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After a dozen searches and pages, nothing but glorified articles pop up. I didn’t realize how long I had been searching for evidence that they aren’t as perfect as they appear, and get a fright when the motor of the garage door hums against the house.
A moment later, Mr. and Mrs. Smith walk in through a door on the other side of the stairwell—I assume the door adjacent to the garage bays. They look just as perfect as when they left.
“Hi, Haley. How was everything?” Lara asks, keeping her voice quiet so it doesn’t travel up the stairwell I assume. She places her emerald-green sequin clutch with golden fixtures down on the foyer table and makes her way over to me while plucking her earrings out.
“Great. The girls were well-behaved. We watched a movie and had some popcorn.” I’m going to leave the hide-and-seek unless she asks because?—
“They didn’t trick you into playing hide-and-seek, did they?”
I stand up from the uncomfortable couch and slip my phone into my back pocket. “They were just being silly girls. It was nobig deal.” It was no big deal to me, but Lara’s anger shows within the sharp arch of her brow.
“Unbelievable. We give them so few rules and they still can’t follow them. I am so sorry. I’ll pay extra for whatever trouble they caused.”
Extra? It’s part of the job. Kids will be kids. “Oh no, you don’t have to pay any extra. They were no trouble at all.”
“Everything okay?” Mr. Smith asks as he enters from a different side door that seems to be connected to their garage.
“They did just what you thought they would do,” Mrs. Smith says.
Mr. Smith scrapes his palm down the side of his face and stretches his neck to the side. “I’ll handle it.”
“They were just playing. It wasn’t a big deal,” I say, feeling like I just threw the poor girls into a world of trouble.
“I know, but we have rules,” he says, trudging up the stairwell in his patent leather shoes.
His footsteps seem to carry on for days. I stand and watch the back of Mrs. Smith’s head as she studies the path her husband just took.
“Well, I’m going to let you be. I hope I didn’t get the girls in any trouble. I enjoyed my time with them tonight.”
Mrs. Smith spins around. “You are an honest woman and I appreciate that. For that reason alone, I would like to offer you this position for the summer if you’re still interested.”
Should I be? Part of me would like to walk out of this house and forget everything I might or might not have seen tonight. The other part of me would be doing a disservice to those two beautiful little girls. And my bank account…
“I would like that,” I say, forcing a smile.
“A week from Monday is their first day of summer break. How does that sound? Nine to five?”
“That sounds grea?—”
“Lara? Do you have—” Mr. Smith calls out from upstairs, but the end of his question is lost.
“Corbin, what are you shouting about?” Lara replies. “You’re going to wake the girls. Come downstairs.”
Corbin trudges halfway down the stairwell. “Haley, where is Fallon? Did she fall asleep in the great room?”
“Fallon?” I question. “Who—is that a nickname for one of the twins?”
Corbin huffs a stalky laugh. “No, our baby. Fallon. Where is she?”
“There’s no baby,” I reply, looking between the two of them, waiting for one to start laughing about a prank they’re playing on me.
He returns down the stairs, his feet heavy with each step as he returns to his wife’s side. “Are you being serious?” he asks.
“I was here to watch your twins. I don’t—you have a baby?”
Mrs. Smith whips around toward me, her eyes bulging with panic. “Haley, where’s Fallon?”
My stomach drops as I try to piece together what they’re talking about. I clutch my hands over my chest, unable to see anything but the red veins in her eyes growing larger. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
