Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories

by Michelle Windsor

  Late October, one Sunday evening, Sam was helping her mother change the linens of the B&B section of the house. They had just centered a beautiful Victorian quilt onto the bed in one of the more posh rooms when her mother asked her to sit for a moment at the room’s small floral sofa.

  “I want to talk to you about something, Samantha, and I don’t want you to get upset with me.”

  Whatever her mother had to talk about, it sounded serious.

  “What is it? Is Daddy okay?” She always worried about her father’s health since he had gotten sick.

  “Daddy’s fine. I want to talk about you.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded. “Do you like your new job, honey?”

  Sam knew her mother didn’t want to talk about her job. They talked about it everyday. There was no need for a formal discussion, but Sam humored her anyway.

  “Yes.”

  “Are there any boy teachers there? Maybe one you had your eye on when you were still a student?”

  “No, Mom, the only male teacher there is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

  “Oh. Well, how about back at school? Were there any old boyfriends, a young man you may have gone out with a few times? You know you can talk to me about this stuff. You’re an adult now. I mean I know you’re living with us, and I love having you here, but I also know you aren’t here because you can’t be out on your own. You’ve always been very responsible, Samantha.”

  What was she trying to say? Did she want her to start looking for an apartment?

  “I know I can talk to you, Mom. And you know you can say anything to me as well, right? And no, there were no old boyfriends from college. I was too wrapped up in studying to date.”

  Her mother pursed her lips.

  “What is it you want to ask me, Mom?”

  Her mother took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “Samantha, honey, I went to the store and stocked up your room in June before you came home. I knew something was wrong, but I also knew you weren’t ready to talk to us about it, but honey…how long are you going to keep this to yourself?”

  Sam’s eyes widened. Did her mother and father somehow know about Colin? No, that was impossible. No one knew about that. She quickly blanked her expression.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom.”

  She sighed and took Sam’s hand and patted it lovingly.

  “Please don’t get mad at me for saying this, honey. When you came home you looked terrible. You’d lost so much weight. I’m glad to see you looking more like yourself again, but darling, you have never been a girl to get fat. You can’t expect us, when we watch what you pack in your lunches for work and put in your mouth at dinner, to believe that that’s what’s happening here. Why won’t you just tell us?”

  Sam looked down at her body. True, she’d put on quite a few pounds, but she had a lot of stress with starting a new job. And no matter how much she loved her mother and father, moving back in with her parents at age twenty-four was stressful too. Not to mention that ice cream seemed to be the only distraction that worked when she felt like crying, which was a lot. Maybe she should start walking in the mornings.

  “I know I put on some weight, but I’m adapting to a new life and I guess I’m a stress eater.”

  Her mom dropped her head as if she were disappointed with Sam’s excuse. Maybe she was worried about her health.

  “Don’t worry, mom. I’m going to start walking tomorrow. I’ll be back to normal in—”

  Her mom looked up at her with tears shimmering in her eyes and Sam shut up. Why was she so upset?

  “Darn it, Sammy, I don’t know why you can’t be honest with me. I don’t think I’m that judgmental of a person.”

  Completely confused, Sam said, “Mom, I really have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “The box of tampons I put under the sink in your bathroom in June’s never even been opened,” her mother suddenly blurted.

  “Wha—” June, July, August, September, October…shit. “Oh my God.”

  “Did you really think we wouldn’t have noticed, Sammy? You’re showing, for crying out loud.”

  Sam didn’t think the idea of her parents not noticing was too hard to believe. It had somehow slipped her own attention. Sam was going to pass out. She hadn’t had a panic attack since June, but one was coming on.

  Her mother continued. “I’ve put it together that whoever the father is you two are no longer an item. I am not so old that I don’t get how things like this happen. I don’t know if he’s someone who wants to be involved in this child’s life or not, but no matter what, your father and I are here for you. We support your decision to do the responsible thing.”

  Sam couldn’t breathe. Her mom rubbed her back, knowing the attack would likely pass if she calmed down. When Samantha was finally able to pull in a full breath of air her mother gave her a sad smile and asked, “Will you tell me about the father, honey?”

  “He’s a father,” Sam said under her breath.

  Her mother nodded, totally misinterpreting the type of father Sam had meant. “Does he plan to be a part of the child’s life?”

  Sam swallowed and shook her head. “No.”

  Her mother pressed her lips together solemnly. “Well, he’ll still have to help you financially.”

  Vow of poverty, was the first thought to run through Sam’s mind.

  “I’ll never ask him for anything.”

  Some of the pain she’d been lugging around for the past four months suddenly slipped away. She owned a part of him after all.

  Her shaky hand tentatively touched her slightly protruding belly.

  “This is my baby. Mine.”

  * * *

  Adjusting to the idea of motherhood was surprisingly easy for Samantha. She immediately contacted her OB/GYN and—shock of all shocks—she was pregnant. She tried not to over berate herself for being such a moron and not putting two and two together. It helped when her obstetrician explained that lots of pregnant moms complain about feeling like they are walking around in a fog and not being able to remember everyday things.

