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Slumping back to the bed, I collapsed on top of the mattress and stared at the ceiling.
Babysitting. Ugh.
Lonely, bored, and irritable, I rolled onto my stomach and pulled my laptop closer, logging in to my email to see if maybe Adam had already visited Bridget and she had maybe contacted me with the outcome. When I saw I actually had something from Facebook, I brightened. Until I glanced to the right and read the subject line.
Todd Stangman sent you a message on Facebook.
Groaning, I clicked and read.
Hey, we’re going sledding tomorrow. Want to come?
Suddenly, I wasn’t so upset about having to babysit after all. I wrote him back with my handy-dandy excuse and sent my regrets.
* * * *
Turned out, Cody Gruber was only a first grader. And he still took naps.
For the first half of the morning, the little maniac ran me breathless. The kid went full-speed nonstop. And he demanded I play with him. No camping out on the couch with my feet up watching soap operas all day while he quietly played with Tonka trucks on the floor. No. We had to play pretend. And more often than not, I got to be the tortured victim.
By lunch, I was ready for a nap. But Cody kept going. His mother told me he usually slept in the afternoon, and right on schedule, four o’clock came around and he dropped like a stone. I tried to carry him from the couch where he collapsed to his bedroom, but first graders are not as light as one would think.
Panting as I left his room and softly closed the door, I wiped an exhausted hand across my brow, thinking it was Grace naptime too.
But the doorbell rang.
I was startled to find Todd, of all people, standing on the front steps with a huge smile.
My mouth fell open. “What…how…”
His grin grew. “Hey, this is Osage. Everyone knows where everyone else lives.”
“Right,” I grumbled.
Todd tried to come inside.
“Whoa.” I dodged into his path. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m coming in. It’s freaking cold out here.”
“But—”
He came inside.
I ground my teeth and closed the door after him. “I really don’t think Mrs. Gruber would like me having friends over while I’m working.”
He ignored my concerned frown, glancing around the living room. “Where is the little monster, anyway?”
I vaguely waved my hand toward the opening of the hall that led to Cody’s room. “He’s sleeping, but—”
“Really?” Todd wiggled his eyebrows. “And when does Mrs. Gruber get home?”
My gut churned with anger, irritation, and fear. “Any minute now,” I said, though I really didn’t know. Barry sometimes came home before I even made it out of school. Other nights, he worked until after six.
“I don’t think you should be here,” I said just as the phone rang.
I held up a hand, silently telling him to stay before I spun around to race to the back of the house, where I’d spotted the phone earlier in the kitchen. I answered and promptly hung up as a telemarketer began rattling off something; I didn’t wait to hear what she was selling.
I whirled around and let out a yelp, jarring to a halt before I could plow into Todd’s chest.
