Babysitting The Hockey's Star Niece For Christmas

Lauren stepped into her tiny apartment which she was lucky to have at 21 according to her mother.

She shrugged off the biting December wind. The faint reminder that Christmas would be here soon. She grimaced and kicked off her boots. Of course, she was not ready for it. She hated this time of year. Even her fortress of solitude wasn’t immune to the cheer-infected season. Every twinkling light, every saccharine carol, every fake "Merry Christmas" grin all hit like a sucker punch.

Her world had stopped spinning three years ago, but somehow, everyone else was still jingling all the way. She didn’t need any reminders of what she’d lost. The anniversary was just a weeks away, and the last thing she wanted was to pretend that holiday cheer was a thing.

Throwing her bag onto the couch, she peeled off her scarf and sank into her well-worn armchair. No tree. No lights. No stockings hung by the chimney with care—not that she had a chimney. This was her home, free of holiday nonsense. The anniversary was coming up. It always loomed like a storm cloud, dark and inevitable.

Her phone buzzed. She ignored it at first. Then it buzzed again. And again. And again.

Finally, she groaned, grabbing it off the table.

“Hey.”

“Lauren! How’s my girl?” Her mom’s voice practically sparkled through the line. “You’re home, right? Good. Listen, I need a huge favor.”

Lauren sighed. She already hated where this was going. “Mom, if this is about Christmas dinner, I am not coming as usual.”

“No, no, it’s not about that,” her mom interrupted, a little too quickly. “Well, kind of. But not really. Okay, hear me out. Margaret and I are going on a girls' trip.”

Lauren blinked. “Margaret? Like… Margaret, your best friend since forever?”

“Yes, Margaret. Look, her daughter, Sophie, needs someone to watch her while we’re gone.”

“Sophie? You mean the six-year-old?” Lauren leaned forward, her voice rising. “Mom, I don’t even like kids. I’ve never babysat in my life! I’m not exactly ‘good with kids.”

Her mom tsked. “Oh, come on, Lauren. Don’t be dramatic. You don’t have to be a kid whisperer. She’s six. Not a wild animal. She’s sweet. Just watch her for a few weeks, and I’ll owe you. Big time.”

Lauren pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why me? Doesn’t Margaret have, like, other family? Or a babysitter? Or something that isn’t me?”

“Well…” Her mom hesitated, which was never a good sign. “Her younger brother was supposed to do it, but something came up for him.”

“Convenient,” Lauren muttered.

“Please, Lauren. Margaret doesn’t trust just anyone with Sophie. And she’s been so stressed. She really needs this trip. It’s just for the holidays! You’re good with people when you want to be. And it’s not like you have plans for Christmas anyway. “Please, Lauren. I already told Margaret you’d do it.”

Lauren almost laughed at that. “Seriously? First of all, I’m not good with people. Second, Christmas is literally the worst time of the year for me and you are asking me to spend it with a child?”

Her mom’s tone softened. “I know it is, honey. I know. But maybe this will be good for you. A distraction.”

Lauren clenched her jaw. “Babysitting is not my idea of a distraction, Mom.”

“It’s not forever. Just a couple of weeks.” Her mom’s voice dipped into her ‘I’m begging you, don’t make me guilt-trip you’ tone. “Please, Lauren. For me? For Margaret?”

She groaned, pressing her forehead into her palm. She hated how her mom could pull this family first card. “Fine. But only because you’re my mom. And you owe me. Big time.”

“You’re the best!” her mom chirped.

“I didn’t say I’m happy about it.”

“You’ll love Sophie. She’s got a big personality, just like her Margaret, I think. You’re a lifesaver. Love you, bye!”

That was exactly what she needed a hyperactive kid with a big personality.

The line went dead before Lauren could argue. Lauren rolled her eyes. Great. 

The next afternoon, Lauren stood at Margaret’s front door, feeling like she’d signed up for a job she was woefully underqualified for.

The place looked like it had been dunked in holiday cheer: wreath on the door, fairy lights strung around the windows, and an inflatable snowman grinning at her from the lawn.

“I hate this already,” she muttered.

She put her luggage on the floor and rang the bell.

The door swung open almost immediately. A tiny blonde tornado launched itself at her legs.

“Are you Lauren? You’re Lauren!” Sophie beamed up at her with sparkling blue eyes, missing one of her front teeth. “Mom says you’re staying with me for Christmas. You don’t like Christmas, do you? That’s okay. I like Christmas enough for both of us! Wanna see my decorations?”

