Main Bonus #67: Babysitting Duties (Patreon)

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Going to be home late. I’m really sorry. I need to practice this variation again. – Beckett

THE TEXT PINGS my phone just as I pour the flour and baking soda mixture into a KitchenAid mixer. After reading the message, my stomach drops. No, no. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. I need my fifteen-year-old brother—this particular brother—in this house today, tonight, asap. I’m talented at many things, but wrangling my other brothers is an art that’s better equipped for two people.

Usually, Moffy would be here with me, and we’d tackle babysitting duties with a breeze. But this weekend, he’s in Los Angeles at a comic book conference with his entire family. And of course, tonight, of all nights, my parents are staying in New York.

They have a very important meeting with some Calloway Couture investors that is supposedly going late, so they’ve already booked a hotel room. Dad offered to stay home. “I know it’s a Friday night,” he said like I had wild Friday night plans that barred me from babysitting my siblings.

I do know of a pool party a senior is throwing. Moffy had been invited with an official paper invite, and the girl threw me a verbal one in the hall. “I guess you can come too, Jane,” she said, as if I didn’t just see her hand Moffy the gold-foiled envelope.

Mine was a lousy pity invite, and I must be feeling petty because I’ve refused to call her anything other than that senior girl all week. I’ve never hated Moffy’s popularity, but sometimes I feel like the ugly duckling standing beside the beautiful jock everyone wants to befriend and seduce.

A high school tragedy.

I might not be cool by Dalton Academy’s standard, despite being born from Cobalt and Calloway royalty, but I won’t change to impress the other seniors. What’s the point? I’ll leave high school, go to college, and never see these people ever again.

I sincerely hope.

Anyway, Moffy is at the airport, so it’s not like he could even go to her pool party. I’d rather put out a dozen fires at home than wander around there alone and pretend to have a good time.

So I have no social functions to attend tonight.

Unless you count my date with a book.

A math book, which I planned to read and brush up on partial derivatives. In truth, it sounds boring, and maybe that’s what I am. Boring.

But it seemed selfish to keep Dad from being Mom’s plus one. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle this on my own. I know his other backup plan is to call one of my aunts or uncles to babysit.

So I told him, “Go. I have this covered. Anyway, Beckett can always help if things get too hairy.”

And now Beckett has all but jumped out of this speeding train. It’s yet to derail, I might add. But he did agree to help me tonight. I know ballet is his lifeblood, but he made a commitment that he can’t worm his way out of this easily.

I dust off my hands with a rag and grab my phone off the marble counter.

“…and then Tinsley said second grade is the hardest of all the grades. That it’s just fact.” Audrey talks a mile a minute while stirring her spatula in a big bowl of frosting. “I asked Tom and he said second grade was a breeze, so what she said can’t be a fact. It’s just an opinion, and we had a quarrel in the hall about it. Ms. Pacey told us to quiet down, but she wouldn’t even hear my side. It was positively aggravating, Jane. You should’ve been there.” She sighs out her frustrations but doesn’t slump on the barstool. She sits pin-straight like she’s competing with Beckett to have the best posture of the family.

I smile at my little sister from across the marble counter of the island. “I would have very much liked to be there,” I tell her. “Right by your side. Nowhere else.”

Her smile brightens.

She’s only seven. Her carrot-orange hair is combed in two smooth low ponytails and tied with blue ribbon. Audrey had asked Mom to brush it before she left for the city.

“It would’ve made my whole week had you been there!” she exclaims. “And oh gosh, Jane, Tinsley thinks her older brother is the coolest person ever, but she has nothing on our brothers. I told her that and that she wishes she had an older sister as amazing as you.”

My cheeks warm, my heart growing.

My little sister thinks I’m amazing. Audrey matters more to me than that senior girl—someone I’ll never see after graduation.

Audrey continues, “Ms. Pacey said I wasn’t very nice, but it was my opinion!” She sighs out. “Tinsley just wants to be right all the time, but she snapped back and said I do too. Is this the right pink, Jane?” She props up the bowl of frosting, which has turned a shade of Pepto Bismol pink. Her fingers are stained with red food coloring.

“Oui,” I reply. “The perfect pink.”

Audrey grins, and as she soaks in the perfect pink frosting, the cupcake tins, and the spread of sprinkles, her giddiness becomes even more palpable. I swear I hear her mutter, “Greatest night ever.” Audrey licks frosting off her finger, still smiling. She’s easily entertained, and the moment I suggested we bake cupcakes, she nearly toppled over in glee.

