Mason looked relieved.
“Mom said you blamed us.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Get inside!” Vanessa shouted from her porch.
The boys stepped away from the fence.
“Don’t talk to my children, Claire!”
“Then stop telling them I hate them.”
“They know what you did.”
“I put a lock on my own gate.”
“You’ve changed.”
“No, Vanessa. I just don’t agree with you.”
She took the boys inside and closed the door.
I thought the new lock would be enough.
Two days later, I came home from work and found it lying in the middle of my porch.
There was a folded note beneath it.
Stop being ridiculous.
I opened the camera app.
At 2:06 p.m., Vanessa walked down the side passage carrying a power drill.
She unscrewed the latch, removed the lock, and placed it on my porch.
Before leaving, she looked directly at the camera and smiled.
I saved that recording too.
Then I photographed the damaged gate and called someone for a repair estimate.
While I waited, I checked my messages.
Vanessa had sent me one earlier that day.
We leave Thursday. The boys’ schedule is on the fridge. Benji’s medicine is at noon. Mason has practice at four. Theo’s friend will be dropped off Friday. The dog food is in the pantry. Put any packages in your hallway.
She hadn’t asked whether I could watch the boys.
She hadn’t even said please.
She had simply assumed I would take care of them, the dog, the house, and anything else that came up while she was away.
I didn’t reply.
That evening, there was a neighborhood cookout.
I considered staying home, but I didn’t want Vanessa’s behavior to keep me away from everyone else.
I was setting a bowl on the table when I heard her speaking on the other side of the hedge.
“Claire likes feeling useful,” Vanessa said.
Another neighbor asked, “Doesn’t she already work a lot?”
“She needs people depending on her. Especially since Daniel passed.”
My hands tightened around the bowl.
Vanessa laughed.
“I’m probably giving her a reason to get out of bed.”
A woman named Ruth answered.
“That’s a cruel thing to say.”
“It’s true. She enjoys taking care of the boys.”
I walked around the hedge.
“Do you think I’m your unpaid babysitter?”
Vanessa nearly dropped her drink.
“Claire. I didn’t see you there.”
“I heard everything.”
“We were joking.”
“About Daniel?”
“You’re twisting what I said.”
“You said my husband’s death made me need your family.”
Her face reddened.
“You’ve always helped us.”
“I thought you appreciated it.”
“I do.”
“You also expect it.”
The people around us became quiet.
Vanessa looked around.
“Can we not do this here?”
“You were already discussing me here.”
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“Then explain what you meant.”
She didn’t answer.
I thought about every time I had changed my schedule for her. Every school pickup, emergency ride, dog feeding, and last-minute request.
I had done those things because I cared about her children and thought Vanessa was my friend.
She had apparently seen the arrangement very differently.
“You started treating my help like something I owed you,” I said.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I don’t think I am.”
I picked up my bowl and went home.
That night, I wrote down everything Vanessa expected me to do during her trip.
Pick up the boys.
Watch them overnight.
Give Benji his medicine.
Drive Mason to practice.
Feed the dog.
Collect packages.
Check the house.
Prepare meals.
Supervise Theo’s friend.
Then I gathered every key Vanessa had given me over the years.
Her front door key, back door key, and garage key all went into a cardboard box.
I added the bill for sanitizing the pool and the estimate for repairing the gate.
Then I printed several photographs from the recordings.
One showed Vanessa entering my yard with the boys.
Another showed her sitting beside the pool.
The last showed her holding the drill near my gate.
I also printed the message she had sent about her trip.
On top, I placed a short note.
I will not be watching the boys or taking care of your house while you are away. These are your keys. The attached bills are for the pool cleaning and gate repair.
The following morning, I carried the box next door.
Vanessa opened the door wearing running shoes and holding her car keys.
Three suitcases were waiting behind her. Mason and Theo wore backpacks, and Benji held his stuffed bear.
“My ride will be here in forty minutes,” she said. “Can this wait?”
“No.”
I handed her the box.
She opened it.
First, she saw the keys.
Then she saw the bills and printed messages.
When she reached the photographs, the color left her face.
She lowered the lid.
“What are you doing?”
“Returning your keys.”
She pulled out the boys’ schedule.
“Why is this in here? You need it for the weekend.”
“I’m not watching them.”
Vanessa stared at me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I never agreed to watch your children.”
“You knew I was leaving.”
“I knew you had a trip. You never asked me to babysit.”
“I sent you the schedule.”
“You sent instructions. That isn’t the same as asking.”
She looked toward the road.
“I have meetings.”
“Then you need to find someone else.”
“My ride is almost here.”
“You still have forty minutes.”
Her voice became sharper.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I’m telling you that I won’t be responsible for three children for an entire weekend when I never agreed to it.”
She looked back at the boys.
“So you’re punishing them.”
“They’re home with their mother. They’re not being abandoned.”
Mason looked down. Benji held his bear closer.
I turned toward them.
“This isn’t your fault.”
Vanessa pulled the pool invoice from the box.
“You actually expect me to pay this?”
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