace herself.
"I was just telling your father how rude it is that you show up late to his own birthday party," Diana said, nose upturned and back stick straight.
"Now, Diana," David tried. Today he seemed tired. Maybe a hard day at work? He did fix cars all day.
"No David, it is rude and your daughter should be ashamed," And there was another thing. "Your daughter". It was always "Your daughter" at home.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Blair said, butting in, "Took a little while to drive from the Joneses' too," Blair handed him the cards from the Jones children, her own card, and the present. He took them carefully in his hand, as if the paper were porcelain and read both the scratching and neat handwriting on each card.
"Tell the children I say thank you," David said as soon as he finished reading. He was grinning ear to ear over the small, untidy cards. He then opened the package with the car part and his smile got even wider.
"You found it," He said, before throwing back his head and laughing, "You really found it B,"
He got up from his chair and swept Blair into an unexpected hug. Blair sunk into it, despite her surprise.
"I've been looking for months. How'd you find it?" he asked.
Blair laughed.
"Got lucky I guess."
"Must have," David said before letting Blair go, still grinning. With that, he sat down.
"You'll have to help me put it in the old girl." He point back to the garage where the 1979 Ford Country Squire sat. He had been working to fix it up for months, and was almost finished and ready to drive, although it might not make it out of the garage for longer than three hours if David had his way.
"I wouldn't have it another way." Blair smiled.
The dinner toned back to silence and the scrapping of knives and forks. Blair picked at her steak.
"I was just thinking about your job, Blair," Diana said, breaking the silence suddenly. Blair hummed in response, hoping that she would actually ask about what she did for once, rather than berate her.
"Isn't it time for you to get a real job?" Diana said, glancing up to see Blair's reaction. The moment she said it, Blair's hope of getting a non-repeated question died.
"I already have a real job. Why would I need to get another?" Blair knew the reason, but she just wanted to hear it out loud. Or let her mother deny it. Either was good.
"Well," Diana started, taking a small sip of her wine, "It's not very good money, is it. And you have lived in this house for the past two years while all of your friends have gone to college. What do you want to do with your life?"
With every word her mom spoke, Blair could feel herself becoming more agitated.
"I love my job. And if I do recall, you were the one that insisted I stay here after you refused to pay for my college,"
"It was expensive!" Diana's face was turning ruddy, from anger or wine, Blair couldn't tell.
Blair bit back her retort of So is that wine and tried to school her expression. Emotions were already running high and this "party" didn't need a screaming match.
David was glancing between his wife and daughter like they were a tennis match mixed with a nuclear explosion. Blair was ashamed that she and her mom had ruined his little party, but Diana was just so frustrating. It was hard to ignore all the noise Diana made when she practically banged together pots and pans to get her point across.
"Then you should respect my decision to stay away from it until I can pay for it on my own," Blair said coolly.
"Gladly," Daina replied before taking another sip of her wine.
"Can't we have one day where we don't fight?" David said weakly, almost as if he knew the answer already. It was no.
"I don't know, Dad. You tell me," Blair said, arms crossed and glaring across the table. Diana met her gaze with a stare just as stoney.
David just sighed in return.
When Blair got up to her room after the disaster of the party, the first thing she did was call Ben.
Benjamin Arnold, plain and simple, was her best friend. They met when they were really young and never seemed to want to move on and make other friends. And why should they? They only really needed each other.
"Pick up Ben, come on pick up," Blair muttered into the receiver, tapping restless fingers against her leg.
The absence of the dull ringing in her ear told her that he had, in fact, picked up the phone, but he had yet to speak into the receiver.
"Ben, I know your there,"
"I know you know, I just wanted to annoy you,"
Blair sighed at his antics.
"My mom and I just had another fight. About my job of all things, which branched out to the college she didn't want to pay for and being rude by coming in late because I had to pick up a birthday present for Dad-"
"I thought your dad's birthday was tomorrow," Ben cut her off.
"It is, he just has to be somewhere for the whole day, so I thought it would be best if we had a little party tonight and not two days after,"
"Cool. Continue,"
"So now I'm up in my room, Dad's probaby beating himself up, and who knows what my mom is doing," Blair finished.
"That's a lot to take in. Can you explain how you feel about the fight?"
"So you're being my therapist now,"
"What can I say? I have to keep my game strong before I have to go do it on real people,"
"So I'm not real people," Blair said, laughing a little.
"You know what I mean: real people I don't actually know. So back to my question, how do you feel about the fight with Diana?"