I wet a towel and pass it over. “For your hands.”

“Thank you, Jane.” While she cleans off the food coloring and frosting, I dial our brother.

He answers on the second ring. “Jane?”

“Beckett.” I press the cell tighter to my ear. “Please tell me this variation will only take ten more minutes.” I hear him panting. He’s slightly out of breath like I stopped him mid-routine. Guilt knots in my stomach for a second, but I remember that I really need his help.

This isn’t a solo task.

“Did Eliot destroy something?” Beckett asks, sounding worried.

“No…” I draw out the word. “He’s not here yet, but there’s plenty of time for destruction.”

“Is Tom throwing a party?”

“He’s also not here yet.”

Beckett exhales a breath of relief. “Then I have some time.”

“Beckett—”

“Please, Jane. This is really important to me.”

It tugs at my heartstrings again. “You said you’d help babysit,” I remind him, my voice softening.

“I said I’d help if your hands are full. It’s only seven o’clock, and it sounds like they’re empty.”

He’s not wrong. Audrey has been sweet as ever, and baking cupcakes with her isn’t even a chore. It’s something I’d do if our parents were here.

But I’m still worried about not having backup. It’s why I sent Beckett everyone’s ETAs like I would’ve sent them to Moffy. It was all in hopes of Beckett Joyce Cobalt being my second-in-command tonight.

And this is what I get? No helping hand, no assistance. Can I even count on him to make it back in time if chaos does ensue? Life is so much easier with a teammate.

Do I need one or do I just want one?

I can’t even be sure which is true.

“Jane?” he says, and I realize I haven’t replied in a solid minute.

“Bonjour Beckett!” Audrey screams at the top of her lungs, nearly obliterating my eardrums.

Beckett laughs. “Tell our sister I say hi.”

“Beckett says hi,” I tell Audrey. “He’s also showing treasonous colors.”

Audrey gasps in horror. “Not Beckett.”

“Jane,” Beckett says, but I hear the smile to his voice.

It makes my lips rise a little, and I take a deep breath and try to push away nerves. “So you’ll be home in an hour when Eliot and Tom return from their friend’s house?”

“I’ll try.”

I’m quiet. Why is this sitting so uneasily with me?

“You’ve babysat a million times before,” Beckett adds. “This is no different.”

“This is very different,” I whisper into the phone as Audrey watches me. “It’s a Friday night. Mom and Dad won’t be home until morning, and all the Hales are on the West Coast. Uncle Lo isn’t in the neighborhood. That’s like removing the Boogeyman from the closet. Who knows what Eliot and Tom will do?”

Eliot and Tom are thirteen and twelve respectively, and normally they don’t need a babysitter if our parents are gone for a few hours. But Mom and Dad specifically told me that Eliot and Tom fall under my babysitting duties tonight. I wonder if they fear Eliot will try to throw some middle school rager. He’s only in seventh grade, but I wouldn’t put it past him to invite friends over.

Merde.

I can’t deal with that alone. See, I need a team. A partner. Moffy. Longing for my best friend is not going to help me tonight.

Beckett goes quiet, and I wonder if he’s weighing my words.

“It’d be better to have some reinforcements is all,” I add.

“I really need to dance this variation again, Jane. I don’t have it down. And it’s killing me.” His sincerity ekes into every word, and I can tell he’s torn. “You have this, sis,” Beckett says. “And if they give you shit, I’ll come home and give it back to them.”

I let out a long breath, conflicted. What if Beckett comes home early and nothing goes wrong? I’d feel awful.

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Merci beaucoup,” he says in a rush and with relief, then says in more hurried French, I love you a million, Jane.

I tell him that I love him a thousand. Of course it’s not true. My love for my siblings is unquantifiable. There is no numerical value for the depth of love between us.

He laughs at my jest, and I say a final goodbye, then toss my phone on the counter.

Audrey perks up. “Is Beckett really treasonous?”

“He won’t be home until late,” I explain.

She pouts, and her shoulders droop. “Really?” Audrey is disappointed because she wants to hang out with Beckett. I’m disappointed because I just want his help, not necessarily so I can spend quality time with our brother.

Am I the worse sister?

My stomach flip-flops with more guilt. “Can you grab the extra cupcake tins from the pantry?” I ask.

