Melodie’s Sundays were predictable. Wake up with Daddy. Eat with Daddy. Play with Daddy. Rinse and repeat.
A perfect system.
But she’s a big girl. She knows that, sometimes, Daddy has work–grown ups are very busy. On those days, she has to be a good hostess to BriBri. BriBri comes over, they play, they eat, rinse and repeat.
Melodie loved Sundays.
“Melodie! Hunter’s here!”
Her lanky arms halt in tying up her hair. If Daddy was going to work today, where was BriBri? Hunter coming didn’t add up. Still, Melodie knew that good hostesses always greet their guests. So, she left her hair as is and went to the front door. Hunter, Daddy’s strong-looking friend, stepped inside. His eyes lingered on Daddy, using a stare she usually saw in Christmas romance movies before he gingerly took off his coat. That’s when he noticed the child across the room.
“Hey Melodie, we’re going to spend the day together! Does that sound fun?”
No BriBri?
No Daddy?
Melodie’s smile fell. Before Hunter could ask what was wrong, she’d run back into her room.
Hunter’s heart dropped to his feet. That was the first time Melodie hadn’t hugged him since they first met. He looked at River, anxious, but only found an unfazed father.
“She’s probably just embarrassed that her hair isn’t done. She’s pretty sensitive about it,” he explained. River wasted no time in doing up his jacket and slipping on heavy duty snow boots. “Just give her a few minutes to get ready and she should be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
One kiss and “goodbye” later, Hunter stood in the living room alone. Waiting for Melodie. The thing that always struck him about being around children was how mature they felt. The concept of a child he gathered from TV never matched the thoughtful, opinionated people that children turned out to be. If Melodie was an adult, he would have been unbothered by the wait.
But, Melodie wasn’t an adult. She was six years old and he hadn’t heard a sound from her room in almost five minutes. As the seconds ticked by, Hunter’s mind came up with a million terrible things that could have happened to that little girl. He checked his phone. 6 minutes. He’d waited long enough.
“Hey Melodie, are you okay in there?”
Hunter stood just outside of her room, knocking first in his last attempt to preserve the child’s privacy. A beat passed and Hunter wondered how hard he had to kick to crack open her door.
“Leave me alone!”
Hunter was relieved to hear her voice. But only marginally. She was okay, which was the most important thing. But she also seemed to want nothing to do with him and it was barely 10:30 am.
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to draw?”
Two responses seemed to be her limit. Drawing, games, Sofia the first, nothing could elicit another response from the child. With a grunt, Hunter sat across from the door, staring at Melodie’s bedroom door. How had things gone sour so quickly? Why was he, the same person who’d always made her smile, suddenly not enough?
Hunter couldn’t just leave her alone. He was the one watching her. Her safety was completely in his hands. But she refused to see him.
Hunter checked his phone again. 10:58. Fuck. Was it possible to mess up babysitting this quickly?
Hunter’s butt was getting sore and an elbow he’d bumped on his way down to the floor throbbed. In his discomfort and worry, Hunter wondered if River’s ex-wife would have struggled this much.
The thought appeared out of nowhere and his entire body froze at the thought. Yet funnily enough, Hunter already knew the answer.
No.
River’s ex-wife is Melodie’s mother. She would have raised her for all 6 years of Melodie’s life and known exactly what to do. But she’s not here. That’s why Hunter needs to be.
Hunter stood up and knocked on her door one more time.
“Melodie?”
Silence.
“Look, I don’t know what I did to upset you so whatever it is, I’m sorry,” he said.
The words seemed to bounce off the door and back to him. He hoped Melodie was listening.
“But your Daddy brought me here to make sure you’re okay while he’s gone. So, if you want to hate me, can you please hate me from the living room?”
That was a terrible speech. And an even worse way to appeal to a child. A normal person would have suggested cookies or ice cream but Hunter just had to be unique. Then, miraculously, he heard a click. Melodie Conyers pulled her bedroom door open and walked right out. The first thing Hunter noticed were the wet trails the tears left behind on her face. The second thing was her hair. Small, light brown curls pulled back into a loose ponytail. She really did want to fix her hair.
In the living room, things weren’t back to normal. Her first act was putting on Frozen. Hunter was happy to see her get back to her usual self. But as the movie went on, it became glaringly obvious that she wasn’t okay.
Frozen (a classic among Gen Z and Alpha alike) was watched without comments, without gasps, and without singing. Melodie watched the film in silence, brown eyes unfocused and dull. After a while, Hunter pulled out his laptop. He didn’t care if they were work emails or not. He just wanted a distraction from the silent child seated on the opposite end of the couch.
Three weeks ago, keeping her mouth shut was impossible. Now, not a word left her.
