Page 8 of Off Limits (Alpha Billionaire)

Mrs. Anderson already had the TV on and was navigating to the streaming service that had Max’s favorites. High-tech on-demand television was wonderful. I had grown up with cable, and I had thought that was pretty good. There was always something I could find to watch with cable, but Max was growing up being able to watch exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.

“Put that one in here,” I told Max.

He shook his head and held the last one close. “Mine.”

“Okay, you can hold that while you watch your show. Let’s go potty first.” I didn’t want him to have an emergency while sitting on his grandmother. She just couldn’t move fast enough. “We’ll be right back,” I announced.

“I’ll still be here,” Mrs. Anderson said.

We stepped out into the hall and walked down to the bathroom. Mrs. Anderson had a private bathroom in her rooms, but it was packed full with medicines and items to help with her medical needs. Max was a curious boy, and all that stuff plus him was a very bad combination. I made that mistake only once.

We took care of business and carefully washed Max’s hands. My arms reached around him as he stood on the step stool in front of me. My hands were over his, and I helped him to rub hishands together and get between his fingers. I sang the alphabet song, and he sang along. When I had started, he knew almost the entire alphabet, and now he was able to sing all the way through without mumbling. He still saidelemenpeewhen we got to the L-M-N-O-P part. But that was all part of it.

“All done,” he announced as soon as we sang, ‘and zee.’

“Yep, all done.” I grabbed a hand towel and dried our hands off. “Are you ready to go back to Nana?”

He was more than ready and ran out of the bathroom and down the hall. He chucked along with his little arms pumping.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Clara’s disapproving voice rang through the hall.

“We’re headed back to watch a show with Mrs. Anderson,” I answered.

Max stood frozen in place. I wouldn’t blame him if he started to cry. She wasn’t friendly at all and didn’t even try to be. Clara was like a spoiled lapdog or cat. She only liked one person—Mrs. Anderson—and she was aggressive and mean toward everyone else.

I took Max’s hand and kept walking past Clara. We just needed to go three steps and then we would be at the door.

“I don’t like him running around Mrs. Anderson,” she snapped.

“He doesn’t. He’s very careful with his grandmother and is excited to get back to watching TV,” I said. I didn’t know why I was always justifying my actions, or Max's actions, to this woman. She had nothing to do with either of us, and her criticism was always unwarranted.

“I just saw him running. Besides, she’s too tired,” Clara said.

“She was fine when we left five minutes ago. And he was running to hurry back to her. Once we’re inside, he will walk and be very careful, as he always is,” I said with clipped tones. “Excuse us.”

She was blocking the hall, and we just needed to get to the doorstep.

“Did he wash his hands?”

I closed my eyes and counted slowly before opening them again. “Really? What do you think? Of course we washed hands.”

“I think you should do it again. He probably didn’t do more than run some water over his fingers,” Clara said.

“No, he is not going to wash his hands again. Max is learning to wash his hands for an appropriate amount of time, twenty seconds at the very least. With soap and hot water. Now, please let us get to the door. Mrs. Anderson is waiting for us.” I picked Max up and brushed past Clara.

She wasn’t going to move, and I was done with this game.

“Max, we’re all ready to start. Jessica, help him up onto my lap,” Mrs. Anderson directed as soon as we walked into the room.

I lifted Max onto her lap. She adjusted her lap blanket, and they looked cozy and ready to enjoy the show. She hitPlay. I stepped back and let them be. Her basket of crochet work was slightly to the side and behind her recliner. I fingered her project. The yarn was soft and had a variation in the colors, so as she worked with it, it created stripes. It was good to see that she was slowly making progress. The stripe was a different color.

About thirty or so minutes later, I heard my name.

“Jessica?” Mrs. Anderson asked. “Are you still here?”

I stood and stepped forward so she could see me. “Of course, do you need anything? Should I go get Clara?” That was one thing that was working in my favor. A few days after I started to bring Max for regular visits at roughly the same time every day, Clara decided she didn’t need to be in the room. I preferred it that way. I think everyone did.

“No, she’ll chastise me for having Max on my lap. I’m weak and my joints don’t want to work, but it's not like he’s going to break me. But I wanted to let you know I think he’s asleep.”

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