“On it,” Audrey hops off the barstool.

I turn back to the mixer and press start. Flour explodes out from the machine in a mushroom cloud, coating my face, my hair, and pastel green blouse.

“Merde,” I curse and cut off the mixer.

Audrey steps out of the pantry and gasps. “Oh Jane,” she says with big wide eyes. “Did you forget the splatter guard again?”

Obviously.

And the fact that this has happened before (and she remembers) is a knock on my ego.

I brush flour from my hair. “A slip of the brain,” I tell her and start dusting myself off. I glance at the clock. It truly is only seven. But all my brothers’ ETAs are permanently etched in my brain.

7:10 PM: Eliot and Tom said they would be back from their friends’ house. They didn’t tell me who this friend was. He could be the devil for all I know. I’m almost positive our parents have the details though. They keep tabs on us all, even if we’re not privy to it.

8:00 PM: Aunt Daisy is driving Ben home after hanging out with Winona.

11:00 PM: Charlie is to be back by his curfew. His current whereabouts are unknown.

I suddenly hear a whoosh—the familiar sound of the sliding back door. Still covered in flour, I race into the living room to see my two brothers home early. Both are wearing their Dalton Academy uniforms, but Tom’s tie is undone and hangs around his neck.

My eyes ping between them. I can’t hide my shock.

As Eliot slings his bookbag on the couch, he looks me up and down. “Did you see a ghost, sister?”

Tom kicks off his Vans and glances in my direction. “She’s definitely startled.”

I adjust my mouth closed. “You’re never this early. On a Friday?” It’s suspicious.

“You think so little of us,” Eliot says, then touches his chest. “I’m wounded.”

“And I’m starving,” Tom says. “What’s for dinner?”

“Pizza is in the kitchen,” I tell them.

They follow me into the war zone where flour coats my baking corner. Luckily, the pizza box is out of the mixer’s radius, a good distance away on the small breakfast table.

Instead of digging into the pizza, Eliot beelines to Audrey. “Are we making cupcakes?” he asks with a grin.

“Audrey and I are making cupcakes,” I say, worried by the mischievous gleam in his eye. “You two are eating pizza.”

“You can’t tell us what to do, Jane Eleanor,” Tom says, hopping up on the island near Audrey’s mixing bowl. “You’re not our boss.”

“Tonight, I am,” I say, hands on my hips, pretending to be Mom. But I know better, these two don’t respect me like a parental figure. They’re the ones who set my dollhouse on fire. Who love to torment and tease.

Tom snatches the mixing bowl and tosses it to Eliot, who then dips his finger in the pink frosting and licks it off.

“Eliot!” Audrey yells, reaching for the bowl. He hands it to her, and she pulls it protectively against her chest. “You are not proving to be cooler than Tinsley’s brother when you do such awful things.”

“Tinsley-who?” Eliot says, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Tinsley…Tinsley,” Audrey says, flustered. She can’t remember her last name.

“Tinsley Tinsley,” Tom grins. “What a name.”

“No, no that’s not her last name. Jane.” She turns to me for an assist.

But unfortunately, I also don’t know Tinsley’s last name. Still, I straighten up and tell our brothers. “She’s right—you aren’t as cool as Tinsley’s older brother. I doubt he’d stick his grimy fingers where they don’t belong.”

“I have the cleanest fingers. So clean, you can hear them squeak when I rub them together. Here, listen.” He rubs his fingers against Audrey’s ear, and her gullible little self listens so very intently.

Eliot and Tom share a silent snicker.

I’m less amused. “It’s not funny.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Audrey says, her cheeks beet-red, knowing she’s a little lost on the joke. “It’s not funny!”

“Are you Jane’s parrot?” Tom asks.

Audrey humphs and crosses her arms. “You’re the worst, the both of you. Not cool at all.” She’s about to hop off the barstool, but Eliot holds out a hand. She waits.

He says, “I assure you, we’re far cooler than someone I don’t even know.”

“Yep,” Tom bounces his head.

“I wish I didn’t know her,” Audrey muses.

“See.” Eliot spreads out his arms. “We don’t even like her.”

Audrey smiles, so easily swayed by them and their devious ways.

I sigh.

Eliot hears the sound I make and says, “I was just quality testing the product.” Then he looks to Audrey. “Ten out of ten.”

“Really?” She beams now.

“The best frosting yet, sister.”

“Did you hear that, Jane?” Audrey asks me.

