Page 36 of Trust and Obey

I glanced at her. “Any help here? Do you know what your bother really wants?”

“I want Cheerios!” Kale continued to wail. “Now, now, now, now…”

“How about oatmeal?” I asked, but, surprise, surprise, oatmeal was not popular toddler chow.

Kale shrieked, and Mercedes wrinkled her nose.

In desperation I tried to sell it. “This is special vacation oatmeal. With maple, and butter, and lots, and lots of sugar on top.”

I didn’t know how much the three-year-old understood of that, but at least he stopped wailing.

Mercedes’ eyes went wide. “Can I have chocolate chips in it?” she asked, pushing her own cereal bowl away.

Kid, I thought, if it shuts your brother up, I will put a Snickers bar in it.

I finally got the little brats, ahem, precious darlings to eat breakfast. I think there were more chocolate chips in there than actual oatmeal, but at that point I did not care.

At least until the sugar rush kicked in.

Mother Vander-Hoyt came in as I was cleaning up stray bits of Cheerios and the sticky remains of the breakfast from the counter. Too bad there were no TVs to plop the kids in front of, but they each seemed to have a tablet preloaded with video games.

“I will get the children dressed,” she informed me. “And you will take them swimming in the pool.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She favored me with a long look. “Where is our normal maid?”

She’s a trained relaxation consultant with a degree in children’s education, not a maid, I wanted to tell her. Instead, I said, “Elle had other tasks today.”

“When will she be back?”

“I haven’t been told, but I’m here to help.” I put on a bright smile.

She sniffed and went to go oversee the children.

Little kids scream a lot. These two seemed to make it a contest. They screamed at the water. They screamed while playing. They screamed at each other. And they screamed at me.

Meanwhile, the parents were completely checked out, working on their own tablets in the villa.

Mother and Father Vander-Hoyt also kept requesting special mixed drinks from the bar, which made things a little complicated because it wasn’t like I could leave the children alone in the pool. So, Mercedes and Kale had to be taken out of the pool—still screaming—while I rushed into the villa and mixed a drink. Dashing around like a chicken with its head cut off, I handed the cocktails over to the parents and then dashed back outside to let the kids back in the pool. Then, you guessed it, more screaming happened.

By the time lunch rolled around, I had a headache and a serious craving for some earplugs.

Maybe the kids would crash for an afternoon nap. They still took afternoon naps at those ages, right?

But to my surprise, mother Vander-Hoyt coldly stepped in and started making sandwiches out of the provided meats and condiments in the refrigerator.

I was too exhausted to question her sudden helpfulness, but really should have when Andy came over my tiny staff walkie-talkie and requested my presence back at the main office.

With a sense of dread and relief, I let the Vander-Hoyts know I would be back shortly and asked for any meal requests on my way back.

I got the cold shoulder.

It had been a while since I’d been called to see the manager. It was a little like being called to the principal’s office. Andy was at his desk which was pretty much groaning with overflowing paperwork.

I knocked on the open door in courtesy before I stepped in. “Hey Andy, you called?”

“Kendall,” Andy said. “Have a seat—oh, you probably want to move some of those papers. Put them on my desk.”

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