Something Old - Dianne L. Christner [23]
Tyler jerked open the refrigerator door and stared into it. Addison pushed him and jerked open a bin.
“Stop it.”
Their bodies tugged for position, and Addison came out of the scuffle with string cheese, but her brother latched on to it, too. “Let go,” she demanded.
Katy walked over, taking each child by a shoulder. “Move aside, and let me see if there’s more.”
“This was the last one,” Addison said, jerking it out of her brother’s grip and quickly peeling back the plastic.
Katy glanced at the counter. “How about some fruit, Tyler?”
He gave his sister a glare but moved toward the fruit bowl and took a banana. When he peeled it back, he stuck it under Addison’s nose. She squealed. “Stop. Make him stop.”
Katy placed her hand on Tyler’s shoulder and said sternly, “You sit in that chair.” When he hesitated, she sharpened her voice. “Now.” The child sulked into the chair. “Addison you sit in that one.” Addison bounced into the chair, giving her brother a victorious look. “Now listen up. When I’m watching you, I expect you to respect each other. I have two brothers and a sister at home. Don’t think I don’t know how to make little children behave.” She narrowed her eyes. “Because I do. Do you understand?”
They both gave nods. Tyler’s eyes, however, darkened rebelliously. Katy moved to the counter and looked for her instructions. Sure enough, she was to take Tyler to his friend’s house and then take Addison to dance class at an Upper Arlington address. She was supposed to walk her inside, watch practice, and afterward relay the instructor’s parental information to Tammy.
“I’m done with my snack. Can I go play?” Addison asked.
“Yes. We have a half hour before I take you to your lessons. Tyler you’ll be going to your friends'—”
He punched his fist in the air. “Awesome!”
“You may go to your rooms and change clothes, and I’ll call you when it’s time,” she called after Tyler who was already halfway up the stairs. “Tyler, stop! Come back here and take that banana peel to the trash. It’s only polite to clean up after yourself.” It was no wonder the house always looked like a tornado had hit it.
He turned and marched back, like a bull eyeing a matador and snatched up the peel with a scowl. “I’ll do it, but you’re the maid. There.” He plunked it in the trash. “Satisfied?”
“I’ll be satisfied when you can do that with a smile on your face.”
“Fat chance of that.” He glanced at her covering. “Pilgrim lady.”
Katy’s jaw dropped, and she found herself speechless. Meanwhile, Tyler took the steps two at a time and disappeared.
So much for the misconception that the Brooks’ children were polite. Though it was probably useless and would probably go unnoticed, Katy went through the house, picking up things that were out of place: Barbie dolls, video games, princess socks, and wineglasses.
She had threatened the children by telling them she knew how to handle her brothers and sister, but the truth was, she’d never had to deal with an adolescent boy’s smart mouth. The woodshed prevented that sort of rebellion at her house. She would need to speak to Tammy about the appropriate methods of discipline.
Her more immediate challenge, however, would be taking Addison to dance lessons because dancing was forbidden in the Conservative Mennonite Church she attended. In her imagination, the word dancing conjured up smoky dens of drink and lust. She’d never given this type of dancing a thought. If she took Addison, as her employer expected, would she be enabling an innocent child to do something sinful?
On the other hand, Addison would continue her