Page 78 of The MC's Little Brother

Without prompting, the boy got up and headed for the stairs, his sister on his heels behind him. I followed because what else was I supposed to do? Maybe I wasn’t the best option for a babysitter.

He crept into a room at the end of the hall and went straight for the crib, leaning over the bars to talk to the baby fussing inside. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, Ellie. Mom and Dad are gonna be mad.”

The second she noticed her big brother, the crying stopped. She stood, holding onto the railing of the crib, and reached for him. He shook his head.

“You know how to get out. You do it.”

I frowned, looking at the little girl with the glasses. “How old is she?”

“Almost two,” she replied. “She started sleeping funny when Ryder was born. Mommy called it sleep-regressive. She should have slept all night by now.”

I didn’t know anything about that, or babies in general, but it seemed like a bad idea to let the toddler climb out of the crib by herself. I was going to help, but the boy seemed to know what he was doing. He dragged the mattress off the twin-size bed on the opposite side of the room and put it at the base of the crib, standing nearby as the toddler climbed the rails and back down again, plopping onto the mattress with a big smile.

“Woah.”

Her sister nodded sagely. “Ellie’s gonna join me in gymnastics soon.”

“Nuh uh!” the boy argued. “She’s gonna go to class with me! Gymnastics is boring!”

I could tell by their tones that they were about to fight, but I didn’t know how to make them stop. Instead, I watched the toddler carefully climb off the mattress before walking over to me and lifting her hands, wiggling her fingers.

“Uppies.”

I frowned at her, and the boy paused his argument to say, “She wants you to pick her up. Careful, she’s heavy, and she never wants to be put down.”

Oh. I was a little uncomfortable with picking her up, but she looked up at me with those big innocent eyes and I felt bad saying no. Carefully, I picked her up and propped her on my hip, studying her with a frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“No seep,” she said with a lot more determination than I thought a baby would have. She wasn’t tired, maybe?

“Daddy sings to her to get her to sleep,” the little girl said, tipping her head at her little sister. “You want songs?”

That got a big nod. “Dada songs.”

I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t sure when her dad would be coming home. Or Mattias. I should’ve checked my phone before he left.

The boy pointed at the rocking chair in the corner. “If you sit there and rock her while you sing, she’ll go back to sleep.”

Startled, I jerked my head back. “Wait. Me?”

He shrugged. “She doesn’t like it when Gracie sings, and I don’t know all the words to songs. You gotta try.”

Floored, I stood frozen for a second. The only songs I knew all the words to were from musicals. I doubted the baby would care much. Would the other two? Did it matter? I mean, a little. Mattias was friends with their parents, so we’d be around each other a lot. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I also never sang out loud before. What if I was bad at it?

The little girl patted my arm gently. “It’s okay. Just give it a try.”

The baby patted my cheek, cooing at me. “S’okay.”

With a defeated sigh, I let the older two herd me to the big rocking chair. I wasn’t tall enough to reach the floor in it, it was so big. Probably because their dad was enormous. They seemed to have thought of that because thelittle girl pushed a stool closer so I could use it. The baby sat in my lap, beaming at me. She didn’t look even a little tired. Would this even work?

Clearing my throat awkwardly, I rubbed my hand over my hair. “Uh… okay, I only know a few. I guess…” I ran through a few before settling on one of my favorites. If I slowed it down, it was sort of a lullaby.

I started rocking, helping myself keep pace as I hummed out the starting. The little boy sat on the floor by the crib, his sister sitting on top of the mattress, clutching a stuffed bunny to her chest. I avoided eye contact, focusing on not stumbling over the words as I ran through the Wicked soundtrack. My cheeks were burning by the end of the first song, but it was working. The baby stuck her thumb in her mouth and slowly leaned on my chest and by the time I started the third song, her breathing was slow and even. I kept going because I couldn’t see her to tell if she was fully out or not. When I finished it, I finally looked up and blanched, seeing Mattias standing in the doorway.

“I-I-”

He put his finger to his lips, coming over to pick up the baby. He rocked her a little as he moved, keeping up the motion until he laid her back in the crib. The baby wasn’t the only one who fell asleep; her older sister was asleep on the mattress on the floor. Mattias picked her up next, and I hurried to help the boy put the mattress back on the bed so he could put her down. We crept out of the room and I held my breath when he closed the door. If Jorge even caught me humming, he’d scream at me. Would Mattias hate it too?

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