  Once the doctor had verified that she was in fact pregnant, Samantha considered contacting Colin. She looked online for a phone number to the McCullough’s home. She could just call Braydon at school and get the number, but she didn’t want to have to answer any questions until she spoke to Colin. Then it occurred to her that Colin was likely living at Saint Peter’s again, or they at least would have a better knowledge of where he was. So she looked up the church online and that was when she had the idea of flipping through archived church bulletins.

  When she reached August’s newsletter her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. On the first page was a calendar and there on the first of August was written, Ordainment of Colin McCullough.

  He had done it. He’d gone ahead and become a priest. She knew he would have, but for some reason seeing the proof of the act was like dying a hundred deaths all over again. She tried not to get too upset knowing it wasn’t good for the baby. After that day she vowed she would never tell a single soul who her child’s father was, including Father Colin McCullough.

  The baby was due on March fifteenth. By Christmas she was the size of a house. Her mother had gone baby bonkers once the pregnancy was openly acknowledged. Sam suspected her mother would never want her to move out once the baby was born. Being that Sam was on her way to being a single mom with a child to worry about, the idea of staying with her mother and father close by didn’t bother her in the least.

  When she told them she would stay they had the guest cottage converted into living quarters for her and the baby. It had already been remodeled for the guests of the B&B so there really wasn’t much to change. Sam simply purchased a few personal touches for herself and the baby and brought in a few extra appliances like a microwave and mini-fridge. For the most part they’d still be eating with her parents for most meals. It was just enough privacy, but still gave h
er the comfort of knowing her parents were close by.

  On New Year’s Day her mother surprised her with a baby shower. It was small and nice. All the girls from work had come and Sam felt much loved.

  She couldn’t help but imagine how different her shower would’ve been if Maureen McCullough had been involved. She imagined all the aunts and Morai and Italian Mary and smiled fondly at the fantasy. If only the circumstances were different. Then she banished the thought.

  Her mother had been wonderful to her since finding out. To wish Maureen was there somehow felt disloyal. Yet, Sam knew her not telling Maureen of her coming grandchild was pure treachery in itself. All in all, thoughts of Maureen and the rest of the McCulloughs made her feel confused and guilty so she tried to think of them as little as possible.

  For the most part it was easy not to think of the McCulloughs. They were hundreds of miles away and no one close to Samantha knew of their existence. If ever she did think of them or him, no one knew it but her.

  The baby began to move a lot. Sam would lay awake at night watching her stomach flutter and poke. Gestating was a fascinating thing. It made her sad that not only was Colin missing her pregnancy, but that he would never know what it was to experience parenthood with this level of intimacy. If things were different, Sam believed Colin would’ve adored witnessing his child grow.

  By March Samantha had completely given up on style. She was fairly certain she was having a girl because her looks had turned to shit. Her hair remained in a simple ponytail. All of her dress slacks were traded in for comfy yoga pants she hoped were dark enough that co-workers didn’t realize they were essentially sweat pants. If they did they didn’t say anything. Resigned to empire cut blouses, she accepted pregnancy was not a job for the vain. On top of all that, antacids had become a major food group.

  She spent an extra twenty minutes a day trying to get out of chairs and learned that low seating was something she should never chance without a buddy to help her back up. It was easier to simply stand, but then her ankles started swelling to the point she thought she would need new shoes, and her sciatica began to pinch and ache. So sat she did.

  She had been sitting at her desk one afternoon working on lesson plans for the sub that would come when she started her maternity leave, enjoying a soft pretzel and ridiculously large banana smoothie, when there was a knock at her classroom door.

  “Knock, knock.”

  Sam looked up and almost choked on her pretzel, the dough turning to lead on her tongue.

  “Braydon,” she wheezed.

  “I thought I’d find you here. I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d ask if you worked here. Low and behold here you are.”

  She knew she was being rude, but she had so not prepared for this. “It’s really not a good time. I have a lot of work to get done before next week.”

  He stepped farther into her classroom anyway. Sam slumped lower in her chair. She might as well have been trying to hide a beach ball under a tissue.

  “You look great. Different.”

  “Thanks. You look good too.”

  He came and plopped his keys down and sat right on the edge of her desk, making himself right at home.

  “You’ll never believe who’s applying to Villanova.”

  “Who?” she asked mechanically.

  “Sheilagh. My mom, who still talks about you all the time by the way, says she’s really grown up in the past few months. No one knows what happened, but it’s like she went to bed one night a bratty child demanding respect and woke up an adult prepared to earn it. She’ll probably get in. Shei’s always been smart. Kelly’s still the same old—”

  “Braydon, what are you doing here?” she finally interrupted.

  He seemed intent on updating her on every McCullough and there were certain McCulloughs she could do without hearing about, especially this close to her due date and being so emotional. Not to mention that she had to pee again and didn’t want Braydon to notice her condition.

