“Are these your moms?” she asks, pointing a light green-tipped nail at the baked goods. I nod, then watch with reluctant fascination as she plucks one out of the pan without asking, puts it on a plate, and licks the brown sugar and cinnamon goo off her fingers. “So I found out about all the million and seven things she promised to do and either redistributed them or took them on myself, including hanging with my best girl this week.”
“Yes!” Emma says excitedly, clearly looking forward to time with Hallie, who she thinks is possibly the coolest person on earth.
I am considerably less impressed.
“And no one thought to tell me that the plans had changed and my child would be being watched by someone other than my sister?”
Hallie looks at me like I’m being dramatic as she grabs her plate and sits next to Emma, slowly peeling the first layer of the sweet bread roll off, then gesturing to me with it.
“After the bullshit you and Madd have been putting her through? No. I wasn’t going to give you any room to argue and make her feel guilty. Your mom agreed. And don’t put this on Wren. She didn’t even know they were going until last night, so it’s not likeshewas lying to you.” She’s right, of course: my younger brother Madden and I have been giving her more than her fair share of responsibilities as of late, but I can’t seem to focus on that. Not when Hallie slides the pastry between her lips, something I’ve caught myself doing more times than I should admit over the past few years.
Hallie Young is temptation in the most basic, primal sense, and over the past four years or so, I’ve begun to think it’s a brand of temptation calibrated to torture me specifically.
“My mom knew? And she didn’t tell me?”
Hallie gives me an exaggerated eye roll as she chews. “Jeeze, Jess, it’s not like I’m a stranger. I’ve babysat her more times than either of us can count.”
With Wren, I want to remind her, but Emma pipes in before I can speak.
“Yeah, Dad, chill.”
I snap my head to my daughter, who is giving me her most signature sassy look that now I’m noticing looks a bit like Hallie’s.
“I’m not sure how I feel about you and Emma spending large chunks of time together. You’re a bad influence.”
“Sorry, I’m not a precious second-grade teacher you can take advantage of,” Hallie counters with a raised brow.
“I don’t—” I start to say, but with Hallie’s look, my words sputter out. The truth is, Ihavetaken advantage of my baby sister’s kindness for some time now, even though I didn’t mean to. I sigh, a mix of bone-deep exhaustion and resignation in the sound.
Running a hand through my hair, I glance around my small house, which is currently a disaster. When I found out Emma was coming into the world, I dropped everything to become the parent she needed, and my parents, always the parentsIneeded, began building the small house on the family property for Emma, me, and Emma’s mom to live in before she decided full-time parenting wasn’t for her.
They also built one for Madden, though it sits relatively empty. He lived there for just over a year after graduating from college before deciding he did not want to live that close to all of us and moved to the center of town. Usually, I keep the small space relatively tidy, but since yesterday was Christmas and I didn’t expect anyone other than my sister over, it currently looks like a tornado tore it apart, and I haven’t had time to clean it up. Even more, with the tight schedule I have over the next week, I won’t have time for it.
“I have shit to do today,” I tell Hallie.
Normally, right after the holidays, I start organizing the decorations and taking them down, so setting up next year is easy. Although my family’s Christmas tree farm isn’t too busy in the winter, I have a lot to get done before the snow hits again, making it near impossible to take things down until it melts.
“That’s why I’m here,” Hallie says, and then I watch with intrigue as her face goes soft just a bit, an unspoken apology in her tone. “I promise, I’m here to help. I can handle one preteen girl for a week. I was one, after all.”
Her face is sincere, and despite my reservations, I know she’s right.
“Yeah, Dad, we’ll be fine! God, I’m not ababy,” Emma says with sass in the words.
Hallie snaps her head toward my daughter and raises an eyebrow. “Emma, check it,” she says under her breath, and to my utter shock, my daughter nods.
“Sorry, I just meant it’s no big deal for him to leave me with you.”
Hallie nods, and I watch the exchange in disbelief. Emma’s growing attitude has been an ongoing issue, and I’ve found combating it to be like walking a tightrope: pushing too hard or being too frank with her about it can make it worse, but not pushing enough, and she thinks it’s a game. Somehow, it seems Hallie found that balance on the first try.
“I know, but we still need to be respectful. It’s normal that your dad would be worried about who will watch you. You don’t need to give him a hard time for wanting to make sure you’re safe.”
You could push me over with a feather when Emma nods instead of giving that same attitude to me.
“You’re right.” Then she turns her face to me. “Sorry, Dad.”
I blink a few times, trying to see if this is some kind of dream, but nod all the same, not wanting to ruin the exchange.
“You’re done?” Hallie asks, tipping her chin toward Emma’s empty plate, and my daughter nods. “Good. Get ready for the day. Get dressed, brush your hair, brush your teeth, whatever you would do on a normal school day.”
