As I'm preparing myself for the four hours of babysitting ahead of me, I hear a gentle knock on my door.

"Wren, be ready in five minutes please," Dad notifies, behind the door.

"Okay," I call out.

I pull over my red windbreaker and zip up my tight dark blue jeans. I run my fingers through my hair once again and turn around, leaving my bedroom and walking down the staircase.

"Please call a few hours in to let us know you're alright, oh and no ordering pizza and please, please-"

"Call you when I'm ready," I finish Mom's sentence.

"Well, you seem to know the drill." She kisses my cheek. "Please try to have fun," she says once more before I walk out.

Fun and babysitting don't mesh in my opinion. It's like eating bush peas with milk. I don't tell her that. I already give the woman a mouthful of my own smarty-pants-answer-backs that she's had enough of, oh so she calls them.

"So this friend of yours, how come I've never met him?" I ask Dad once we're in the car.

"You have, you were just too little to remember, well, since the last time he saw you. Actually it surprises me that you haven't caught up recently," he says, buckling his seatbelt.

"Nonsense, my memory is terrific. Give me something, a date, anything."

"Ah let's see...you were ten years old, he was twenty. His name's Michael, but he calls himself, "Flea"- his pseudonym in the band he's in. I remember him coming over one time and got you a Barbie, after you were upset for weeks that your cousin Jill took it and flushed it down the toilet. He was so kind. We talked about a lot of things, things you wouldn't remember."

"Okay I thought we established that I would've remembered a lot of things, but clearly not this one. I remember the Barbie thing, but never heard about a Michael in my life. And what band?"

He chuckled, making a turn on the road and said, "I think they're called hot, red spicy...no, that's not it. The saucy ketchup..." he finally gives up.

I laugh. "Must be some band."

"Well anyway, he remembers you. At least try and act like you know what he's talking about. It'll hurt his feelings if you don't. Oh you were so cute, he wanted his own kids after he saw you. I just caught up with him after I would say, years."

I take in a sharp breath as the car halts to a stop. "So what exactly is so important that he needs a babysitter until almost midnight?"

"He didn't give much detail. Gotta love the man, still. He's our family friend, so I appreciate you doing this favour for him."

Family friends don't exactly knock off and don't see each other for years but whatever. I can tell it really means a lot to my parents, so I don't argue.

We walk up the long pathway, to a medium-sized house with lovely smelling grass and tiny lilies surrounding the front; I could stay out here all day.

Dad knocks on the door, and we wait a small while before a man with short brown hair comes to the door.

"Neil, it's so good to see you," I'm guessing he's Michael, or "Flea" says, enthusiastically. I laugh at that name.

"You too Michael," Dad replies in shock as they hug for a moment.

Michael's gaze is now focused on me, a gap between his front two teeth as he smiles and says, "Wow, Wren...you've grown."

"Hi. It's nice to see you again."

If only I remembered him.

"You too, come here," he says, motioning for a hug.

I hug him; his embrace is warm. The buckles of his leather jacket pierce into my chest. He's not wearing a shirt underneath it, oddly enough. He smells of sweat. But I don't judge. Where is he going dressed like that?

"Come inside, please."

We follow him inside, down a long hallway and into what looks to be the living room. There are framed records hanging on the wall, and a few awards here and there lined up on shelves.

He points around the area, giving brief description of his home. "Living room, kitchen, diner, upstairs, bedroom, not much. Clara's toys, Clara's bottle, Clara's diapers, and..." he picks up a curly little blonde-haired toddler, "Clara." He taps her button nose and kisses her cheek.

"Jungle man," she states cutely, pointing at her daddy.

He laughs and says to me, "She likes saying that."

"Well I guess if you have everything you need, I'll be on my way," Dad says, tickling Clara's chin as she giggles uncontrollably.

"I, uh, I guess so," I say blandly, still unsure of what to do where Dad's leaving me off.

"You'll be fine. Bye sweetie, take care," Dad says, kissing my head.

"I'll see you around Neil," says Michael. "Hope to catch up with you sometime soon, and not so briefly."

"Of course."

With that, Dad's out the door.

"I won't be leaving for another twenty minutes or so, still have a lot to get ready for. Don't be nervous, I trust you." He grins a little.

"That makes one of us," I said, making myself comfortable on his couch.

He chuckles. "Forced into this?"

"No," I say, hands rest behind my head, "I'm just a - and I quote my mother - 'a lazy, self absorbed know-it-all little girl who thinks she knows more than her parents, when she can't even fend for herself yet, and has difficult to obtain objectives in life without really knowing how to go about them.' I think that if me as a person were to be an actual definition in the dictionary, that would be it according to her."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," he tries to say, blinking and moving his head away from Clara reaching for his nose.

"Clara, no," he says gently but firmly. "Daddy doesn't like that very much."

"Jungle man!" she shouts again.

I let out a laugh at the cute sight.

"That amuse you?" he asks, smiling at my giggle.

"Yeah, it did."

He sets her down and says, "Phone's over here when you need to call Mom, I haven't got much in the fridge but if you're hungry I'm sure you can order something."

Not mentioning the fact that Mom told me specifically not to order anything, I just said, "Thanks."

I'm sure I can buy from somewhere. After all, she said not to order pizza, right?

"Alright, great. Thank you for agreeing to this once again. I thought all hope was gone."

"Just out of curiosity if you don't mind me asking, where are you going?"

"Running a few errands, sound checks, tour preparation, all that. I'll be right back," he says as he disappears up the stairs.

I blow air out of my mouth, watching Clara play with a bear. So when he's gone, do I just sit here, or...?

The doorbell rings. Michael comes back jogging down the stairs almost, and opens the door.

"Anthony," he says. I hear a slap and manly hugging, when a tall, muscular man with long, light brown hair walks through the door, Clara being the first thing he notices. He walks up to her, picks her up, planting kisses all over her face.

"Hi there sweetie, missed me?"

"Yah," Clara says.

"Yeah?" Anthony repeats, tickling her.

She laughs uncontrollably again; she's so adorable. And damn, so is he. I love cute guys with little children, it gives me butterflies of bliss.

His gaze is then directed at me, and he smiles, introducing himself confidently, "Hi, I'm Anthony." He offers out his free hand.

"Hi," I say, shaking his hand, "I'm Wren." He eyes me, toe to head.

"Oh, Wren," he says my name as if he's heard it before. "You must be Clara's babysitter. Flea told me you were coming."

I just nod.

"So, Red Hot Chili Peppers sound familiar to you?"

"Familiar? Sure," I said, chuckling as I remember Dad's synonyms trying to remember it in the car. "Is that the name of your band?"

"Sure is," he said proudly.

"I'm always the last to know when famous people are around," I kid.

He laughs along playfully, squeezing Clara's little hands.

He's wearing these black, shorts overalls with a white shirt underneath, his hair out and parted on the side, some tucked behind his ear, with short boots on. Far, he is hot.

"Jungle man," Clara repeats, pulling Anthony's hair.

"Ready?" Michael says as he's coming down the stairs.

"As ever." Anthony suddenly hands Clara to me. It feels weird because I wasn't ready, and never held a baby before.

"Here's my number if there are any problems," Michael says, handing me a sticky note with a number scribbled on it.

I take it and say, "I think I can handle it."

But of course, that's just an assumption.

-

what do you guys think of the story so far? I've worked really hard. Thanks!