January Flash tale #2 - "Smile"

The knock at the door is a surprise.

Rather, the timing is the surprise.

Richard goes to the door, fully aware that the app on his phone says that his Dasher has picked up the order at Casa de Queso, that his late-night dinner is still four minutes away. But there’s also a glimmer of hope in his mind, the barest possibility that the app is wrong, and his California burrito will be waiting on the doorstep.

He’s just back from a business trip, ordered his dinner on the Uber-ride back from the airport. He’s been saving episodes of Servantto watch on Apple TV+. So really, dinner and a show? It’s why he’s undressed to a T-shirt and boxers. The Dasher is instructed to knock and then leave the order on the step. And isn’t the faceless, chat-less service nice, isn’t it perfect after a week of presenting and talking and non-stop being present?

Richard counts to ten in his head, and then unlocks and opens the door.

No burrito. Unless it’s disguised as a girl. Sorry, a young woman. Early twenties, a little younger than Richard. She stands under the porch light, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, her brown hair arranged in braids, a dusting of freckles on her face.

“Hi!”

Richard’s split-second view is, hey, kinda hot, but not dinner, and in my underwear. So, damn.

He puts his hands to his crotch, makes sure nothing is peeking out of his shorts, and then says the thing people say. “Can I help you?”

It’s almost 10 PM, a weird time to be selling, or begging, or being neighborly. Richard is sure he’s never seen this kind of hot, not-food, girl before in his life.

She smiles. “It’s me. Kylie.” And then, when that doesn’t seem to garner the response she was expecting, she adds, “The sitter.”

Richard has time to wonder at the word. Sitter. Sit on what?

The girl – come on, woman – holds up a dinosaur-decorated backpack, and then Richard gets the idea. A sitter for babies.

Richard blushes, although he has no reason to be embarrassed. He’s half-dressed but hardly naked. Besides, this is his home. He’s not the unexpected visitor.

More importantly, there are no babies in the house, not tonight, not ever. Richard is deliberately and determinedly child-free. No sitter required.

Although he does feel the urge to check his phone, just to reassure, just to make absolutely certain that he ordered food and not childcare. Because isn’t he tired, isn’t he just wiped out, after his long week of talking and listening and endlessly being on? And hasn’t he maybe, just maybe, seen Kylie before?

No. Seriously. He wouldn’t confuse a babysitter with a burrito.

His phone, sitting comfortably on the living room couch, makes a pinging sound, and he feels confident that the Dasher is now close by. A couple of minutes, maybe. He thinks of his burrito, the kind he’s ordered before and something he’s been looking forward to since he got back from the airport – a huge flour tortilla topped with grilled steak, Mexican street fries, loads of cheese, guac, sour cream.

His stomach gurgles.

Kylie giggles. “Someone’s hungry.”

“Yeah,” Richard replies, and he knows his next words are a few seconds late. “I didn’t order a babysitter.” He offers a shrug. “You must have the wrong place.”

Kylie shakes her head. She reaches into her pants pocket and shows Richard the screen.

His street address. Even more damning; his first and last name.

He peers at the phone, face burning with a sense of embarrassment that comes with knowing that there’s something more to this story than just a clerical mix-up.

And then he points. “There.”

“What?”

“It says, right there. Three years old.” He points at his chest. “I can’t explain why my address is on there, but you got the wrong Richard.”

Kylie pockets her phone and shakes her head. “It’s okay,” she says gently.

“Huh?”

Another ping from the couch, and now a car pulls up in front of the house. Dinner. Thank God. And now all he needs to do is get rid of the-

“Did you order your special burrito again?” Kylie nods indulgently. “Greedy boy, it’s much too big. You’ll have to share.”

Richard stares at the girl. The woman. The lady. He swallows. “How did you…” His throat is dry. “How did you know?”

Kylie reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze. “You always order the California burrito, silly, especially after a long trip.” She looks at him with brown eyes that seem to draw him in. “But you order your special sitter first. And then you hear the special words that make you forget, so you don’t get too embarrassed waiting for me.” She giggles. “So, you don’t hide under the bed when I knock on the door!”

“Spe…special words?” Richard could use a drink; he could do with a pitcher of iced water that hurts his teeth and wakes up his brain like most frigid of showers.

“Sure!” Kylie nods. “Here, honey, take the diaper bag inside.”

Richard takes the backpack dumbly, watches over Kylie’s shoulder as the Dasher walks up the path.

He clutches the straps of the backpack and looks at Kylie. Something is about to happen. Something always happens. And he is afraid. This is a process; it is the moment at the top of the roller-coaster before the train starts moving.

Buyer’s remorse. Last-minute jitters. That’s what the special words are for.

Richard watches as the Dasher arrives, the man looks at Richard, sees that his hands are full, and hands the food order to Kylie.

“Thank you!” Kylie says. She trills. She has the sweetest of voices.

Of course, she does. Kylie’s a sweet girl. She’s the best baby-sitter. That’s why Richard orders her specifically.

But there are special words. Words that stop him from feeling ashamed and anxious as the Dasher returns to his car.

Because Richard shouldn’t need a babysitter. He’s a full-grown man. He’s a respected professional in his field. He’s a-

“Hey,” Kylie says. “Sweetheart.”

Richard swallows. He looks at the woman. “I don’t think I can- “

Kylie puts a finger to her lips, and then winks at him. “Smile time.”

There’s just one of those split-seconds where Richard doesn’t know what the words mean. And then he does. And then he’s forgotten them entirely.

But he is smiling. Because it’s smile time. Because Kylie’s here, his favorite sitter, and she’s the best at games, and cuddles, and helping him feel perfectly safe and protected.

He smiles from ear to ear. Because it’s time to eat the messiest of burritos.

And because they always, always watch The Snoopy Show on Apple TV+.


THE END

A woman claiming to be a babysitter comes to his door, but he doesn't have kids. But then she says the magic words that clear it all up. - Dea