“Hi!” he said cheerfully, offering his hand. “You must be Mr.
Daniels.
I’m Chris, the babysitter.”
I could hear the gears in Jake’s brain grind to a halt.
He blinked, trying to process what was standing in front of him.
“Uh, hi?” Jake looked at me, then back at Chris. “Wait. You’re the babysitter?”
Chris nodded without missing a beat.
“Yep.
CPR certified, bachelor’s in child development, and I used to coach Little League. I’m really looking forward to working with your wife and kids.”
Jake opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He glanced back at me again, his expression somewhere between lost and panicked.
“I thought…
uh, I thought you said…”
I tilted my head and smiled. “Oh, honey, remember?
You said you hoped for a hot babysitter.
So I found one. I didn’t realize you meant a woman.”
Chris, bless his sweet soul, just grinned. “Ah, thank you!
I do get that a lot.”
Jake’s face went from pink to red in five seconds flat.
His mouth twitched, but he couldn’t find anything to say that didn’t sound completely stupid.
“Well… uh, I’m sure you’re great, man,” he stammered, “but I don’t think we really need…”
“Oh, but we do!” I interrupted, cheerful as ever.
“You said it yourself. We need help.
And he’s exactly what we need.
You don’t mind, do you?”
Jake was stuck. I watched him try to claw his way out of the corner he’d put himself in, but there was no exit.
“No, no… of course not,” he mumbled, shoulders stiff.
“That’s wonderful!” I said, clapping my hands lightly.
“Chris, can you start tomorrow?
The kids nap around one, and I’d love to have some time to rest.”
“Absolutely,” Chris said with a polite nod. “Looking forward to it.”
We chatted for a few more minutes about logistics, schedules, and the kids’ routines.
Chris was a natural. He even asked thoughtful questions about Olivia’s picky eating and Max’s love for dinosaurs.
Jake stood there quietly, arms crossed, like someone had just stolen his favorite toy.
After Chris left, the silence in the house was thick.
Jake finally turned to me in the hallway.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“About what?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“About hiring him. A guy? To babysit?
Anna, what were you thinking?”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall.
“Why not? He’s professional, experienced, and hot.
You said that’s what you were looking for, didn’t you?”
His jaw clenched. “That’s not funny.”
I stepped closer and looked him dead in the eye.
“Neither was what you said in front of your friends.
Or how you treat me like a glorified maid in my own home.”
Jake opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t have a comeback. He just muttered something about “double standards” and walked into the kitchen like a sulky teenager.
But the best part?
Chris started the next day, and he was amazing.
The kids loved him immediately.
Max latched onto his leg within five minutes. Olivia made him sit for a tea party and called him “Mr.
Chris” like he was a cartoon character.
Chris didn’t just play with them. He cleaned up after meals, read bedtime stories, and even fixed the squeaky cabinet hinge Jake had promised to repair for three months.
Three whole months.
I watched Jake that evening from the hallway.
He sat on the couch with a book in his lap, eyes flicking over the top of the pages toward the playroom every two minutes.
When Chris finally left, Jake shut the book and looked up at me.
“So you’re just going to keep him around?”
I smiled and leaned against the counter. “Well, until I find someone hotter.”
Jake’s mouth fell open for a second, but he said nothing.
He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night.
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and pancakes. Jake was in the kitchen, already dressed, packing Olivia’s snack bag.
By the end of the week, he was coming home earlier.
Not just by five minutes, but a whole hour.
He started asking the kids questions, building blanket forts, and giving baths. One night, I walked in to find him making dinner.
Real dinner. Not frozen pizza.
I leaned on the doorframe, arms folded.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”
Jake looked up with tired eyes and a sheepish grin.
“I get it now,” he said. “I was a world-class jerk. And I’m sorry.”
There was a pause.
He looked like he was expecting me to bite back, to rub it in.
But I didn’t.
I walked over, kissed his cheek, and said quietly, “I’m glad you’re learning.”
We don’t have a babysitter anymore. It’s not that Chris wasn’t perfect; he absolutely was.
But after a few weeks, I realized we didn’t actually need one.
What we really needed was for Jake to understand how much I had been carrying. I needed him to see how invisible I had started to feel, and how easy it is to take someone for granted when you believe they’ll never leave, never change, and never push back.