"I don't know. I feel angry, that's a given. But I also feel like it could have been avoided. And I feel really bad because dad had to watch,"
"You like your dad better than you like your mom?"
"Isn't that obvious? And haven't I told you this before? For years?"
"Well yeah, but I just had to put it out there,"
"Another therapist thing,"
"I suppose,"
The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence.
"I'm supposed to get off early tomorrow, around three-ish. Would you want to meet up?" Blair said.
"Sure, where?"
"That Starbucks near my house,"
"There are far too many Starbucks near your house; you have to specify."
"The one on the corner of Shelbyville and Blankenbaker work?"
The phone fell silent for a minute, then Ben's loud voice came back on.
"Yes, that works. I'll meet you there at 3:30?"
"Yup, cool. See you then. Love you."
"See you then, love you too!"
And then they hung up the phone, leaving Blair in silence, staring up at the ceiling of her room, which was dotted with stars she and her dad had put up years ago and had never bothered to take down. Sentiment, she supposed. She glanced around the walls, where posters hung of all the places in the world she wanted to go, from the Great Wall of China to the Golden Gate Bridge.
Tomorrow would hopefully be better than today.
<§>
The next day started off like any other. Blair woke up, got dressed, and made herself look mildly presentable before walking to the kitchen and getting breakfast while trying to avoid talking to Diana. She actually said goodbye to David and wished him a happy birthday, which earned a smile from him and a scowl from Diana.
Then she was off in her car and away from the mess of a household.
The Jones household was not much less crazy than her own. When Blair was let in by an exhausted looking Mrs. Jones, Camdon was screaming, Mary was plugging her ears and screaming back, and Henry, the poor thing, sat on the floor bawling. It was chaos in every sense of the word. Mrs. Jones left quickly, but not before she said she would be back by 3:15.
Blair walked over and separated the two screaming kids, but they still continued to yell at the top of their lungs.
"MARY! CAMDON! BE QUIET!" It wasn't the first time she had yelled at the Jones kids, mostly raising her voice so the others could hear her over the storm of children wreaking havoc, but they still quieted down in awe.
"Why are you yelling?" Blair asked as soon as both of them had quieted down. Henry was still crying, but he had gotten a bit quieter. "And why is Henry crying?"
"Camdon gave me waffles," Blair closed her eyes. The Gluten Argument again. She should have known.
"And they weren't the gluten free ones were they?" Blair asked, her voice a bit weary. This had happened far too many times for this instance to be an accident.
Mary shook her head.
"And I didn't know they were until I tasted them," That was not good.
"How much did you have?" Blair said softly.
"A bite. But my stomach already doesn't feel very good," That was manageable. Not good, Blair thought, but manageable.
"Tell me if it gets any worse, okay?" Mary nodded.
Blair turned to Camdon.
"Now Camdon," Camdon paled a little, "Why did you give Mary the gluten waffles when you know that they will make her sick?"
"It was a mistake. I forgot!" Camdon chewed his lip.
"You chew your lip when you lie," Blair said. Mary laughed a little. Henry had stopped crying.
Camdon stopped chewing his lip to answer back.
"No I don't!"
"Yeah you do!" Mary remarked, laughing behind Blair.
"Why did you give Mary waffles with gluten?"
Camdon looked cornered.
"She was being annoying," Camdon said relenting. Blair raised an eyebrow.
"She was being annoying?" Camdon scowled.
"Yes,"
"Okay. Mary, have you made your bed yet?" Mary thought a moment before shaking her head "no".
"Camdon, you have to go make Mary's bed, but not before you tell me why Henry is crying,"
Both of the older siblings shrugged.
"Whenever we fight, he just does that. He doesn't like it." Camdon answered. Mary nodded in agreement.
"Is that right Henry?" Blair turned around to ask.
Henry nodded silently, not crying, but his chin was still wobbling and tear stains streaked his face.
"Have you all had breakfast?" The three kids shook their heads.
"Breakfast it is then. Come on,"
The rest of the day went relatively smooth. Breakfast was better, although there was a little skirmish over who got the last of the eggs. Mary only threw up once and Henry went down easily for his nap. After she got sick, Mary took a nap as well. By the time Mrs. Jones returned home, all was well. Henry and Mary were still sleeping and Camdon was quietly watching a Netflix TV show.
Blair informed Mrs. Jones of the situation, and thankfully she seemed more prepared and awake than she had this morning. She gave Blair the all clear to leave, and went to check on Mary.
Blair left quickly, eager to see Ben. She wondered if she could go home and change her clothes. She smelled like sick and probably didn't look so pleasant after running around and taking care of kids all day.
