Perfectly Unpredictable (11 page)

She headed to the family room and kitchen
and saw the empty bottle on the counter. She grinned. Wherever they were, Mani
had a full tummy. Chances were Mack had taken Mani over to his place. She turned
toward the back door and saw them in the backyard through the window.

Mack sat comfortably on the grass near the
garden chatting with Annie and absently intercepting Mani when he put something
toward his mouth. Joey had his head close to Mani’s, gesturing to him, as they
played side-by-side, digging and scooping the dirt.

She hadn’t needed to rush back.

They made a cozy picture. Not sure digging
in the dirt would have been her first choice of pastime, but she had to admit
Mani looked pretty content. So did Mack. Who’d have thought? Add chatting to
children and babysitting babies under a year of age to his list of talents. And
that was just as appealing as his beautiful smile and hot bod. Her chest
swelled. She’d have to repay his kindness.

Mani grinned up at Joey. He’s enjoying the
playtime with other kids, she thought with a pang. She’d have to start sharing
him. He needed the company of other kids as much as she needed the company of
other adults. She sighed. One more milestone.

She stepped into the backyard, almost sorry
to interrupt them.

Annie jumped up and ran to hug Kalia. “Hi,
Kalia. We’re playing with Mani.”

“Hi, Annie. I see that. It looks like he’s
having fun.”

Joey looked up and wrinkled his nose at
Kalia. “Mani stinks. He has a poopy diaper.”

Kalia laughed. “Uh-oh. I guess I better
change him then.” She looked at Mack. “How’d it go?”

“Good. He slept until a few minutes ago. Then
he guzzled down the bottle, and we came outside to play.”

“Annie? Joey?” Teresa called out from
across the yard.

Kalia turned toward the sound of her voice.
“They’re here, Teresa.”

“Oh, hi Kalia. I hope they’re not bothering
you?”

“No, not at all. Mani loves their company.”

Teresa smiled as she walked a little closer.
“And they enjoy his. Come on kids. It’s time to get changed if you want to go
swimming.” She looked at Kalia. “I promised I’d take them to the pool before
dinner.”

Annie and Joey jumped up with a whoop and
ran across the yard.

Teresa waved good-bye as she shooed them
inside.

Kalia waved back and turned to Mack. “They
never move slowly,” she said, shaking her head. “Thanks again, Mack. I really
appreciate you watching Mani for me.”

Mack shrugged. “I enjoyed it. How did it go
at the hospital?” he asked as he stood up.

Kalia reached down to pick up Mani. “Really
well. The patient was very relieved to have someone there to interpret for him.
He knew some English, phrases to get by when he’s traveling, but the medical
jargon was a bit too complicated. He seemed a lot less anxious once he
understood what was happening.” They walked together toward Kalia’s deck.

“I’m sure they appreciated your help,” Mack
said.

“I think so. Both the surgeon and the
patient. I really like Dr. Hayes. I’ve been called in a few times to help her.
I was disappointed to hear that she’s finished her residency and she’s moving
up north to a small town.”

“Onto bigger and better things?”

“I suppose. Or smaller and better,” she
said with a grin. “Anyhow, it felt good to get involved and help out, so thanks
again.”

“Anytime. Mani’s a great kid.” He picked up
the guitar that he’d left on one of the deck chairs.

“Thanks.” She kissed the top of Mani’s
head. “Whew, you do stink, little one.”

Mack backed up with his hands in the air. “Beyond
my scope . . .”

Kalia laughed again. “It’s good to recognize
when you’re in over your head.”

Mack smiled over his shoulder and waved as
he headed home.

The days flew by, and Kalia watched Mani
skip through milestones. She started looking into daycare with a heavy heart.

At seven months old, he seemed so little,
was still being breastfed. All the germs he’d be exposed to. Would she find
adequate supervision? He was so fast when he crawled. She’d need to find someone
who would watch him like a hawk in a safe, baby-friendly environment.

She knew in her heart it would be good for
him to play with other children. Or, at least, parallel play with other
children, in the same room. And when she worked, she needed to focus. Now that
Mani was seven months, watching him with one eye wasn’t enough.

So she put the ball in motion and luckily
started early. A two-year waiting list? Who’d have thought? By the time she got
him into daycare, he’d have outgrown it.

The Internet was a wealth of information
about daycare. Questions to ask, things to look out for. For a neurotic parent,
it was great.

She narrowed down her list of acceptable
daycares to four. She tried the patience of one with all of her questions, so
she struck them off the list. If they couldn’t be bothered to reassure her
about the details, they weren’t meticulous enough for her.

The parents at the playground weren’t
wildly enthusiastic about another place, so it was axed too.

That left two – Bay Window
Childcare and Rattle My Cage. Kalia called two references for each and got a
stamp of approval.

The next step was to go and see them in
action, so she made appointments to visit.

