“Coffee?”
She’s not holding any mugs, though.
“Are they invisible?”
She chuckles. “No. I left them on the table outside just in case you didn’t want them.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Go ahead. Bring them in.”
She leaves the room and returns with two mugs, placing one on my desk.
“It’s the usual,” she says.
“Please sit.” I gesture toward the chair. “Come to think of it, we didn’t get to finish our coffee the other day.”
“You’re right,” Sabrina agrees. “The past two days have been quite chaotic.”
I pick up my mug and take a sip. “Well, if this is your apology, then apology accepted.”
She smiles.
“Is that all you’re worried about?” I ask her, setting down my mug.
“Well…” She sets down her mug, too. “I was wondering if you had some free time today.”
“I think I have some after lunch. Why?”
“You see, David told me about his third challenge.”
“I hope this one’s not disgusting,” I say.
“No, it’s not, but it’s a bit difficult. He wants me to beat him at a video game.”
“A video game?” I look at her in surprise.
“Yes. He said girls usually suck at video games so I should prove we’re not by beating him. After that, the deal’s done and we can just get along.”
I lift my mug again. “So, what’s the problem?”
“I’ve never played video games. We didn’t have an Xbox or a PlayStation or a Wii or any of those.”
We? So she did have a family. At least she grew up with someone.
“I don’t know the first thing about playing video games.”
I nod. “I see the problem.”
“Luckily, we aren’t playing until Friday night because he can’t play video games on weeknights. Even so, I need to practice and if I’m going to practice, I have to learn first. And I was wondering if you could help me with that. You know, just teach me the basics.”
“The basics?”
“He didn’t tell me what video game we were going to play but I should be fine if I just know, like, what keys to press or get a feel for the controller. Or maybe we can go through all the games in his collection if there aren’t that many. But we won’t play them all.” She waves her hands. “Just like check them out.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You want me to play some video games with you?”
“Yup. That’s it. If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”
I want to say yes in a heartbeat. My mind is screaming it. But the thing is I don’t know much about video games myself. Like Gil said, I’m no good with modern technology unless it’s incorporated into gym equipment. I’m especially bad with modern gadgets, including game consoles.
“Do you mind?” Sabrina asks, looking at me hopefully as she holds her mug in both hands.
Oh, what the heck. At least, I have played a video game before. Once with David. We could learn together.
“Sure. We can have a go at it after lunch.”
Back to Childhood
Sabrina
How on Earth do people play these things?
I ask myself the question as I sit on a bean bag in the den, a controller in my hand.
For the past hour, I’ve been shooting at zombies coming at me from all directions. I keep dying, though, getting devoured by them. Right now, I’m at Wave 5 and I’m down to just one life, which means I’m close to Game Over. Again.
“Ugh.” I press the buttons. “I hate zombies.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Zombie’s ears perk up.
“Not you, Zombie,” I tell him. “I know you don’t eat brains.”
I’m not the only one who’s struggling, though. Randall, who’s sitting behind me on the couch, seems to be doing even worse, judging from the grunts and curses he’s been giving.
“I give up,” he says finally, putting his controller on the table as the words ‘Game Over’ appear in red on his side of the screen.
I stay alive for just a few seconds more before dying, the same words flashing on my side of the screen.
“I guess we’re both not cut out for this, huh?” I put my controller beside his.
“You can say that again.” He sighs. “I thought video games were supposed to be fun but this one’s damn hard. How does David play this for hours?”
I give him a puzzled look. “If you didn’t like video games, why did you agree to play with me?”
He shrugs. “I thought it would be fun.”
In spite of myself, I blush, looking away.
“Well, clearly, it isn’t. You’re getting frustrated and I’m getting frustrated.” I sigh. “If only I had stuff like this growing up.”
“What did you have?” Randall asks.
“Trees. Chickens. Pigs.”
“You grew up on a farm?”
Oops. Did I say too much?
“Yeah, pretty much,” I confess since I can’t take my words back.
“With your parents or grandparents?” Randall asks.
Why is he being so inquisitive all of a sudden?
“Parents,” I tell him, shifting my legs.
“But they’re gone now?”
“Yup. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m just curious about how you were, your childhood.”
“It was simple but still fun,” I say as I fidget with my hands, remembering. “We didn’t have all this technology but I was never bored. Even when I was just sitting up in a tree, I was having fun.”
“Yeah. Kids get bored so easily now.”
“How about you?” I ask him. “How was your childhood?”
“Okay, I guess. My parents liked to travel. A lot. And they liked hosting parties, too.”
I glance at him. “Well, that’s what rich couples do, don’t they?”
“I liked the trips but I hated the parties. I’d sneak out of them and just play in my room or watch TV.”
“I’d do the same.”
“I still don’t like parties that much but I have to go to one every now and then. It’s part of my job.”
“Going to parties as part of your job.” I nod. “It can’t be that hard.”
He snorts. “That’s because you’ve never been to these parties.”
“I thought all parties were the same. You talk. You drink. You dance. Not necessarily in that order. And you try to find out some drunk person’s secrets.”
“You left out the making out.”
For some reason, I blush, imagining Randall making out with someone at a party, just like those couples at Vince’s party. Of course, he probably does that. He’s single, after all. A lot of women must go after him. There’s no question about that.
The question is: Why am I jealous?
“Have you gone to a lot of parties?” Randall asks.
“Not really. The music is usually bad.”
“So, you like music?”
Shit. I’ve said too much again.
“A bit,” I say.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Uh-oh. “You’re already asking me one.”
“I’d like to ask another, something I should have asked before you started working.”
Now, I’m curious. “What?”
“Why did you decide to become a nanny?”
Oh, that. And here I thought he was going to ask if I had a boyfriend or if I was a virgin.
Still, the question isn’t so simple nor can I give a simple answer, mainly because I didn’t decide to become a nanny. What do I say?
“Well, I’ve been trying a bunch of stuff, and I thought I’d give this a try.”