  “I was worried about you. My mom tells me that Colin—”

  “Please don’t bring him up. I really can’t deal with any thoughts of your brother at the moment. I’m busy and I have to get back to work. I’m sorry.”

  She knew she gave her feelings away, but she had to if she wanted him to keep Colin out of all conversation. He gave her a sad smile that Sam took as his understanding her dismissal was more a self-preservation thing than anything personal.

  “Okay, Sam. Well, I’m glad I saw you. I’ll let you get back to work. Congrats on the new job and maybe I’ll stop by before school lets out.”

  “Sure. Closer to June would be best. I won’t be…as busy then.”

  He smiled seeming pleased that she’d like to visit with him at a less hectic time. “Okay then. You still have my number. Call me if you ever want to grab a drink or something. Just as friends, Sam. I hope we’re still at least that.”

  She smiled. “We’re still friends, Braydon.”

  “Good.”

  When he finally left Sam leaned back in her chair and breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hoisted herself out of her seat and waddled toward the bathroom before her bladder exploded. She was halfway to the door when Braydon suddenly breezed back in.

  “I forgot my keys—”

  They both froze.

  There was no hiding her belly.

  His eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re pregnant?”

  Sam hung her head. Her life would’ve been so much easier if she could have avoided this moment. She was about to sit back down and explain herself, but instead said, “Yes. And no doubt a million accusations are running through your head, most of them likely insulting, but I’m not going to listen to a single one until I go pee. You’re welcome to sit. I’ll be back in five minutes. Just remember, Braydon, knowing what’s right doesn’t always change what is real.”

  “But Sam—”

  “Not until I pee,” she said and wobbled out the door.

  It took longer than five minutes for Sam to waddle her way back to her classroom. With every hour that brought her closer to her due date her belly seemed to drop lower. She felt like her baby could fall out of her at any given moment.

  When she entered the room she could tell Braydon still hadn’t accepted what he had seen. He sat in a student’s desk in the front row and reminded her of a kid. His face was pale and his expression was one of complete bewilderment. Waddling to her desk, she sighed as she sat down.

  “Braydon, it’s okay. Really. I’m okay.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he said this as if it was news to her. Then he shook his head as if it were simply impossible. “Colin’s?”

  She pressed her lips together. She’d never told anyone who the father was. Braydon looked as though this revelation was costing him and she could make that all go away with just one lie. All she had to do was deny Colin’s paternity, but for some reason she could not lie to Braydon.

  “The baby’s father isn’t an issue. He or she will have all the love they need. I’ll be every bit as much of a father to this child as a mother. My child will want for nothing when it comes to being loved and nurtured.”

  He scowled at her. “You can’t do this, Sam. My family has a right to that child’s life. That’s my niece or nephew in there.”

  Overprotectiveness blanketed her like a second skin. If the McCullough’s knew Colin was the father he would undoubtedly find out. It would ruin his future and he would resent her for the rest of his life. He had made his choice and he didn’t choose her.

  Sadness morphed into anger.

  “What do you propose I do, Braydon? Walk into Saint Peter’s or wherever your brother is and ask for the use of a manger because I am about to bring the child of a holy man into this world? You know I can’t do that to him.”

  “He’s not at Saint Peter’s.”

  “Well, wherever he is.” She waved away the technicality. “There’s nothing he can do.”

  “Y
ou’re wrong, Samantha,” he snapped. “You should have contacted him the minute you found out. Contacted us. Something! You’ve gone all this time, keeping it from us, lying—”

  “You have no idea what I’ve had to endure, Braydon.” The start of tears choked her. “He chose the church! Not me, but a life of poverty, service, and celibacy in spite of what we shared! He practically promised himself to God from the cradle. He told me all along nothing would change his path and I understood that.”

  Tears slipped past her lashes and down her cheeks.

  “My baby changes nothing. If it did, he would only resent me for putting him in this situation. He would blame me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said so certainly. “Colin would never blame you for something he took equal part in. You need to come home with me. You have to tell them.”

  “No,” she resolved. “Tell them if you must, but I’ll never return to your home again, Braydon.”

  “He’s in Center County, Sam.”

  And that was why she would never return. The image of him in flowing robes and white collars made her chest ache so painfully she gasped and choked on a sob.

  “It’s too late. He made his vows to the Catholic Church, not me. Nothing can ever remove that promise. Colin’s word to God would be something unbreakable, not by circumstances, temptation, or even love.”

  “No, Sam, there’s so much you don’t understand.”

  “And I have no interest in comprehending, Braydon. Please try to understand. I have not told a single soul who the father is. I wouldn’t do that to Colin. You are the first person I’ve admitted it to. Colin finding out would be such a burden—”

  “Or a blessing,” he interrupted.

  “No, Braydon, it would be a burden. It would ruin everything. Please, please try to understand that this is not how I wanted things to work out, but it’s the best solution I have if I want to protect Colin.”

  He was quiet for a long while. As he looked past her shoulder as if seeing a vision only meant for him, he said, “The day of his Ordination you should have been there. I know he wanted you there, but knew it would be too hard for you.”