The Babysitter. Nancy Bush

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      Chapter One

      Then . . .

      Jamie stuck her head under the coffee table, with its deep sides that made it damn near impossible to reach the tossed cards from the Memory Game she’d been playing with Serena and Teddy, the Ryerson twins. They were in bed for good now, God willing. The seven-year-olds had had their last drink of water, their last story, their last everything. Jamie was honestly sick of them. She’d been babysitting them for eons and she was supposed to be at the Stillwell party tonight. She’d been invited by Cooper Haynes himself. Coolest guy in school. He’d smiled at her this afternoon and asked if she was going to be there. And she was only a sophomore and wouldn’t be able to drive until the summer, but he’d specifically asked her even though he was in her sister Emma’s class.

      Emma was supposed to babysit the twins tonight. Jamie had begged and begged her older sister to take over for her. She’d promised her anything. Emma had wanted to know what the big deal was. To her, the party at the Stillwells’ was just another senior get-together for her class, of which she’d been to kazillions.

      But Cooper Haynes had invited her, Jamie Whelan, specifically!

      “Please, please, please,” she’d begged Emma, dramatically prostrating herself on her sister’s bedroom carpet.

      “Jesus, what’s the big deal? There’ll be another one,” Emma said.

      Jamie would rather cut out her tongue than admit that Cooper had asked her to go. Emma would laugh or make fun of her. Emma and Cooper were friends, had once even gone together for a short time when they were in junior high. If Emma knew of Jamie’s secret, secret crush, it would be all over the school.

      “I want to go to this one,” Jamie said, rising into a squat, her hands in front of her in prayer. “Just, please, Emma. Take over for me.”

      “Mom won’t let you go to a senior party anyway.”

      “She doesn’t have to know. And I’ll get there somehow.”

      “Oh, you will?” A smile played on Emma’s lips. She was the rebel and Jamie was the good girl, as far as their mother knew. And it was true, up to a point. Jamie worked on her grades and stayed in and babysat for extra cash because the Whelan family was damn near dirt-poor since Dad had his midlife crisis and took up with that bitch with the fake boobs and big hair and houseboat on the Columbia River. Jamie and Emma had visited him exactly once and it had been an epic fail.

      “What do you need from me to make this happen, Emma?” Jamie asked, rising to her feet and shifting into business mode.

      “Fifty dollars.”

      “What?”

      “I’ve got some things to buy.” She lifted a shoulder and started to walk away.

      Jamie swore a blue streak in her mind, then said quickly, “Twenty. It’s all I’ve got.”

      “You’ve got scads in your savings account.”

      “I’m saving for college. I’ve got thirty. Please, Emma.”

      “I’ve got things to do and wouldn’t be there till nine at the earliest, so . . .”

      “I’ll babysit them till nine, and you can take over.”

      “I don’t know . . .” She made a face.

      “Fine. I’ll get you fifty!”

      “This must be really important,” Emma said, turning back to give Jamie a long look.

      “I can’t be the total nerd any longer,” Jamie said, the truth popping out. Emma’s popularity was legendary and Jamie, who’d finally gotten her braces off—which had taken for-effing-ever, thank you, God—had grown her hair out from the short bob Mom had given her since she was three, and was working on matching a little bit of that popularity. “Take my place at nine and I’ll give you the fifty and all the money from tonight’s babysitting, too.”

      “Seriously?”

      “Seriously.”

      It had taken Emma a few more agonizing moments to consider, but then she’d finally agreed. “But if I get killed, it’s on you,” she said.

      “Yeah, yeah.”

      She was referring to the two babysitters who’d been attacked that summer, one in Vancouver, apparently the victim of a masked robber who’d stabbed her during his getaway, and the other falling from a rooftop deck in Gresham, where she’d supposedly been trying to meet her boyfriend. Neither of those places was close to their River Glen neighborhood, a suburb of Portland’s westside.

      Now it was eight forty-six. Jamie had checked the Ryersons’ mantel clock before ducking under the table. About fifteen minutes to go. She had a brush in her purse to fix her hair and some lipstick and mascara. The Stillwell house, really an estate, was only about twenty blocks north of the Ryersons’, down a long, hedged driveway so the neighbors, noise, and cops wouldn’t be aware of the party, fingers crossed.

      As Jamie started to slide out from under the table, a shadowy figure standing to one side caused her to shriek and smack her head on the table’s underside.

      “Shii—ouch!” She just managed to stop herself from swearing a blue streak when she saw it was Serena standing there in a pale nightgown. “Serena. What are you doing up?”

      Jamie shimmied out from under the table and stood up, rubbing her head. Irked, she frowned down at the little girl.

      “I had a dream that I was dying.”

      “Oh, honey.” Jamie’s annoyance dissipated, and she gently put her hands on the girl’s shoulders, turned her around, and slowly marched her back to bed. “You’re fine. Your mom and dad are going to be back soon. Just try to sleep.”

      “Is your friend coming?” Her voice wavered.

      Jamie had told the twins that Emma might spell her and not to be scared if they woke up to find her there instead of Jamie. “My sister. You’ve had her babysit you before.”

      “I want Mommy,” she sobbed, clinging to Jamie’s leg.

      “Don’t be a baby.” Teddy’s voice rang from down the hallway to his sister’s room, which made Serena cry even harder.

      It took Jamie till after nine to calm Serena down and get Teddy, who hadn’t wanted to give up chastising Serena, back to bed. Their mother had assured Jamie that the twins would sleep soundly because they’d been to the Oaks Park amusement center for the day and ridden on all the rides. Nadine Ryerson had said, “Don’t worry, they’ll sleep like the dead.”

      Ha.

      Jamie half-expected one or the other or both of the twins to get up again, but they seemed to have finally settled down for good. But then, where was СКАЧАТЬ