“Come on now you two, time to get out and put the pool toys away.” called out Mrs. James from the relative safety of a deck chair, well beyond the splashing and kicking. “Your father will be home soon.” She didn’t like going in the pool when the girls were in there; she feared inundation. With so much water surging about, more like a water park than a sensible lap pool, the children liked so much having it just to themselves, as they did today. 
“Oh please Mrs. James, just a few more minutes.” came the inevitable request. Wise mother that she had become in the past, she built in a little extra time at the outset, anticipating the request. Clever children that they were, they knew that she did this. There were indeed a few more minutes to be eked out in the water but it was never quite as much fun after that first call.
Poppy and Pansy Mendel were the eight and three-quarter year old daughters of one Greg Mendel, a POP’s resident, professional sports coach, and divorced father of two. Desperate to find care for his twins, by divorce decree in his custody nearly half the time, and that time rarely coinciding with his own free time, he had spotted Mrs. James alone in the lobby one day and quickly wondered if she might be the answer to his prayers, such as they were. He was aware of a teenage girl living in the building but he knew he needed someone more reliable. Soon after, he had taken aside the trusty Gervase and asked his opinion.
“Mrs. James?” Gervase chuckled. “Mrs. James is a real lady.” Always tempted to ask why he was asked something, as concierge he had learned to never ask, never. He waited. Sometimes there was an ensuing explanation, frequently not.
“Casting around for a sitter for the girls is all.” came the reply. “Can you tell me anything about her? I see her sitting down here a lot. I mean, you are often here too. She seems to have free time.”
“Oh,” said Gervase, “you’re wondering if she might be interested or be suitable?”
“That’s it, yes.”
“Well Mr. Mendel, you must know that she is association secretary?”
“Come to think of it, maybe I did know that. Never get to the meetings much. But about her personally?”
“As I understand it, Mr. & Mrs. James sold their house in a nearby suburb, where they raised their family, and bought a unit here but Mrs. James was recently widowed. Her adult sons live out of town.” This much was common knowledge so Gervase felt free to speak. “She does often spend time in other parts of the building; in the lobby, the solarium, and the pool. She says she likes to meet and talk to the other residents.”
“Is she, I mean, how do I put this…is a she a gossipy, busybody type? I wouldn’t want anybody yakking about me.”
“She’s interested in people for sure. Never heard her say anything gossipy.” Gervase had a keen ear for gossip himself. He wondered what it was about Mendel that might be worth repeating.
When Greg Mendel did approach her, Mrs. James was dubious at first, having only raised boys, not girls, and that some time ago. However, two of her sons were twins. When she confided that to him, for him it sealed the deal. Mendel was so appreciative of her experience, so hopeful that she would prove the perfect caregiver, that she agreed to a trial period. Her compensation for being available on weekends would cover her monthly fees, surely a widow’s boon.
She preferred, whenever possible, to have the girls into her own unit, rather than their own, as it was more likely that they would be on their best behavior. Not surprisingly, they were not content to sit still unless in front of the TV. Her own computer was not up to their standards and they spent little time on it when they were with her. She was very pleased then when they showed some curiosity about her and what she was doing. Child-like curiosity opens many doors.
“Mullins is soo cute and soo warm in the sunshine. Daddy says we can’t have any pets here.” Poppy grumbled, sprawling beside the cat on the sun-splashed floor. “He says he’s away too much. It’s not fair to us. Gervase could take care of it when Daddy isn’t here.”
“Perhaps then we should say that it wouldn’t be fair to the pet or to Gervase either.” reproved Mrs. James. “You have Mullins when you are here.” ‘Or should I say that Mullins has you.’ she said to herself, knowing the children were not yet attuned to the true nature of the cat-human relationship.
“Gervase only helps people with their pets; it’s not his job to mind them all the time. He is not running a menagerie here.” She made a mental note to ask Gervase at some point if he sometimes thought he was actually running one, animal or human, as concierge of a condominium development. “It’s something for you to look forward to, keeping a pet, when you are older.”
“What’s a ‘meangery’?” queried the girl. She asked Mrs. James a lot about words because Mrs. James always just told her what she wanted to know, not like her meanest mother ever who always told her to go look it up herself. “‘Men-aj-urry.’” First came the pronunciation and then the definition, in the now accustomed and gratifying way. “It’s a collection of animals, usually in a show.”
“I wish I was already old.” commented Poppy, rolling over. “There’s so much stuff we can’t do now. So boring.”
“You wish you were already older?” corrected Mrs. James. “Why?” she asked, instantly regretting the question.
“Here, at Daddy’s, it’s boring. No friends. No pets. No yard. Nothing to do.”
“When I came here, I had no friends either, except for Mullins. You can’t make new friends just sitting around inside having a moan. Have you ever had a friend who wasn’t the same age as you, eight and three-quarters?” she was careful to add, mindful of the importance of these age distinctions.
“Some of our friends are nine already. Wonder where we’ll have our birthday party this year?” she wondered aloud.
Quickly changing the subject, Mrs. James continued “Would you like to meet some new people here in the building? I could introduce you to several people, interesting people too. I suppose you don’t know anyone but Gervase or your father.”
“We know our other baby-sitter, Lee, and Miss Doyle, Daddy’s yucky girlfriend.” she reported. “And Gervase, but everyone knows Gervase, don’t they? And he knows everyone here.” Suddenly thoughtful, she asked, “Who else is interesting here? Daddy’s not, not when he’s here with us.”
“Mr. Arbuthnot. I could introduce you to him. He’s comes to have tea with me sometimes. He knows lots of amusing games to play. Perhaps you could ask him to teach you some of those.”
“What kind of games?” Pansy, walking into the living room, wanted to know.