After the movie, she returned to her favorite activity and started to draw. Unlike before, Hunter didn’t have a 2014 Disney movie to fill the silence. It was the quietest part of the entire day.
At least until she appeared beside Hunter 10 minutes later. Her body was totally still and her expression purposefully blank. Had she had enough of the silence? Would she ask him to leave?
“Can I have a snack?”
“A snack?” He echoed only to receive a judgemental look from the child. She was especially irritated by stupidity. That hadn’t changed. “Uh, yeah. Are apple slices okay?”
“With the no nut butter.”
“And no nut butter. Got it.”
Satisfied, Melodie nodded and returned to her spot on the floor.
Hunter knew not to squander this opportunity. Two apples were washed meticulously. Their skin was peeled and cores removed in a way that preserved as much apple as possible. After arranging these slices in a crescent shape around the plate. He scooped some of their no nut butter onto the right side. His plating could have been accepted by Gordon Ramsey himself. But a much harsher critic–a child–stood between him and victory. Would she accept it?
Quietly, Melodie analyzed the apples placed by her side. Hunter held his breath as her large brown eyes skimmed the plate. He was already on such thin ice. One more mistake could leave everything shattered beneath his feet. Then, when Hunter already planned how to tell River the bad news, Melodie smiled.
“The apples look like a moon.” she told him, giggling softly to herself.
“I thought an artist like yourself would appreciate the shape.”
Melodie giggled even louder and even looked Hunter in the eye.
After that, Melodie returned to her drawing. But she put on Encanto and sang along when she could. It was an improvement. Not normal, but better.
Hours went by that same way, broken up by her requests for lunch and dinner.
River opened the door noisily at 10:00pm and this time both Hunter and Melodie had stayed awake to welcome him home. Melodie greeted him first, running towards her father so fast, her skull collided with his bellybutton. Hunter felt a strange twinge of jealousy. As quickly as he’d gained it, Hunter had lost her trust.
The family of two talked about River’s work and Melodie’s day and Hunter tried to zone out of their conversation. Still, he couldn’t help but hear when River asked,
“Did you have a good time?”
And Melodie’s response was a short shake of her head.
That was it. Hunter’s short career as a babysitter ended as soon as it began. Hair finished or not, she’d had a terrible time and now her father knew it. River’s eyes flitted up to catch Hunter’s and the taller man felt the sting of embarrassment. There goes his chance to act like he wasn’t listening.
“I guess you don’t want me to come back then.”
Hunter’s joke was a little unsteady and entirely pathetic. Melodie looked over her shoulder, meeting Hunter’s eyes with the same intensity as her father.
“No, you should come back,” she replied. “Next time, we have to play airplane and I still haven’t drawn you.”
Melodie gave her dad another tight squeeze before returning to her bedroom. Hunter’s Sunday was a whirlwind of emotions. But that, hands down, had to be the best part.
River smiled tiredly at Hunter who was trying to stifle his scream.
“What the actual fuck,” the younger man groaned.
River had no idea what happened over the past 12 hours. What he did know was those few words from his daughter had Hunter pulling out the already short strands of hair from his head.
“Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
Hunter was a bit new here. But that was pretty effective River-talk for, “let’s talk about this where Melodie can’t hear us.”
Hunter was the one who shut the door, spinning to look River in the eye when he announced, “I don’t think I’m a good babysitter. She was quiet the whole day and didn’t even sing along to Frozen!”
River barked out a laugh but Hunter was too stressed to laugh along.
“I’m being serious,” Hunter whined; a sound more childish than any complaint Melodie made in the past 12 hours. “Today was terrible! I’m just surprised she even wants me back.”
“She’s a kid, Hunter. She’s not going to be in an amazing mood every single day. Sometimes she’s moody and grumpy and annoying as hell to deal with. It’s not your job to make her happy. You just have to be there.”
The past 12 hours flew through Hunter’s mind. At every moment, he’d assumed the absolute worst. That he’d hurt her. That he’d lost her trust. But if he removed himself from the equation, then Melodie was just sad. And that was okay. They were okay. Hunter was okay.
River stepped up closer to Hunter and drew him into a hug. It wasn’t sexual or heated in any way. Just nice. River dropped his chin on Hunter’s chest and gave him a wry smile.
“That’s why I’m sure you did a fantastic job,” he finished warmly.
“Thank you.”
“No thank you. I can’t imagine who I would’ve called if you hadn’t agreed to watch her for this long,” he winced. Hunter laughed at his expression because yes, it had been a long day.
“So about payment-“
“No, no, we’re friends,” Hunter sighed, tightening his arms around River’s shorter frame. “And, I really don’t need it.”
Melodie heard the sound of laughter filter through her bedroom door. She smiled as she fell asleep.
———————————
Writing this was a PUSH. Maybe it’s because Melodie’s such an angel to me.
Anywhy,
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