Don’t Forget Juliette

It’s a chance to finally prove to her parents she’s more than her mistakes.

Sneak Peak

We step into the front entryway and huddle on the square rug, uncertain whether to take off our shoes and go further or wait there. Mrs. Macey comes around the corner, pulling Ren by the arm, a harried smile on her face. I can smell dinner cooking, maybe spaghetti, or tacos. Mrs. Macey drags Ren along, the child dangling with all her weight at the end of her mom’s arm.

“Hello,” Mrs. Macy says, attempting a singsongy voice, but it sounds forced.
“We don’t want to intrude on dinner,” my dad says. “We just dropped by to introduce Juliette. Officially. She is looking forward to babysitting Ren.”

“I’m not a baby,” Ren says from where she’s circled her mother's legs.

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” my dad says.

I roll my eyes. I knew this was going to be a disaster.

“Ren, a babysitter is someone who watches kids when the parents have to go out. It doesn’t mean you're a baby,” Mr. Macey says, then smiles at us. “Do you all want to come in?”

My parents decline, likely sensing the chaotic bubble we walked into, and the importance of not popping it. “We won’t take up your time. Juliette just wanted to meet Ren,” my dad says, obviously forgetting that I have already met her. Or at least, kind of.

All five pairs of eyes turn towards me and bore into my face like lasers. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say.

“Um,” I stammer. “Nice to meet you.”

Mrs. Macey smiles, then looks down at Ren. “Ren, this is Juliette. She is going to play with you this summer. Isn’t that exciting?”

Ren looks at everyone else, dashes through the room, and somehow slides her tiny body under the couch. I have no idea how she fits.

“She is very excited,” Mrs. Macy says, folding her hands together.

Silence fills the circle for a moment until my mom says, “Well, great! Just let us know if anything changes. Otherwise, Juliette will be here right at 9:00 am next Monday.”

“Thank you so much,” Mrs. Macey says. I notice a coffee stain on her shirt, and there’s a macaroni noodle in her hair. “This is so nice of you.” She shakes my hand with both of hers, and for a moment, I think she has forgotten to let go.

“No problem,” I say, even though I have the feeling it’s going to be a very big problem. Ren doesn’t seem too excited to have a babysitter, and the Maceys, in general, look like they’ve been dragged through a tornado. I’m completely unsure about this whole arrangement. But if I argue or object, they’ll give me something worse to do. And Mr. and Mrs. Macy look so hopeful, so excited. They seem nice. How bad could it be?

“Okay then, bye,” Mr. Macey says awkwardly. They both have a dazed look in their eyes, and I’m pretty sure neither of them has slept in months.

“Wait!” Ren shrieks, and we all freeze, stunned by the high pitch of her scream. We hear thundering steps as Ren tears through the house and then bounces back, holding my spinner with a look of triumph on her face.

“Oh! You remembered,” I say, surprised and impressed. “Thank you!”

Mr. and Mrs. Macy gaze down at Ren as if she had just uncovered a precious jewel buried in the desert. “I can’t believe you remembered that was Juliette’s,” Mrs. Macey says.

“And that you knew where to find it,” Mr. Macey says.

“I’m so sorry, Juliette. I forgot to return that to you. Honestly, I haven’t even seen it until now.” Mrs. Macy looks embarrassed.

“No worries,” I say. “Thank you for taking such good care of it, Ren.”

Ren smiles a quirky grin, her halo of curly brown hair sticking up all over her head, then she dashes off again.

 We wave goodbye one more time and stroll the few steps back home. Nobody says anything. We are all slightly stunned by the whole interaction.

“Think of it as having a little sister,” my mom says once inside the house. And amazingly, her words are exactly what I need to hear.

A little sister, I think to myself. Now that sounds pretty great.