Page 13 of The Dragon’s Accidental Manny

The children shared a glance, and Bea picked up the violin. But my ears had been assaulted enough and I made an executive decision.

“Everyone up. We’re going to play pickleball.”

The kids put on the jackets they often wore when they went outside, saying it was cold today. It wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to argue the temperature with three children.

Isla hit the court as soon as she got her sneakers on. This was no longer the same girl who spent hours bent over a sketchpad.

“This was Papa’s court.” She handed me a paddle and I almost bowed because it felt like such a privilege, as if I was being knighted. “He was going to teach me how to play, but he couldn’t.” She shrugged.

So there was a papa who was part of this family’s story. I’d only been working for the family for a short time, so perhaps Price would fill me in when we got to know one another better.

Isla grinned. “So I taught myself by watching videos online, and I’m really good.”

I learned very quickly that I was worse at playing pickleball than Bea was at the violin. Isla showed no mercy as she corrected my grip and beat me while telling me I had footwork issues. Jack was supposed to be on my team, but he just ran around in circles.

Bea sat in a lawn chair, holding her tablet, and narrated, “The older male shows no skill for pickleball.”

“Thank you, Bea.” I waved my paddle at her.

“The smaller male is not paying attention.” Bea wasn’t letting up.

“That’s you, Jack," Isla pointed out again, as she had earlier.

“What? No, I am Jack. Is that like a letter?”

“Don’t worry, buddy.” I hugged him, and his skin was hot against my cheek, just like his sisters’.

For an hour as I was outplayed by a seven-year-old, Jack chased butterflies and Bea describing my failures, I sweated, panted, and groaned. But it was fun, and I was happy. Happy to be here and with these three children.

When we were done, Isla raced for the hose and splashed me and Jack. Bea put her tablet inside its case and ran to join us. The four of us danced under the water, laughing, as the game had left us all overheated, until the kids began shivering and complaining about the cold. Even mild temperatures chilled them.

After getting changed, we collapsed in the playroom, and Isla showed me the dragon she was always drawing, the one whose spikes she couldn’t get right. She was a skilled artist, and I wanted to encourage her.

“The spikes are fighting one another because you’re drawing them all the same size.” I tapped one of them. “Real things taper, so they’re bigger at the base and smaller toward the tip.” I grabbed a piece of paper and roughed it out for her. “And you’re pressing too hard on the far ones. Things farther away go softer and lighter.”

She took the pencil back and tried it. The dragon looked much more real, and we both stared at it.

“You’re the first person who told me how to do it. Everyone else says it’s nice.”

“There’s a difference between nice and good, and that is good.”

She glanced up at me and moved a little closer so our shoulders were touching and kept drawing. She had a great imagination, and I pictured her after she left school illustrating book covers or comic books.

When Price's car pulled into the estate, the kids were fed and in their PJs. We’d decided getting under the hose was a replacement for the shower, just for today. The children had spent the whole day letting me in, slowly, never overstepping, just embracing being with one another.

“How was today?”

Price’s voice drifted over me, and I wished I could catch it and keep it close.

“We had a great time.” I turned around, ready to ask him about his day, but one look at his face and I decided not to. He’d been fighting a battle with that blue and had lost.

I didn’t mention what had happened in the playroom where I might or could have seen something. He was the person I wanted to tell everything to, but I decided to keep this to myself for now.

SEVEN

CAM

After a few weeks as a manny, I caught myself calling this house and the people who lived within its walls home and family.