“Yes, I heard an amateur critic give an unsolicited review.”

Eliot touches his chest, his eyes filling with warmth. “You think me a critic.”

Dear God. I almost wish they did break their curfew and stay out later.

I hear the whoosh of the back door again. I assume Ben has arrived home early too. But then I catch the sound of a girl as she says, “Wow, your house is huge.”

What in the world?

I rush out of the kitchen and nearly collide with my brother in the living room. Thankfully, my feet skid to a stop before there’s a head-on collision. But my brain feels like it experienced a sudden crash. Completely whiplashed by Charlie’s presence.

“What the hell,” I breathe out, winded. Next to him, a curly haired blonde girl holds the straps to her trendy leather backpack purse. Her eyes dart from me to Charlie like she’s waiting for him to introduce her.

He doesn’t.

“What the hell what?” Charlie says casually, dressed in black slacks and a white tee. “Am I not allowed in my own house?”

“Mom and Dad said no guests tonight,” I say with raised brows and then nod to the girl. He’s not that dense. He just views rules as arbitrary things.

Charlie blinks. “Jesus, you really do everything they say. Sometimes I wonder if you can get more predictable and boring, and then…here you are.”

Ouch.

It only hurts because I’ve been thinking the same thing tonight. It’s like Charlie knows the tenderest, most vulnerable spot to poke.

He makes a move to pass me. I sidestep in front of him. “I may be boring, but I’m also in charge tonight,” I say as sharply as I can. “So there won’t be any rule breaking on my watch. Got it?”

“I’m fifteen. It’s not even eight. Get a grip. We’ll be in my room.”

Those last words have me stunned. They’ll be in his room!?

OhmyGod.

What if my brother loses his virginity tonight? Is he even still a virgin? And ew. I don’t want to think about this. I most surely don’t want any sexual activities to happen on my watch.

Charlie takes the girl’s hand and leads her to the winding grand staircase in the entryway. Merde. I peer over my shoulder like I can tap in backup. And that’s when I realize Tom, Eliot, and Audrey have flooded into the living room, but they stand a good distance away as an audience, not active participants, watching like it’s an episode of Game of Thrones.

I try to exhale a tight breath. No murders, no mayhem, this is not fucking Westeros.

This is the Cobalt Estate.

Where chaos reigns supreme.

Great.

I know they’re all more likely to throw gasoline on the fire than help put it out. Even Audrey.

The only sibling I can count on is the one currently obsessing over a ballet move.

This really is just on me.

Okay…you have this, Jane. It’s not like Charlie is throwing a party. This is one girl that I need to kick out. Easy. No worries. I must try a different tactic though.

I hightail it to the grand staircase in the regal entryway, following their footsteps. I sprint to cut them off, and I reach the second stair and splay a hand on the banister, blocking them from going up to his bedroom.

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Mature.”

I ignore him now and look at the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Scarlett,” she says with a smile. “I like your sweater vest.” She seems genuine about it, even though I’m wearing checkered print over the green blouse.

“Thanks,” I reply. “So Scarlett, you seem dreadfully nice. Far too nice to be friends with my brother, actually. I want to spare you from that.” I motion to the front door behind her. “You must go, I’m afraid.”

Charlie doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even deny. Instead, intrigue twinkles in his eyes. He’s curious how my change in strategy will go.

Scarlett adjusts her backpack. “It’s not like that. I’m just going over my notes since Charlie’s missed a couple weeks from World History.”

My brows shoot to the moon, and I look to my brother. “I have so many questions.”

He smiles dryly. “Please don’t bore us with them.”

“You’ve missed two weeks of a World History class?” I say in disbelief. “And you’ve convinced Scarlett you actually need notes on it?”

Scarlett frowns. “Well…” She glances warily at Charlie. “We do have a test coming up.”

The Charlie Keating Cobalt mist has clouded her completely.

I tell her, “One that I assure you my brother can pass after missing the entire year. Let alone two weeks. He doesn’t need your notes.”

Her face goes through a series of emotions before landing on flattery. She’s smiling. I’m taken further aback when her cheeks flush.

“So…you don’t need my notes?” she asks him. “Does this mean you just used it as an excuse for us to be alone together?” She might as well have asked do you like me…like really like me? And her excitement over garnering my brother’s attention nearly spins my head.

No.

Nooooo. How did I just fall into this trap?

