Broken Babysitter

As with many of my stories, there is a decent amount of build-up prior to the action. Hopefully that won't put you off too much.

Jessie sighed and looked longingly at the rippling water of the in-ground pool. The sun was bright and the thermometer said 85. It would have been nice to just lounge about, but between helping her employer set up and watching their daughter, she was doing anything but lounging.

The neighborhood barbecue had been sort of spontaneous for the Barretts. The way Marcie told it to her, after she'd finished her work at home one day, she'd stood in their kitchen, where you could see the living room, dining area, and out the doors to the patio and the pool, and realized she'd never had a party despite the house and yard clearly being made for it. They'd bought the house with the pool because Marcie swam and they thought their daughter Anya would like it, but at three years old she could only use about a quarter of it even with a rescue-craft's worth of flotation devices on her.

So she'd dutifully called up all the neighborhood families and invited them over. Now about thirty people of various ages and states of dress ran around the formerly empty space Marcie had been looking at, her running around making sure everyone was having a good time while her husband Roman held court at the grill, dropping chicken, dogs, burgers, and corn onto plates for people to grab or for his wife to set out on the picnic table.

Jessie had babysat for the Barretts for two years, since her junior year of high school. Marcie worked from home while Roman had his own construction business and was often on sites surveying or supervising. They'd had Anya in day care initially but once she was walking and eating solids regularly they opted to save some money by hiring a sitter for after noon. They'd been thinking a college student initially, but Jessie had responded. She'd been in accelerated classes at school by then and was taking courses from the local college online because her school didn't offer them. She was the school's star pupil even then and everyone from faculty to peers knew she was going to be the valedictorian. She'd used that reputation to finagle permission to leave early when her study periods lined up with the end of the day. Marcie had been hesitant at first because Jessie couldn't take the full half day consistently, but Jessie had impressed her so much the first week that she decided to go with it. Marcie mostly made her own hours as a marketing consultant, so she kept little Anya entertained and observed until Jessie showed up. Now that she'd graduated, she was almost more like a nanny, showing up in the morning and staying until both parents were done work, though sometimes they invited her for dinner.

Of course Jessie was also the go-to person for special events like date nights, award ceremonies, weddings, and whatever else the Barretts had to attend, hence her invite to the barbecue despite her living five miles away in an apartment with her mother and grandma.

Jessie looked over. Anya was currently under the care of a loud, jovial gay couple from up the street. Both of the guys looked like underwear models and enhanced the look by wearing Speedo swimsuits under unbuttoned white collared shirts. Jessie had heard and seen a number of the neighborhood women checking them out and lamenting missed opportunities. Their eyes often strayed to Roman afterward.

Marcie's husband was in his late thirties and looked rugged, but in a good way. He had some scars and bumps from old injuries and construction mishaps, but he wasn't sitting behind a desk for his business; he still spent time on job sites and hauling materials, so he had a solid build to him. He was in board shorts and a tank top currently, but that showed off enough developed muscle and tanned Spanish skin to draw the eye. Jessie had, on a few occasions, seen more of Mr. Barrett as he came out of a shower and knew his legs and abs had just as much definition. She'd never seen the full prize that Marcie got to enjoy, but her imagination filled that in.

Most of the men, meanwhile (and possibly a few of the women) were watching Marcie. She had a swimmer's body, a sport she'd excelled in through her own high school and college years. Her honey blonde, shoulder-length hair was at the longest she'd had it since she was a little girl, according to what she'd told Jessie; previously she'd kept it short to fit under swim caps easier. She still swam to work out, so she had the thin, toned body of an athlete, but without bulging muscles. She didn't have protruding bones either; her work schedule and some diet compromises from raising Anya had given her a softness, but her body overall was all sleek curves with a nicely shaped rear, smooth tummy, and modest 32B breasts. It was no wonder to Jessie the woman still wore a bikini.

