Nana’s Babysitting Blues
written by: Lynn Nicholas
“What on earth?” Tea sloshed into Carolyn’s saucer.
Five-year-old Timothy peeked out from under the heavy tablecloth and clambered onto a dining room chair, waving a book. “I have a book too. It’s about a little blue truck.”
Eyebrow raised, Arlene squinted at Carolyn.
Carolyn compressed her lips. Arlene was not very tolerant of children. She slid the cookie tray closer to her book club friend and lifted her grandson off the chair.
“Timothy, how about going back into the living room to play? I put your new blue ball in there.” Carolyn nudged the little boy away from the dining table and her book club meeting.
“Sorry, ladies. Timothy’s play date fell through, and my daughter-in-law let him stay with me today for the first time.” Her smile twisted into a grimace. “Becoming a first-time grandmother in my seventies is challenging enough, and now I’m struggling to win Akari’s trust. Evidently, I raised her husband without enough structure.” Carolyn raised her teacup in a sardonic toast.
“Is she worried that an ex hippie can’t toe the conservative parent line?” JoAnne stirred milk into the strong English tea.
Carolyn raised her eyes to heaven before taking a thoughtful breath. “Yup. That might just be it. I’m truly trying to be patient and understand her thinking.” Carolyn adjusted her position to shift weight off her bad hip. “Here’s the thing. Tony’s company just relocated here from Japan, and Akari is struggling to adjust. She’s very protective of her son in this new environment. When he’s here, she worries about everything from what TV programs I might have on to what’s in my fridge.” Carolyn sighed. “I get it. I really do. But, if I can’t gain her trust, she won’t allow me to have unsupervised visits with my grandson.”
Arlene flipped open her book. “Must be difficult, but getting back to our book discussion; I absolutely love the way this author….”
Carolyn willed herself to relax into the cadence of the conversation. She crossed her legs and massaged her aching hip. The kids were running late, which surprised her since Akari had been uncomfortable with ‘strangers’ being in the house. Carolyn suppressed a smile. Better not share that little tidbit with her friends.
“What the—?” Something bounced off Carolyn’s ankle. Timothy bounded after the escaped blue ball.
“Timothy, dear,” Arlene shot Carolyn a pay-attention look, “why don’t you take that runaway ball and your book out to the front porch. There’s a good boy.”
“Go on, Timothy,” Carolyn said, telling herself he would be fine until the meeting was over. She’d raised his dad in this neighborhood. It was safe. And Tony’s free-range childhood not only didn’t hurt him, it contributed to his social skills and confidence.
***
Timothy sat against the screen door and opened his book: The Little Blue Truck. He bounced the blue ball off a wooden pillar, counting passing cars between bounces. “One, white; two, white; three, red; four, blue!”
A shiny blue truck pulled along the curb across the street. The driver opened the door and sat sideways, his boots on the running board. His baseball cap was pulled low. Timothy waved his book at the man with the big, blonde mustache.
The man waved back.
“I have a book about a blue truck, and I have a new blue ball,” Timothy shouted.
Timothy tossed the ball as high as he could. It bounced off the porch ceiling and rolled down the walkway, into the street. Book tucked under one arm, Timothy ran after the ball. The truck man stopped it with his boot. Timothy held out his hand.
“Didn’t your Ma never tell you ‘bout running into the street?” The man had a rough voice, like a TV cowboy. He held the ball up high.
“Nana would be mad if my new ball got run over.” Timothy glanced over his shoulder. Was that Nana at the window? “Give it back, please.”
The man tossed the ball into the bed of his pickup. “First, show me your book. Can you tell me the story?”
A rough hand grabbed his. The man was skinny, but his grip was strong. Timothy squirmed and sank his butt backwards. “Let go! Let go!”
“Timothy! Get away from that man!”
Timothy stared. Nana wobbled when she ran.
Timothy wrenched free from the man’s hold. The book flew out of his grasp, skidding across the pavement. He slid after it, hands and knees burning. Just as his fingertips met the cover, Nana was beside him, on her knees. Tears ran down her face.
Brakes squealed. Two car doors slammed.
“My baby boy.” “I’m so sorry.” “Why is Timothy in the street?” “Weren’t you watching him?” The adults’ voices blended into noisy babble.
Timothy’s feet left the ground. Mommy was holding him too tightly. He peeped over Mommy’s shoulder and saw tail lights flash as the blue truck careened around the corner. His new blue ball bounced out of the truck bed and rolled into the dirty gutter. Nana would be mad.
- Nana’s Babysitting Blues - April 14, 2026
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