Looking around at the boxes cramming the hallway of what was hopefully her last rental house, Beth smiled to herself. It had been a long road from that first housesitting gig, but it had been worth the wait. Packing was different when you knew your next stop was a permanent one.
She headed back to her and Byron’s old bedroom and picked up her final box of books. Byron had helped her pack, but the moving van was coming this afternoon, and her husband wouldn’t be home until later. He’d flown to Melbourne yesterday for a conference and was sending regular grumpy texts about traffic and missing her too much.
Returning to the hallway, Beth put the last box by the door with a strange sense of unreality.
Perth hadn’t been her home for very long in the scheme of things. Had she imagined how bad things had gotten before Mara showed up? Had she really needed all the help? Maybe things had never really been that bad? Maybe she was just a pussy and a terrible mother?
Panic clawed at her stomach, but as its cold nails dug in, Beth felt herself move upwards as though to a higher seat of internal visibility.
Looking down, she saw the old thought patterns working to protect the person they still saw as a helpless child. Denial, trying to memory-hole her pain because they were scared it couldn’t be processed. Blame, insisting she take full responsibility for her depression so she’d never feel it again. Fear demanded she be hypervigilant lest she become miserable forever this time. A tag team of juvenile survival instincts trying to run the same cowboy operation they always had.
She closed her eyes and inhaled.
“I see you,” she told the usual suspects. “Thanks for trying to protect me, but I’m a grown-up now. It’s okay.”
She went to the kitchen and got herself a fresh bottle of lemon soda water, and when she caught sight of herself in the window, she smiled. Maybe she wasn’t exactly the same as she’d been before Simon, but she was still a hot redhead with big tits, and right now, that seemed a fine thing to be.
A thought that had been nudging at the corners of her mind for a couple of weeks prodded her hard. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost midday. The movers were due in an hour, but Simon was napping, and his favourite nanny, Wendy, would be coming over soon. She could ask Wendy to answer the door for the moving guys. It wasn’t childcare, but it wasn’t a huge deal either. Especially since Wendy said she was happy to help with things like that.
But what if it was rude?
Beth had mostly gotten used to working while she had help, but did she have the strength not to write, clean or pack? Could she take advantage of the nanny being here to go out and do something frivolous?
Again, she pulled herself upward and stared down at the guilt that said she needed to spend her whole life working or she was a selfish cunt.
“Thanks for trying to protect me,” she whispered. “But I think I’m going to go out. I’ve done enough work for today. It’ll be nice to have some fun.”
2
Beth hovered awkwardly outside General Pants. Back in her kitchen, her plan had seemed so simple—go into town, buy some age-inappropriate outfit to seduce Byron in, then head back home and start dinner. But she hadn’t factored in looking at actual teenagers while she picked out clothes.
Even from her extremely far away vantage point, General Pants appeared entirely staffed by foetuses. She was sure if she stepped inside, she’d trigger an old person alarm and get chased off.
“…I can’t actually,” a girl with braces told her child-friend as they slid effortlessly through the old person barrier. “You actuallycan’t believehow stupid it looked…”
Not as stupid as Beth knew she’d look trying on clothes in General Pants. She took a feeble step forward, then backed away to a nearby bench, trying to look like she’d remembered something important.
She swigged the Coke Zero she’d bought as a treat without tasting anything. As okay-ish as she felt about her post-baby body, it was still hard sometimes. She was five years older thanByron and, in her opinion, punching well above her weight before she’d given birth. The fact that no one agreed did little to put her mind at ease. Whenever Byron pushed Simon in his stroller, women went into fits of rapture. Again, Beth wasn’t worried anyone would turn his head—Byron wasn’t that kind of guy, and he still got hard watching her put moisturiser on her boobs—but it would be nice to be the one everyone stared at sometimes.
Right now, she’d settle for walking into General Pants without feeling like she was sneaking into a foreign country without a passport. It would be easier if she could picture the clothes she actually wanted to wear for Byron. The fantasy she wanted to cater to tonight was his, and that made arranging the aesthetic trickier.
She’d gotten the idea a few weeks ago when she’d woken early, checked on Simon and spontaneously returned to bed with a coffee for Byron, who was scrolling on his phone and looking adorably rumpled.
When she’d given him the mug handle first, he’d looked at her with such stern surprise she’d felt herself blush.
“Sorry for interrupting, Mr Thomas,” she’d improvised. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
His green eyes had darkened, and Beth felt a flutter of excitement. She and Byron used to pretend to be different people in bed, and he’d always been into it. Not just into it but eager to play along.
“I don’t know,” he’d said slowly. “How about?—”
Then his phone rang, and Byron swore loudly. From his pained expression, Beth had known it was something important.
“Answer it,” she said. “We cantalkwhen you’re done.”
Byron had smirked. “Good. I’m really into this hot nanny thing.”
Beth was glad he was too distracted by his call to see the shock on her face. She’d been thinking more along the lines of ‘secretary.’ She’d rushed out of their bedroom, panicking that he was attracted to one of the many nannies who’d come to look after Simon through the service Mara had found. After a few minutes of hard breathing into the mirror, she knew that wasn’t likely. All nannies weren’t hot girls, and all hot girls weren’t nannies, and Byron was probably just flirting with her. And sure, he’d never brought up the hot nanny thing before, but hehadjust become a father. Maybe he was having more… fatherly fantasies?
