My father’s wife, Kristen

A car pulls into the driveway as I’m catching my breath and I hear some come out of it. A pair of footsteps approaches me and a female voice asks, “Did you just walk up that whole hill?” I nod in an effort to confirm that I did the ascension without any assistance. The footsteps come alongside me and the woman helps me up the walkway to the front door. After she unlocks, she lets me into the comfort of air conditioning. “Let me get you some water.”

I open the water bottle she hands me and I take a good gulp of the clear liquid, letting it refresh me. When I look up, there is this woman who looks young. Did my father hook up with a woman years younger than he is? If I could guess, she is in her mid-thirties, though her stunning appearance makes me believe she could pass as younger than that.

“Say. You aren’t here for the ad for a babysitter, are you?” the woman says. Without saying anything, I nod nervously. My response seems to have brightened her day, as it also does for her facial features. “That’s a relief. Most people who call or come to the house are all old ladies. I had to turn down all of them. My husband and I were specifically looking for someone younger who has the energy to contend with that of a young child. I can already tell that you look the part and believe that you have what it takes to suit our needs. Oh, by the way, I’m Kristen.”

“Charlene,” I tell her my name and we formally shake hands with each other.

She proceeds to give me a tour of the house, which is a one-story house that had been renovated in the past year before they bought it. While the front yard is mostly decorative, the backyard has a modern pool and deck and a medium patch of grass for their dog. From the tour, I fail to find the room where the child is staying at, which gives me suspicions whether they are looking for a babysitter or something else.

Once we return to the kitchen, I state the obvious and ask her the most pressing question. “Miss Kristen. I noticed there wasn’t any room fit for a child during your tour of the house. Is there something you aren’t telling me?”