Thankfully, Mrs. Jones had gotten back early today, so Blair could go home and quickly change if she was okay with being a little late. She was, so she did.
When Blair got to the Shelbyville Road Starbucks, she had put on a new pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and Ben had reserved a table for them outside under the umbrellas. It was a rather cool day for July, but it was still 80 degrees. Benjamin had already ordered her favourite cold drink, a strawberry creme frappuccino, and held it out to Blair as she approached.
Blair grabbed the drink and took a quick sip before Ben started talking.
"So why did you call me, a humble servant, to this Starbucks today?"
Blair shrugged.
"No real reason. I just wanted to talk. I feel like I don't see you as often as I usually do,"
Benjamin snorted.
"I spend most of the year in college and the other parts you're working because all the little kids are out of school. We really don't see each other as often, there's no 'feel',"
Blair glared playfully at him, no heat behind it.
"Thanks for getting real specific Frat Boy,"
"I'm not even in a fraternity."
"I know," Blair said.
"So how was work?" Ben said, sipping on his drink. Even in the heat, he was drinking coffee. Ben was really something else.
"Normal. Camdon gave Mary pancakes with gluten, so she threw up once. I had to sort that out. It was actually the reason I was late; I had to change clothes,"
"That sucks," Blair hummed her agreement as she sipped her frappuccino.
"How's work for you?" Ben scowled. He worked as an intern for a therapist for credit. He didn't really like it.
"I mostly deal with a lot of parents. The other people, the ones that go alone are okay, but the parents wondering what's wrong with their kids, they can get annoying. And really pushy. I had one mom tell me to schedule her kid's appointment for earlier when it was 30 minutes away. Like, no lady. Dr. George is with another patient and can't quite kick that person out for whatever event you have. I'm sorry, but that's not how it works,"
"That sounds not fun,"
"Understatement of the year B,"
The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence where Ben finished his drink.
"So where is your dad going? I was going to give him a card or something,"
Blair shrugged.
"I don't know. Out of town somewhere for work. He might be going to a car show with his friends and just doesn't want Mom to know, which is perfectly understandable,"
"Your mom's kind of a jerk,"
"Yes. She's like the dictator of our house. She doesn't understand anything I do. I don't even think she liked you until we were in the eighth grade,"
"Well, I was a bit of a jerk until eighth grade,"
"No you weren't!"
"Do you remember that one time-"
"Probably not,"
"That I stole that one kid's book and kept it for the rest of the day. Then dropped it in the mud-"
"Never mind, I do remember that,"
"And you were mad at me for the rest of the week because you loved books and that happened to be one of your favourites,"
"I don't remember that last part," Ben looked at her in surprise.
"You don't remember that?"
"Nope," Blair said, popping the "P".
"Hm," Benjamin nodded understandingly, "I paid for that drink, you had better finish it,"
"Finishing, I promise," Blair sucked the last of the drink up the straw.
"You know, I'm thinking of going on a long car trip vacation sort of thing and the buddy I was originally going to do it with baled out on me. Would you want to come?"
"Why didn't you tell me when you first were going to do it?"
Ben's cheeks flushed, and it had nothing to do with the summer sun.
"Because there was no buddy. I just came up with the idea right now and wanted to make it seem less awkward,"
"You didn't do well on the less awkward end,"
"I know that. Would you still consider going with me?"
Blair sighed.
"I can't quit my job, not to mention Diana would be livid,"
"You call your mom Diana a lot,"
"She's not very good at being a mom,"
"Understandable and off topic,"
Blair sighed.
"I would like to go with you, but right now is just not a good time. Where would you go anyway?" Blair said.
"I don't know, South or West. Want me to take that?" Ben reached out towards Blair's empty cup, which she gratefully gave to him to throw away.
"Thanks," Blair glanced down at her watch, "I should probably be getting going,"
"Cool, any reason,"
"Let's be honest here. Diana would rather starve than make dinner. She can't cook to save her life either, which doesn't help her," Blair laughed bitterly.
Ben smiled at her, walking with her out to her car.
"Her meatloaf is poisonous enough to kill a horse. I don't doubt it,"
They got to Blair's car, an old one, but still reliable because of David. They had worked on it together when she was sixteen, fixing it up and getting it ready to drive. She adored the thing; couldn't imagine ever having to live without it.
"Think on the trip, okay?" Ben said before she got in the car.
"Will do! Bye, love you!" Blair climbed into the car and closed the door. She could see Ben wave and say "Love you, too" as she pulled out.
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