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The title is a misnomer. My name is Ellen McHugh and my best friend, Jan Harrelson was invited by her boyfriend to spend two weeks in Europe seeing the sights.

"What a fabulous opportunity. You'll love Paris and Rome, how romantic."

"Ellen, I can't go. I don't feel comfortable leaving Steve alone."

Steve was her eighteen-year-old son.

"Jan, I'll stay here, and watch him. You have to go." So, I was the baby sitter for Steve, who I'd known since he was a baby. I'd even changed his diaper. "I'll even cook and make sure he gets up and goes to work." He had a part-time job for the summer at a grocery store.

I'm still not sure how it happened, but I turned out to be much more than a "baby sitter." I was forty-eight-years-old.

Jan left on a Saturday morning, and Steve had a date with Karen D'Elia Saturday night, who he'd been seeing for over a year. "Steve, remember, you have a midnight curfew. Don't be late."

"I won't. Promise."

...

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