by Fiona Traville

Created on: November 07, 2008

"Here, let me get my jacket out of the closet, and then we can go to the park."
I looked up at my babysitter and she smiled a little as she looked down at me. My mother had left about an hour ago, and already the two of us were getting along quite well.
She opened and held the door of her car for me, and I climbed up into the high seat of the SUV. The smooth black leather seats and silver trim seemed to fit with her personality. Or, perhaps, with her voice. Her voice was one of the most beautiful things about her, I thought, and yet also one of the strangest. It was deep, almost as deep as a man's. But it was feminine, too, somehow. I liked it a lot.

When she turned on her car, the heater began to gently warm the air, and the song she'd been listening to blared from the speakers. She grinned at me and turned it down, then said, "I'll turn it off after this song, but I love this one, ok?"
I smiled and nodded. She didn't really need to ask. She was becoming cool in my estimation, and I would have listened to it at the original overwhelming volume if she'd wanted to.
I gazed out the window at the passing houses, with their neat lawns and their one or two trees per lot; I looked at the cars, at the blue sky. Mostly I listened to her singing along to the song, her vocals one octave lower than the original that was pouring from the stereo system.
"Ok, I'm done. I love that song, though." She clicked it off and glanced sideways at me, not smiling, but with eyes and face seeming content. I nodded, not knowing what other reply to give.
"So you're ten years old now, huh?"
"Um, yeah."
She nodded solemnly. I was hoping she'd say something more. Somehow it sounded like she'd known me when I was little, but I didn't know of any such thing.
"Do did you know me, um, when I was a baby?"
"Sort of. Your mom and I have been friends for a while. I already knew her when she got pregnant with you."
She fell silent. I wanted to say something, anything.
"That's a woman thing, huh? I've heard people say that. My mom says that. 'Pregnancy brings women together.' And there are lots of other woman things. Right? I bet you know a lot about those, huh?"
She glanced over at me, her eyes seeming perhaps a bit amused, then looked back to the road.
"Yes, there are a lot of 'woman things'. More than there should be, maybe." The last sentence was more muttered than spoken.
"Yeah? Um, are voices a woman thing? Or is that just whatever you happen to get? My mom's voice is kinda higher than yours."
Her face suddenly

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