She sighed again and looked down at herself. As the only real teenager there she attracted some looks, but she thought Marcie outclassed her even though she was fifteen years older. Jessie's eighteen year old body was curvy and enticing, but she knew that was mostly her age. She was in a one-piece suit today, and not even one of those with cutouts or sharp lines in the openings; the only things visible were her legs and arms and part of her upper back. The tightness of the suit revealed the squishy bulge of the butt she knew was a bit bigger than it should be, and the slight pudge of her tummy that she constantly checked for expansion. Of course, the suit didn't pull too tightly against that because of her chest; her 36DD breasts were still perky enough even without support to push the suit away and create some cleavage above the top. She'd always been fascinated and envious of Marcie's body and had caught herself staring more than once when the woman wore tight or revealing clothes. She remembered one night when the Barretts had been going out Marcie came downstairs in a maroon sheath dress that moved like it was liquid against the woman's skin. Jessie had literally needed to wipe her drool away.

A squeal and a giggle snapped her out of her musing. She looked over and saw Anya determinedly climbing the water slide's ladder, a five foot height. The gay couple were chatting with a bored housewife and hadn't noticed. The slide fed into the middle of the pool where it was about five feet deep, but Anya had on nothing but her suit.

"Anya, get down; you know you need your floaties," Jessie called and started walking over to reinforce the command by force if needed.

Then her heart stopped and the world went into slow motion.

Anya had turned on the ladder toward Jessie and lost her balance. Jessie saw her let go to steady herself, forgetting she was on a three-inch wide plastic step. Jessie yelled Anya's name and went into a sprint, probably the fastest she'd moved since her last gym class two months ago.

Anya's foot slipped on the wet plastic and banged into the metal pole. She pitched sideways with a shriek, either from surprise or from banging her foot.

Jessie got there just as Anya fell completely off. She caught the girl and felt like she'd been punched in the stomach as she hit. Then her foot landed on something wet, smooth, and full of air.

-=-=-=-=-=-

"Jessie, can you hear me?"

Jessie could hear the person talking, but she really didn't want to, because it made her head hurt. Her senses seemed to check in one at a time:

Ears: person speaking, probably man, also beeping and background noise.

Skin: Soft surface, scratchy, almost plastic coverings. Pillow behind her head, also covered in a scratchy case.

Nose: harsh chemical smells. Sterile chemicals. This smells like a hospital.

Eyes: Everything is way too bright. But it is a hospital.

"What?" she rasped out, barely; her mouth was a desert cave and her tongue felt like sandpaper.

"Here," a female voice sounding very worried said, and a cup was placed at her mouth. She sipped as it was tipped up, then grimaced and shivered as some ran out the sides of her mouth.

"Sorry," the voice said, "I'll go get everyone."

"I think just the mother," the male voice said.

Jessie looked over and saw a doctor that fit every stereotype; older, balding, grey hair, thick framed glasses, compassionate smile and eyes, holding a tablet that presumably had all of her vitals on it.

Then the rest of her body checked in and there was a lot of pain. She winced.

"Try not to move much," the doctor said.

Jessie looked down.

Her right arm was barely visible. A black shoulder sling covered most of it and held it against her body. The part of her arm and hand sticking out of the bottom were encased in a cast that started just before the second knuckles in her fingers and she could feel went back halfway down her arm.

Her left arm was also in a cast, but this one stopped at the bottom of her thumb and went all the way up past her elbow.

"What do you remember?" the doctor asked.

"Um, the barbecue. Oh! Anya!" Jessie yelled and tried to move, then whimpered in pain. The doctor put a hand on her left shoulder and stopped her.

"The little girl is fine. A bruise or two, and that's mostly because of you. Everyone's really lucky you were there," the doctor said.

"Oh thank God," Jessie huffed out, her heart trying to calm down.

"Unfortunately you didn't make out as well. According to people who were there, you stepped on a pool toy or something that had been left by the side. Since you'd just run over, you fell over completely. You kept the girl in your arms, but that means when you landed you dislocated your right shoulder and the little girl's head slammed your hand between it and the concrete and broke it. Then your head bounced off the ground and gave you a concussion, knocking you out. In a final thank you from gravity, your arm flung around and hit the corner of the pool, braking the ulna in your left arm. Fortunately the radius was still intact."

As the doctor finished his explanation, a voice said, "Jessie!"

Jessie felt her eyes well up as her mother dashed into the room. She was in maroon scrubs, her usual outfit for her work as a nurse. Jessie knew they weren't in her hospital; her mother worked at a large hospital in the city and she could still see suburbs out of her window.

