Dear Reader,

 If you have enjoyed my tales of child “dis-care”, I thank you. And, if you are curious about what happened after my adventure babysitting The Crimson Defender’s daughter – what happened next was this.

 After seeing the notifications stating that Scarlett and I were both paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars each for babysitting the billionaire superhero’s daughter– every honest bone in my body demanded that I call The Crimson Defender and protest.

 “Hello?”

 “Mr. Masters, you paid us too much,” I force out as quickly as I can, scarcely pausing to breathe. “It’s WAY too much.”

 “Hold on. Pause. Was there something wrong with the payment?” he asked. “Was it not enough?”

 After a good twenty, maybe thirty minutes of arguing, pleading (by me), and begging (also by me) – the Crimson Defender refused to take back the money. In fact, he paid me an additional twenty thousand more. We worked hard, and he always paid his employees well.

 “And besides,” he said. “The Strongman is a notorious cheapskate. I gotta out do him.”

 After that, and the promised vacation to Florida I took with Scarlett, we set up shop as the first, and only babysitting agency in the tristate area that catered to the supers.

 Like all small businesses, we started small with the occasional babysitting job from Artemis and Captain Strong, followed up by more babysitting jobs from the Crimson Defender. Soon, we were babysitting for heroes like Wave Runner, Swamp Man, and some guy named Steve. (From what I’ve heard from other league members, no one knew what Steve did in the league, but he was invaluable.)

 Under the advisement of Jeff, my cousin, and my accountant, we set up shop in a small shop situated between a craft store and a thrift shop, and directly across the street from a pastry shop. Needless to say, Scarlett and I were in heaven.

___

 “Madrigal called,” said Doreen, receptionist, baker, and an absolute angel. “Echo is going into labor. They need a babysitter.”

 Scarlett paused her videogame. “I got it! Maddie Gal always has the best snacks.” She looked over at our newest hire, knitting enthusiast, Kevin Landry. “Come on, Kevin. You are with me.”

 Kevin stabbed his knitting needles into a ball of rainbow-colored yarn. He sighed. “Alright.”

 He shuffled out of the office after Scarlett. If I knew Scarlett, they’d be stopping off to get smoothies and jerk chicken before they arrived at the babysitting job.

 “Anything else on the docket?” I ask Doreen, shuffling lazily through files. It was spring cleaning season, and I was also eager to avoid Doreen’s endless list of chores. The woman was a strict task manager when it came to cleaning.

 Doreen sighed. She knew us well. She handed me a scrap a paper. “Gaia called for assistance.”

 “Thank you!”

___

 I got off the bus at the stop nearest Gaia’s house and started off on the long hike to the nature superhero’s house. Gaia could control plants. She had given up superhero work several years ago in favor of running a free garden for the city. Rumor had it, Gaia had decided to resume hero work after the tragic death of her husband a year prior.

 I knocked on the front door.

“Come in!” called Gaia. A vine slithered around the doorframe and wrapped around the knob.

Her house smelled like wildflowers, berries, and freshly baked bread. I could feel myself salivating as I walked deeper into the house.

“Hello!” greeted Gaia. Tiny bluebirds fluttered around her head as she walked. “You must be Clary. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I smiled up at the tall, Amazonian woman. I felt like a little kid standing in front of their teacher. “All good things I hope.”

“You come highly recommended.” I followed the hero into the kitchen. She handed me a freshly baked roll. “There is something I need to tell you about my kids,” Gaia said softly.

“What is it?” I reply. “Your file says you have three kids? Two girls and a boy.”

“That’s right.” The tea kettle began to whistle. “The twins are fine. Jasper and Violet are still young enough that their powers are still developing. It’s Coral, I’m worried about.” 

I stuffed part of the roll into my mouth. “How so?”

“She’s sixteen. Her powers are still in flux,” Gaia explained with quotation marks around the last word. “While Coral is old enough to babysit, it’s a full moon.”

In the age of fine internet literature, the first thing that came to mind was not the three years of astronomy classes I had taken over the years – it was werewolf fiction: hot, steamy werewolf fiction.

“Why? Is she a werewolf?” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“No,” she chuckled. “How familiar are you with aquatic-based abilities?”

“Mom!” screamed an angry teenager storming the kitchen. A literal dark cloud hung over her head. “I am sixteen! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Cora Terradottir. She, and she alone, is the sole reason why teenagers should be feared and respected. The teenage super looked like every perfect-style Goth kid from every teen, coming-of-age movie ever. Even her winged eyeliner was flawless. Needless to say, I’m jealous.

“Cora, baby, we’ve talked about this. It’s a full moon, and you haven’t learned how to control your shifting yet,” Gaia said, calmly.

“Ugh! Mom!” Cora turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. “I’m not a baby anymore!”

Gaia gave me a sympathetic smile. “It looks like it is going to be a rough night. Maybe we should just cancel.”

“No. No. No,” I protest. “You deserve a night out to do... whatever it is you were planning on doing tonight. I can handle it.” 

“Really?”

“Really. Really.”