Losing Grip

Chapter 22➷ I Always Considered Inigo the Main Character

"How do you feel about babysitting?"

That's the only thing I heard when I picked up the phone, early Saturday morning. No greeting. No context.

"Come again?"

I had been reading for quite a while already but I was exhausted and my bones refused to embrace their designed functions at the early hour.

The number was unfamiliar but I recognized Matthew's cheery voice on the other end.

"Are you busy?" he asked as if he couldn't picture me doing anything important on a Saturday.

"As usual."

I placed the book back onto the nightstand and went over my plans for the day in my mind, offended that he would think that I had nothing to do. I sighed when I realized that I couldn't come up with anything.

"Really? Did I dial the wrong number?" A low chuckle followed the question and I wished he could have seen the scowl on my face.

"Is there a purpose to this call, Matthew?" I tried to put in as much venom as I could in his name but either I didn't succeed or he couldn't care less.

"That's what I started with. Are you paying attention? Babysitting. Do you like children?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, against my better judgment. Ignoring him altogether was probably a better option.

I reluctantly got out of bed and paced around the room. Today, more than usual, I could feel the disconcerting emptiness of the space Riley was supposed to occupy.

As we neared the anniversary of her death, it was getting increasingly difficult to detect any sign that she had ever lived here. The liveliness and colors that followed her wherever she went were wiped off and blandness now veiled the walls, a painful reminder of her absence.

"Well, I may need your help with something," Matthew said after a while.

If I didn't know him, maybe I would have missed the hesitation in his voice.

"Me?"

The other side of the line went quiet and I pictured him rolling his eyes.

"I mean, with what? How can I help you?" I asked, trying not to feel too flattered that he would ask me, out of everyone, for help.

"I need you to keep an eye on my brother while I take care of a few other things."

"You have a brother?"

Maybe it wasn't as shocking as it then appeared to me. Matthew and I weren't the closest anyway and he was always so secretive.

"Yes," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Unless you'd rather babysit my fictional brother instead." He paused and waited for a reaction to his snarky comment that never came. "I just didn't know who else to call. Avan is unreachable on weekends, and the boys are all in basketball practice for semi-finals. So, I thought of you. Listen, you can say no."

As if he didn't know that it was impossible to say no to him.

"Of course. Just tell me what to do."

"Well, I was thinking you could take him to the park or something. I can drop him there. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'll meet you there," I said and tossed the phone onto my bed when he hung up.

I changed from my pajamas into more presentable clothes. I jogged down the stairs and grabbed an apple from Dad's precious fruit basket. Dad's car wasn't in the driveway so I figured he was off to work already.