Her mother was a larger woman and her scrubs didn't give much shape to her figure. Jessie didn't care; her mother's soft hugs and cuddles had always been a source of comfort, even during difficult times between them. She apparently got her black hair from her now absent father; her mother's was brown and curly, currently pulled back in a pony tail. She instinctively started to hug and then winced again.

"Don't move baby; you'll break everything they put back together," her mother said to her, then looked at the doctor and asked, "Four to six, right?"

The doctor nodded. "For the hand and the arm, definitely. You can lose the sling after a few days, maybe a week to be safe. But don't try picking that little girl up any time soon; that shoulder needs recovery time."

"How much longer do you want her here for?" her mother asked and Jessie broke in.

"Wait, longer? I can't go home?" she asked.

"Honey, you were out for a day. The party was yesterday," her mother said.

Jessie settled back and tried to accept the concept that she'd lost a day. She looked out the window again. It was definitely afternoon, probably later than the party had been at the Barretts'.

"Thank you doctor," her mother said. The doctor nodded and walked out.

Her mother pulled a chair over and then worked some controls on the bed. It lowered a bit and made it easier for her to lean over and reach her daughter's head. Now that she was closer, Jane could see signs of her mother's worry; red eyes and puffiness from crying or at least tearing up, raw nostrils from rubbing and blowing her nose, and some out of place hair that betrayed her mother's habit of constantly running her hair through her fingers when she was worried. She'd grab a bunch and run it through her fingers until it was partially straightened from the pulling and shredded from her nails.

"Baby I was so worried about you," she said, admitting what Jessie could already tell.

"I'm okay Mom," Jessie replied. Her mother had leaned over awkwardly to hug her and Jessie was able to partially snuggle, her head settling nicely into the padded gap between her mother's chin and her chest.

She enjoyed the semi-awkward snuggle for a while, but then she took a deep breath and asked, "Do I need to stay?"

"You had a concussion, honey, and you just woke up. They need to keep you for observation," her mother said.

"Mom," Jessie said quietly, "We can't afford it if I stay. I've already been here overnight and they probably called an ambulance to the ER, right? We're easily over a thousand in bills already!"

"Baby you shouldn't worry about that," her mother said, but Jessie could hear the faint strain she'd started to notice when she was twelve after she'd blown up at her mother for never being home. Her grandmother had given her a very stern, very pointed talking-to about her mother's responsibilities and sacrifices.

"I suppose it's a good thing I didn't get a sports scholarship to the college," Jessie said, "Then again it would give me an excuse to not go and get a job."

"Jessie Amanda, you stop that talk right now. You have an opportunity lots of people don't get and I will not see you waste it," her mother said.

It was an old fight Jessie was too tired to have right now. She settled back into her mother's embrace until a quiet knock interrupted them.

"Hello?" Jessie heard Marcie say.

"Mrs. Barrett, I told you I'd call you," her mother said in her "respectful but annoyed" voice.

"Oh God, Jessie you're okay!" Marcie said, moving to the foot of her bed. Jessie saw tears running down the woman's cheek. Contrary to the bikini she'd seen her employer in at the party, she now wore fashionable slacks that were still tight enough to show off her legs and butt, and a tight ribbed shirt that stopped at her navel with her hair in a bun except for a few stray locks framing her face. Jessie marveled at how good the woman looked even in distress and visiting a hospital.

"Marcie, shouldn't you be checking on Anya?" Jessie asked, pulling away from her mother. She was annoyed that her voice still sounded a bit raspy when she spoke loudly.

"Oh she's fine; she's at home with Roman. Did no one tell you?" she asked.

"No, the doctor mentioned," Jessie said, then swallowed, "I'm...I'm really sorry about that; I should have been paying better attention to her. I...I hope you'll still let me watch her but I understand if-"

"Oh stop, stop, please," Marcie interrupted, wiping away tears, "God Jessie if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have Anya anymore. I told you; you weren't responsible for watching her at the party. When I looked, the Stevens were playing pokies with her or something and I thought she was fine. I mean they had to check her out for a concussion and of course she screamed when they cleaned her cuts but she got to ride in an ambulance with Daddy so of course she's still hyped up about that. That's her new career goal, by the way; 'driving the amboolance'."