Charlie stares at me like he’s already won. But not purely in a triumphant way. Yes, he is smug. But there’s a gloom behind his gaze too. It’s almost like he believes this turned into another boring round of a boardgame.

“Scarlett,” I say. “Since we can all agree this is not about school, you should go home. We’re not allowed guests tonight.” I clap my hands together. “Great, this meeting of minds has concluded. Shoo shoo.” I do shoo her to the door, but she doesn’t budge.

Oh my God, why is this so difficult?

I’m not my mother.

Scarlett would likely be so intimidated by the iconic Rose Calloway that she’d shrink back and run out the door.

Scarlett isn’t running. She’s just looking at Charlie like she’s waiting for his command. But he’s still quiet.

I glare at my brother. “Charlie,” I snap. “Don’t make me call Beckett. He told me he’d come home immediately if I text an SOS.”

It wakes Charlie, and he finally looks at Scarlett. “Rain check?”

She grins, giddy. “Definitely. You still have my number?”

He nods.

I barely relax as he guides her back into the living room, then shows her out the back door. Most likely because the front has a doorbell camera that our parents have access to. I follow just to make sure Scarlett leaves and Charlie doesn’t sneak her behind a bush.

I wait inside.

Charlie is in view near the pool. He says something that makes her blush, and then she leaves. He watches, maybe ensuring she departs safely, and then I slide the door open for him as he comes inside.

Clapping resounds immediately from behind us.

Eliot and Tom.

Audrey joins in.

Charlie frowns. “Who are we applauding?”

“Jane, of course,” Eliot says. “She bested you.”

Did I?

I grin, feeling good that I was able to do this on my own. I extinguished a small ember that could have started a true fire. Now I don’t have to tell our parents that Charlie had a girl over. Dear God, that conversation would have murdered me.

Charlie shakes his head. “She didn’t best me. She played a cheat card.”

It feels like a sucker punch. “A cheat card?”

His eyes hit mine. “You brought up the one person you knew I’d cave for.”

“Beckett,” I say in realization.

“It’s a cheat,” he says.

I shake my head. “It’s life,” I tell him. “You love someone enough not to ruin their night with your actions. That’s a good thing.”

His jaw clenches, then his eyes flit to Eliot. “The only thing our sister is good at is cockblocking. Remember than when you get older.” He drops that bomb and heads back to the staircase.

Tom snickers.

Eliot covers Audrey’s ears, but it’s more for dramatic fashion since she surely already heard.

She looks at me with her innocent blue eyes. “Jane, what does cockblocking mean?”

Tom laughs harder.

Eliot says, “Ask Father when he gets home.”

I shoot Eliot a look. Of course, this would be another way for him to try and make our dad uncomfortable. It will most likely end with Audrey wishing she asked someone else. “Don’t listen to Eliot,” I tell her. “You should ask Mom.”

She nods strongly, and we return to the kitchen. Eliot and Tom grab slices of pizza, while Audrey and I busy ourselves with the cupcakes.

I let Audrey assist me in pouring the batter in the tins, and she says once more, “Greatest night ever.” She still believes it’s true.

I smile.

My phone buzzes.

It’s a notification from the front doorbell camera. Mom gave me access to it tonight. We once all had access until Eliot and Tom started abusing the speaker to scare Ben and Audrey every time they came home. They’d make scary voices. Sometimes play the Halloween theme song.

From the live video footage, I see Ben walking up the front stoop with a gym bag.

He’s home. That means Beckett is the only one that’s still MIA, but since we’ve spoken tonight, I’m not as worried about him. Invoking his name might have helped tonight, but I still defused the situation with Charlie on my own. It feels like I’m carrying a metaphorical fire extinguisher, ready to douse any sibling squabbles as they arise.

I can do this without help.

No partner in crime.

No teammate.

I, Jane Eleanor Cobalt, have this under control.

I’m finally starting to believe it.

Thanks so much for reading this month's main bonus scene! We had a blast going back into the past for this one. We had been writing a bonus for the new edition in Some Kind of Perfect that was very "Cobalt-centric" in Rose's POV. We loved it so much that we were a bit bummed readers would have to wait until March to get it, so we decided to pick up around the same timeline and write a Cobalt fam bonus for Patreon. It worked out so well because we're so in love with this one!

There's one more bonus coming this month. So keep on the lookout!

xoxo Krista & Becca

"Babysitting Duties" Copyright © 2023 by K.B. Ritchie