Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
She’s fair enough but not too fair, which shows up nicely next to my darker looks. I’m six foot two, jet-black hair that curls when it gets too long, which happens often and silver-grey eyes that can sometimes glow an-eerie silver I’ve been told.
We’ve both worked hard to keep our bodies in shape, though, at twenty-six, there isn’t much work needed. Lauren had gained a fair bit of weight when she carried the twins, but six months later, she was back to looking better than before. We were in love with each other, and it was plain for all the world to see.
After I let her talk me into interviewing this babysitter, the day finally came, and as luck would have it, Lauren got called into work at the last minute. “You see, it’s fate, we’re not supposed to do this.”
“Oh hush, it makes perfect sense to me, since I’m already sold on the girl, and you’re the one having problems, why don’t you do the interview yourself? Since you’re the one who needs convincing and all.”
There went my last hope that my wife would squelch the idea as she hastily kissed my lips before heading out the door an hour before the babysitter wannabe was due to show up at the house.
I played with my girls for the next hour or so, keeping them entertained on the living room floor and trying my best to keep them both from crawling into the huge fireplace that thankfully had a screen. That was their new favorite thing, trying to get around it to the fire that seems to fascinate them.
The doorbell rang, startling all three of us for a second as I had forgotten all about the interview. I grabbed both girls and held them under my arms, making them giggle as I called out to whoever was at the door that I was coming.
I had a hell of a time trying to open it and ended up having to put both girls down on the floor to get the job done while caging them in with my feet as they tried to make a run for it back to the fireplace.
I opened it expecting to see the homely bookish denizen of the babysitting world and instead was faced with what has got to be one of the most beautiful creatures on this green earth. I’m married, not dead, and though I have no interest in cheating on my wife, I can still appreciate a thing of beauty when I see it. Still, I had to be sure that this was the girl my wife had told me about.
“Hello, can I help you.”
“Um, yes, this is the Masters home, isn’t it? I have an interview…”
“Oh yes, sure, come on in.” Yikes, I think I found a sure-fire way to get my wife to change her mind.
Lauren is one of the most confident women I know, except in one department when it comes to other females anywhere near me. Not because of anything I’ve done to give her the idea that I would ever cheat on her mind you, it’s just an innate thing. She’s been that way since college.
Once again, I scooped the girls up and headed back towards the living room. “Follow me…uh…I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“It’s Jenny…sir.” Something about the name sounded familiar, but I know for a fact that I’d never seen her before, I would’ve remembered.
As an artist, I’m trained to recognize unique things, and I have to say the young lady’s beauty was that. She has wide expressive blue eyes that looked like pools of the deepest ocean water with pinpoint black irises.
Light blonde hair that fell in fat ringlets, down the middle of her back, and the cutest cupid bow lips that although obviously unenhanced were the color of crushed raspberries.
I took in all this not as a lascivious married man ogling the babysitter, but as a dad who was trying desperately to find reasons not to hire this person so that I wouldn’t have to leave my innocent babies with a complete stranger.
I was almost giddy at the prospect of sharing all of this with my wife, knowing that there’s no way she’d agree to have this person in our home. In fact, she just might have a go at me for even letting the girl in the door.
I sat the girls in their playpen and showed her to the couch while I took a seat in one of the side chairs. “So, Jenny, do you have a resume?” What teenage babysitter does? These things were usually just word of mouth, but you could’ve blown me over with a feather when she reached into the bag she held on her lap and retrieved the manila envelope. Very professional indeed!
“Yes sir, it’s all in there, with phone numbers, references and everything.