Two weeks later, she changed Mani and
pulled a long-sleeved shirt over his head. “Well, sweetheart, today we’re going
to visit Bay Window Childcare.” She slipped a pair of pants over his diaper and
wrestled with socks and soft running shoes. “We’ll see if they have toys to
play with and space to run. See if we like the vibe.”

With Mani on one hip, she went downstairs
and found his winter coat. They’d had a mild winter so far, but the
temperatures had dropped below freezing in the last few days. She zipped up
Mani’s jacket and tugged a hat over his ears. She tossed his mittens and scarf
in the diaper bag. They’d be off before she had her coat on, and since they
weren’t going to be outside for long, she’d just take them with her. She
secured Mani in his car seat, and after putting on her winter coat, she shrugged
the diaper bag over her shoulder, grabbed the car keys, and carried him out to
the car.

Bay Window Childcare was a convenient ten-minute
drive away. It was a low red-brick building on a busy street with plenty of parking
off to one side. Beyond the front doors, a huge bay window gave a sunny view to
a colorful play area.

Kalia lifted Mani out of his car seat and
made her way to the entrance. They stepped into a small waiting area.

“Welcome,” the receptionist said behind a
wall of glass. She adjusted her glasses and looked at them without smiling.

“Hi. I’m Kalia Beck, and this is my son,
Mani. We have an appointment with Shelley Thompson.”

“Have a seat. I’ll let Ms. Thompson know
you’re here.”

Kalia sat down with Mani on her lap and
took off his winter jacket. He plucked off his winter hat and started to wiggle
and squirm.

The door opened with a buzz and a tall,
thin woman, her gray hair pulled back off her face in a bun, strode briskly
through the doorway. She wore a long brown skirt with sturdy shoes. “Hello. I’m
Shelley Thompson,” she said, holding out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Hi,” Kalia said, as she stood. “I’m Kalia
Beck.”

Ms. Thompson gave a thin smile. “Come this
way.” She nodded to the receptionist, who buzzed the door open.

Kalia followed, carrying Mani, a bit surprised
that Ms. Thompson didn’t acknowledge him. She shrugged it off and hurried to
keep up.

Shelley Thompson walked down the hall and stopped
at the first door. “I’ll show you around first, then we can sit and I can answer
any questions you may have. Can I take your coats?”

Kalia handed her their jackets, and Ms.
Thompson hung them on a hook. “This is our cloakroom. Each child has a hook and
cubby with their name on it. Communication between parents and staff occurs
daily, and the journals are kept in the cubby. Crafts to go home are kept here
as well. As you can see, the door is locked at all times, and the receptionist
must buzz parents in. That way we control who is coming and going. We encourage
older children to meet their parents in the waiting room, but obviously the
younger ones have their parents meet them here.

“Currently we have the equivalent of thirty
full-time children, six months to five years old, with six staff. You preferred
part-time for your son, if I recall?”

“Yes, that’s right. I was looking for two
days a week.”

Ms. Thompson nodded. “Yes, we could fit him
in.”

Fit him in, Kalia thought with a frown. Made
him sound like an afterthought.

Ms. Thompson moved on down the hall, so
Kalia quickly followed.

The woman stopped and opened a door on the right,
and they walked into the playroom that was visible through the bay window. It
was a colorful room with soft mats underfoot and a variety of toys. There were
big balls, ride-on toys, a child-sized workshop with tools, and a painting
easel tucked into the corner of the room. Everything looked clean and orderly. But
there were no children.

Mani squirmed in Kalia’s arms, so she let
him down to crawl.

Ms. Thompson followed Mani with her eyes as
she explained. “We use this room for two daily breaks for the children, each
half an hour long. It gives the children a chance to develop their large motor
skills and learn co-operative play.”

Mani crawled over to a ride-on toy, and Ms.
Thompson tensed and indicated they should move to the next room. Kalia scooped up
Mani, cuddling him close.

“The children are in the classroom right
now. We can poke our heads in briefly, but I don’t want to disturb them.”

She opened the door to a classroom, and
Kalia looked in. A dozen little heads, bent over their desks, printed out the
alphabet. Two others quietly put together a giant puzzle of the world on the
floor, and one little girl sat and poured rice into a jar.

Pretty studious, Kalia thought. “It’s very
quiet.”

“Yes.” Ms. Thompson beamed proudly. “Our
mission statement is to enrich the minds of our children through play. We take
that very seriously. By the time the children are old enough to attend
kindergarten, they are very well prepared in their fine motor skills and their
ability to read, print, and understand basic mathematical principles. We
introduce social issues and enrich our students with a global perspective.”

Kalia stared.
Seriously? They’re four years old. Where’s the play? Where’s the fun?

“Let’s continue this way, and I’ll show you
the area for the younger children.” They continued down the hall. “The children
are having a quiet time. Every morning and afternoon, the children have a quiet
recess break.”

They entered a room with the lights dimmed.
Three children were sprawled on the floor on mats. Two looked up when the door
opened. Three young women sat drinking coffee across the room.

