me?
The boy giggled at something on his screen.
I smiled softly, wondering if we had something in common.
My mind wandered back to what might've
happened this morning if I were a thousand times braver.
If I were a different girl, like my mother
on steroids, I would've worn something lower on my chest and higher
on my legs. I would've stood close to Mr. Oliver as he laid out his
expectations, perhaps leaning in to graze his collar with my long,
painted nails.
And then you would've been promptly
fired!
I shook my head, forcing away the fantasy. I
straightened my skirt, unsettled by the brutal heat throbbing
between my thighs.
It didn't help as I spent the rest of the
day caring for Flynn. The more time we spent together, the more I
realized what a beautiful child Mr. Oliver had created. It couldn't
have all been the unknown mother.
The kid had his bright eyes, his jawline,
and an intense concentration vibrant enough to carry the whole
world. Mr. Oliver had given his son the greatest gift of all –
superior genes – the kind of hard coding that made a person
destined for excellence the moment they left the womb.
God, whatever the terms of Flynn's creation,
this had to be a lucky woman. Anyone would kill to have babies like
this with a man like him.
My tongue circled the outside of my lips
slowly as I prepared Flynn's dinner. The child gave me a welcome
distraction when I carried it down to him – my first real
difficulty as he struggled with his vitamins.
After several refusals, I sighed. Doctor's
orders. Lucky me.
“ No, no! Yucky!” The boy
shook his head vigorously every time I moved the cartoon character
shaped pills up to his lips.
“ Chew them quick, and take
a big sip of water and swallow. Just like this.”
The boy stared up at me as I took one of the
extras I'd brought into my palm. I popped it into my mouth and
chewed, washing it down with a huge gulp from my water bottle.
Bleh! He wasn't kidding. These things do
taste disgusting.
“ Come on, young man. You
want to grow up looking just like your Daddy, don't you? You're
already stronger than me. Surely, you can do what I just
did?”
I held my breath, hoping it would work.
Flynn's face went blank. After a few seconds, he furrowed his small
brow and picked up the baby blue pill.
I bottled my laughter as his face squirmed
with disgust. He sucked the water from his cup – too fast! I ran my
hand across his back as he coughed, cleaning up the excess that
sputtered out his mouth.
“ Good boy! I'm going to
tell your father later. He'll be so proud.”
Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief. The
rest of the dinner went smoothly, and then I read quietly from my
Kindle as Flynn played with his army men.
It was later than I thought, and I must've
been much more tired than expected. I woke up, slumped in my chair,
as the grandfather clock upstairs chimed midnight.
Flynn had collapsed on the plush rug,
snoozing softly. I leaped up and carefully lifted him into my arms.
We made it to his room without waking, where I tucked him into
bed.
I wished I could've stayed asleep as easily
as the boy. I undressed and laid in the guestroom uneasily, staring
at the Spartan walls and debriefing myself after the first full day
as Mr. Oliver's babysitter.
Had I done a good job? Yes.
Had it gone more smoothly than expected?
Certainly.
Had I asked for such intrusive fantasies
about a much older employer? Hell no!
Mr. Oliver's firm body rippled in my mind
one last time as sleep fogged my brain. At some point, I rolled
over, toward the thin crack of dim light shining through my
door.
I'd forgotten to close it. I didn't know if
I were half-dreaming or vaguely awake, but I saw a suited
silhouette creep into the room across the hall, stop over Flynn's
bed, and gently kiss him on the forehead.
Then, the same figure exited, closing the
door behind him. He paused in the hall, arms folded, and turned to
my room.
I dreamed – saw? – Mr. Oliver standing in
the pale yellow
Louis - Sackett's 13 L'amour