Everyone chuckled at Marcie's imitation of her daughter's phrasing.

"I'm sorry I interrupted; you should spend time with your mother now," Marcie said.

"It's okay Mrs. Barrett-"

"Please call me Marcie. I've known your daughter for so long now, it's like she's family," Marcie said.

"Okay Marcie," Jessie's mother said with what seemed to be a genuine smile, "I have to get going anyway. It's an hour and a half to County General from here and my shift starts at seven."

"Mom, we should get me discharged before that. Otherwise you won't be able to come get me until tomorrow afternoon," Jessie said.

"Discharged?" Marcie asked, alarmed, "They're letting you go already?"

"No, they aren't," Jessie's mom replied, looking insistently at Jessie, "You're staying here until the doctors say it's okay."

"But we can't-"

"We're not talking about this," Jessie's mother interrupted, "I'm telling your grandmother. If you show up at home tonight, she's going to call me and I will come back and drive you back to this hospital, and I'll make you explain to my boss why I'm dodging my shift."

Jessie winced. Her mother's boss for the last five years was an older man who was like a kindly uncle to her. He had an unnerving ability to make her feel insanely guilty about interfering in her mother's work, quietly bringing out deep levels of shame in her when a few of her adolescent antics had caused her mother to miss shifts or time at work.

Marcie caught her mother's arm as she walked out, and said, "Mrs. Caplan, your daughter is an amazing young woman. You've done a wonderful job raising her."

Jessie thought her mother was a bit shocked at the intensity of Marcie's words. She smiled and said thank you before ducking out. Jessie winced as she tried to find a comfortable position in the bed.

"Here, let me help you," Marcie said and came up to the head of the bed to help shuffle around the pillow and bedding.

"Your mother is an amazing woman," she said, "I talked to her a bit yesterday and today. I wish I'd met her before now."

"Her schedule's a mess a lot of the time," Jessie said, "Sometimes I don't see her for a couple of days because our schedules are too mismatched."

"Yeah. I think she was worried I was here to press charges or something. I tried to reassure her, but she didn't believe me," Marcie said.

"Her hospital sees a lot of hard-up patients. Some of them have their hearts set on a big insurance claim or injury suit giving them their meal ticket. One mother actually pushed her kid down a flight of stairs and tried to sue her landlord for not cleaning them off in the winter. That turned into a whole mess," Jessie said.

"Oh that's horrible," Marcie said.

"Um, look, Mrs. Barrett-"

"Uh oh. You only call me that when you have something bad to tell me," Marcie said with a warm but worried smile.

"Look, I...I obviously won't be able to do much for a week, probably but I can still watch Anya with the casts. I just won't be able to pick her up or anything. I hope-"

"Jessie what are you talking about?" Marcie said, "I wouldn't make you watch Anya until you're better!"

"No!" Jessie said and only realized when Marcie looked shocked that she might have yelled, "I need-...I mean I want to. I don't want Anya to be worried, and you still need the help." Jessie almost broke down and begged not to be replaced but she didn't want to sacrifice her pride that much if she could help it.

Marcie had an unreadable expression as she looked at Jessie. An awkward silence grew until Marcie quietly said, "Jessie...I'm sorry for asking this but...did you want to leave the hospital because you can't afford it?"

Jessie felt her eyes sting and she cursed her arms and her inability to wipe off her eyes. She saw Marcie look around and then she came over with a tissue and gently wiped Jessie's eyes. She was surprised by how tender and soft Marcie's hand felt.

"Jessie why didn't you say something? Roman and I would have helped out," Marcie said.

"We're not-...we're okay," Marcie said, "I'm still a student, so I'm on my mom's insurance, but...I know it's not that great, and my Mom always tells me about people getting their friends or Ubers to the hospital so they don't have to pay for ambulances. And I've already been here overnight, I just...If you could keep me on I need to help my mother pay for this."

"No," Marcie said.

Jessie had been expecting it, but Marcie's flat denial still felt like a punch to the gut. She figured after two years there was more of a bond, especially with what she'd told her mother, but in the end it turned out she was just "the help."