“Uh…” Lauren stared, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of words coming from such a small person. “Sure?”

Margaret appeared in the doorway, her arms spread wide. “Lauren, you’re a lifesaver!”

“I feel like I’ve been tricked,” Lauren muttered under her breath.

Margaret laughed, pulling Lauren into a quick hug. “Don’t let Sophie scare you off. She’s a handful but in the best way. You both will do great. You compliment each other.”

“I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.” Lauren glanced at Sophie, who was already dragging a stuffed reindeer through the living room like it was a war prize.

“You’ll be fine,” Margaret said with a wave of her hand. “And Larry’s room is off-limits. Not that he’s here, but, you know, in case Sophie gets curious or too excited.”

“Wait, Larry? Who’s Larry?”

Margaret blinked. “My brother? You know, Larry Johnson? The hockey player?”

Lauren’s stomach dropped. “That Larry? The arrogant, hotshot, self-absorbed hockey player everyone talks about? Your brother?”

Margaret smirked. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Sorry. It’s just… I’ve heard things.”

“Well, don’t worry. He’s not here. He’s busy with some personal stuff which I am worried about. Wait! I don't know what is going on with that boy anymore, but anyway, he is busy so you won’t even see him.”

“Good.” Lauren exhaled. “The less I have to deal with anybody else, the better.”

Margaret laughed again, patting her shoulder. “You’re in charge, and I trust you. Sophie’s pretty easy to keep entertained. Oh, and don’t forget to feed the dog.”

“There’s a dog?”

Before Margaret could answer, Sophie came racing back into the room, holding a giant tangle of Christmas lights. Girl, calm the f down. It wasn't even Christmas yet. We still have few weeks untill then.

“Lauren! Can we make cookies? Or build a gingerbread house? Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“Nope.”

Sophie frowned. “Do you know how to braid hair?”

“Not really.”

“Can you build snow forts?”

Lauren shrugged. “Probably not.”

Sophie looked somewhat horrified. Lauren hoped the girl would reject her and made her life easier, but Mom was always right.

“Don’t worry. I will teach you. We can also watch YouTube together. Or…”

“Or,” Margaret cut in, “you can help Lauren settle in first, kiddo.” She kissed Sophie on the forehead. “Be good, okay?”

“Okay, Mom!”

“Lauren, thank you again.” Margaret grabbed her bags, smiled, and headed out the door. “Have fun!”

Lauren watched her leave to meet her mom at the airport, already regretting every decision that had led her to this moment.

By the time Margaret and her mom left for the airport, Lauren learnt two things: Sophie had enough energy to power an entire city, and she clearly wasn’t thrilled about her temporary babysitter.

“Why don’t you like Christmas?” Sophie asked, sitting cross-legged on the couch as Lauren sifted through her phone.

“Don’t you have cartoons to watch?” Lauren replied, avoiding the question.

Sophie ignored her. “Is it because you don’t have a tree?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s weird,” Sophie said. “Everyone likes Christmas.”

“Not everyone,” Lauren muttered.

Sophie tilted her head. “Did Santa forget you or something?”

Lauren sighed. “Look, kid, I’m not a big fan of Santa actually so maybe? Let’s just focus on not choking each other.”

Sophie rolled her eyes, which Lauren had to admit was kind of impressive for a six-year-old.

That evening, Lauren had just managed to wrestle Sophie into bed after an hour-long negotiation involving having ice cream for dinner. Lauren wasn't proud of it, but a girl gotta do what it has to do.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto the couch, hoping for a moment of peace.

But then the front door creaked open.

Lauren sat up, heart pounding. Was Margaret back? No, she wouldn’t have knocked.

“Hello?” she called, grabbing a spatula because that’s what people did in movies.

A figure stepped into the light of the hallway. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair curling under a knit beanie. He looked up, and his face; sharp jawline, piercing eyes looked at her in surprise.

“Who the hell are you?” Lauren asked, pointing the spatula like a sword.

The guy raised his hands, looking more amused than threatened. “Easy there, warrior. I am Margaret’s brother.”

Her stomach sank. “The Larry?”

“Yeah. The Larry,” His smirk widened. “And you must be Lauren. The Christmas Grinch babysitting my niece.”

Lauren glared at him, still clutching the poker. “Why are you here? Margaret said you wouldn’t be home for Christmas.”

Larry shrugged, leaning against the doorway like he had all the time in t

he world. “Change of plans. Hope you’re ready for some company.”

And just like that, Lauren’s carefully controlled holiday nightmare went from bad to so much worse.