Is the break for the children or the
adults? Kalia mused.

One woman with short blond hair, wide brown
eyes, and a welcoming smile walked over and looked at Mani. “Hello there. What’s
your name?” she asked quietly as she reached for his hand.

Mani peeked at her from under Kalia’s arm.

“This is Mani,” Kalia said.

“Hello, Mani. Welcome. Would you like to
come in and see our toys?”

Mani hugged Kalia closer and buried his face
in her shoulder. Kalia smiled and looked over at Ms. Thompson, who was frowning.
“We’re just taking a quick tour, but thank you.” Kalia looked around the room. A
child-sized table and three chairs sat off to the side. A shelf of toys, all
neatly stacked, and a shelf of books, artfully arranged, lined the walls. All
very neat and tidy. Not much like their house when Mani was playing, she
thought with a sigh.

“The program for the younger children is
structured with musical activities, reading time, and arts and crafts, and once
a week, weather permitting, the children are taken over to the park across the
street. And play time, of course,” Ms. Thompson added.

“Of course,” Kalia muttered, wondering when
the fun was scheduled.

The little children on the floor were
rolling and restless. Ms. Thompson gave them a stern look, and they stilled.

Kalia had seen enough. This wasn’t what she
wanted for Mani. She wanted play to be a priority. There was plenty of time in
his little life for structure and learning, but at this young age, she wanted
more fun and laughter to be involved. This was one serious daycare.

Ms. Thompson stepped back out into the
hallway. “We take a limited number of students each year. However, one of the
children will be graduating to the older group and a space will be available. We’ve
had two other enquiries, so if you’re interested, let us know right away. This
outlines our mission statement, policies, and fees.” She handed Kalia a
pamphlet.

“Thank you,” said Kalia, taking the leaflet.

“We can sit in my office if you have any other
questions.”

“Thank you, but I think I have all the
information I need. I can let you know when I make a decision.”

“Very well,” Ms. Thompson replied, with a
strained smile. “I’ll show you the way out.”

Not
very difficult
.
It’s
one hallway.
She followed Ms. Thompson down the corridor and collected
their jackets when they passed the cloakroom. Kalia waited while the
receptionist buzzed them out.

“Thanks again.” She scooted out the door, sat
in the reception area to fasten Mani’s coat, and then walked out into the fresh
air. She sighed loudly as she strapped Mani into his car seat and got behind
the wheel.

Really? Is that what daycare was all about?
Serious and structured, and pushing your child to grow up and get ahead? Is
that what she was supposed to want for Mani? Because she didn’t. And who did
arts and crafts with a child less than a year old? She felt slightly depressed.
Maybe she should. Reading and music she understood. But surely there was a lot
to be learned by letting a child explore and play. She hoped so.

Maybe the next day would be better. They’d
be visiting Rattle My Cage. She had driven by it and was startled to see the
front decorated like a cage with bars. Colorful children’s faces smiled out
between the bars, but still.

Maybe her expectations were too high. Maybe
it would have a higher fun factor. They’d find out.

She pulled into their driveway.

“Well, Mani,” she said as she carried him
inside. She unbuckled him and lifted him out. “Let’s go play.” Mani squealed
and clapped his hands.

The next morning, as she prepared to leave,
the phone rang.

“Hello. This is Jackie from Rattle My Cage Daycare.
I know you had an appointment to visit this morning, but one of the childcare workers
and two children are sick with a gastro infection. We’ve sent the children home,
and we’re closing so we can clean and disinfect.”

“Oh,” Kalia said. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Very. I want to reassure you that this
doesn’t happen very often. We have a protocol in place to deal with severe
infections, and part of that is to thoroughly disinfect. We’ll be back up to
snuff by tomorrow. Would you like to make arrangements to come next week
instead?”

“Yes, please.”

“One week from today? Would that work?”

“Yes.”

“See you then.”

Kalia hung up the phone. How often did
daycares make children sicker? Not a ringing endorsement for a daycare center,
but at least they were on top of it. Should she consider other options? No, she
was overreacting. She wouldn’t worry about that just yet.

One week later, Kalia sat in her car at the
side of the road. She banged the steering wheel in frustration. Okay, time to
worry.

She had been on her way to Rattle My Cage,
with Mani in the backseat, and had run out of gas. She shook her head. How did
that happen? She’d had a quarter of a tank the day before. The low fuel level
light had come on when she’d pulled out of the driveway. What kind of warning
light came on when the tank was already empty? she fumed.

She pulled out her cell phone and called
for roadside assistance. Half an hour. She peered at Mani in the rearview
mirror, hoping his good mood would last and the inside of the car wouldn’t get
too cold.

She also called Rattle My Cage to let them
know she would be delayed.

“It’s not a problem,” the cheerful voice
reassured her. “We have another parent coming. We’ll show them around, and you
can join us when you get here. Thanks for letting us know.”