More Than Just Mom

by Rebecca Smith

  ‘You know it.’ I stand up and gather the plates. ‘And you’ll be sorry that you doubted me when I’m swanning around the world on my superyacht, drinking Mai Tais with cocktail umbrellas and enjoying three hundred and sixty-five days of sunshine.’

  Nick starts telling me that he has never once doubted me in his life as we stack the dishwasher and yell at the kids, who have taken advantage of our neglect to watch another film and eat their way through an industrial-size packet of crisps, and then we head upstairs to bed. And the entire time, I am thinking about how I can take my novel to the next level.

  What is becoming increasingly clear is that I’m going to need a little help – and I think I have the solution.

  Chapter 27

  I go online first thing on Friday morning and order the item that is going to save my writing career. Then I bring my manuscript up on the screen and write like fury, barely stopping to feed the kids or acknowledge Nick’s return from work. I write all evening and late into the night, and then I wake up earlier than I have ever voluntarily woken on a Saturday and I keep on writing until I am very nearly at the end of my story.

  ‘I feel like I’ve barely seen you,’ complains Nick, bringing me a cup of tea. ‘Are you going to be on your laptop the entire weekend?’

  I look up at him, blinking to help my eyes adjust to daylight.

  ‘I’m almost done,’ I tell him. ‘And I thought that we could have a date night tonight. What do you think?’

  Nick’s face lights up. ‘Why don’t I give Scarlet and Dylan some cash to go to the cinema? Then we can actually have some privacy for a change.’

  I nod. ‘That’s a great idea. We could do with some privacy for what I’ve got planned.’

  My husband sighs happily.

  He has no idea.

  *

  After supper, I bribe Benji with an hour of screen time on the iPad before packing him off to bed. Scarlet and Dylan need little persuasion to take our money, and Nick gives them enough to get a McDonalds before the film starts.

  ‘All the more time for us,’ he says gleefully as the front door slams behind them. ‘So what’s the plan? Shall I run you a bath?’

  I shake my head. ‘I’m in charge this evening. All you need to do is drink some wine and relax.’

  I lead him into the living room, where the scene is set. There are candles flickering on the mantelpiece and music drifts softly on the air. Everything has been chosen to enhance the moment, right down to the sexy playlist that I spent an hour creating this afternoon.

  ‘Good choice,’ says Nick, smiling at me seductively as the familiar, husky voice of Marvin Gaye tells us to get it on. ‘Dance with me?’

  He holds out his arms, and for a second I am tempted. But we’re not here to dance, and we haven’t got all night.

  ‘You can just sit down there.’ I push Nick gently on the chest until his legs hit the sofa and he falls back onto the cushions. ‘I told you – all you have to do is relax.’

  Nick leans back and eyes me curiously. ‘I like the idea of that,’ he tells me. ‘But shouldn’t we slip into something a bit comfier first?’

  I glance down at the baggy top and leggings combo that I threw on this morning. ‘No, it’s okay. I’m pretty comfortable in this.’

  Nick grins. ‘Well I’m thinking that you won’t be in it for long, so you’re probably right. Why waste time, babe?’

  I glance instinctively at the clock on the wall. The kids left the house four minutes ago. Time is ticking. I’ve got a lot to get through this evening.

  ‘Enough talking,’ I tell him, snappily. I need this to be as realistic as possible and it won’t work if he’s chatty. ‘Just lie back and listen to the music. I’ll be with you in just a moment.’

  Dashing out of the room, I head into the kitchen where I pour two glasses of wine. Then I hesitate. Wine doesn’t seem right, somehow. Bending down, I rummage around in the cupboard and find a bottle of whisky left over from Christmas; exactly what I need. Sloshing the amber liquid into two fresh glasses, I kick off my shoes and pad back into the living room.

  ‘Bottom’s up!’ I hand Nick a glass and throw back my drink, wincing as it hits the back of my throat. ‘Right, let’s get down to business.’

  I put down my glass and hover over Nick, who is watching me with what appears to be trepidation in his eyes. ‘You need to lie down and put your left leg in the air,’ I tell him. ‘Straight up, at a right angle.’

  Nick frowns. ‘I’m not entirely sure what—’

  I don’t let him finish. ‘It’s easy.’ I grab his glass and set it down out of harm’s way, then I put my hands around both his ankles and yank hard until he’s horizontal on the sofa. ‘Just raise your leg,’ I say. ‘Simple.’

  ‘But why?’ he asks. I realise that I am going to have to work a bit harder than I initially thought.

  ‘Because I want you to,’ I tell him, running my hand along his leg. ‘Just trust me.’

  Behind me, Al Green is crooning, telling me that whatever I want to do is all right by him. ‘Listen to the music, sweetheart,’ I whisper to Nick, pulling his leg into position. ‘Just chill and go with the flow. And do what I tell you to do, okay?’

  ‘I’m trying.’ Nick grimaces as I push his other leg onto the floor. ‘But this is starting to feel like a dodgy scene from Pulp Fiction, Hannah.’

  Perhaps ‘Let’s Stay Together’ wasn’t such a well-thought-out music choice, after all.

  I pause for a second, trying to remember what should happen next.

  ‘Okay, you need to reach out your arms and support my weight,’ I say. ‘I’m going to crawl on top of you and you should be able to hold me using your core strength.’

  I don’t give him time to respond as I quickly position myself in a crouch at the end of the sofa. ‘Are you ready?’

  Nick raises his arms instinctively and I lurch forward, almost as if I am doing one of those weird, starter dives that little kids learn at the swimming pool before they’re ready to stand on the edge.

  It does not go entirely as I had planned. Nick’s arms hold me for two fleeting seconds and then collapse underneath me. I slump down on top of him, hearing all the air leave his body in a massive whoosh, narrowly missing smashing my head into his chin.

  I roll to the side and gaze down into my husband’s shocked eyes.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I tell him. ‘That one was always going to be a bit tricky. I have others.’

  I push off his chest to stand up, ignoring his groans. Then I brush myself down and walk across to the table in the corner of the room, where my new purchase is discreetly placed. I’ve bookmarked the pages and I turn now to page fifteen, which looks slightly more doable.

  ‘Okay!’ I spin round and clap my hands together. ‘Let’s try something else. This one doesn’t need you to be very strong, which is probably just as well!’

  Nick sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. ‘Firstly, what the hell are you doing, Hannah? And secondly, there’s nothing wrong with my strength, thanks very much.’

  ‘Except for the fact that you couldn’t hold me up,’ I mutter. ‘You might want to think about working on your core, Nick.’

  ‘You threw yourself on top of me!’ he protests. ‘And I think you might have dislocated my right knee, while we’re on the subject.’

  I narrow my eyes at him. ‘Do you want to have a romantic date night or not? Because you’re doing an awful lot of moaning.’

  Nick stands up. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but yes, despite the fact that you are behaving in a bizarre and frankly disturbing manner, I am still keen for a date night with you. But I might need an ice pack for my knee before we go any further.’

  ‘No time.’ I prowl across the carpet and peek up at him through my lowered eyelashes. He clearly needs me to bring out the big guns if he’s going to stay, and I need him here. I cannot do this on my own. I’ve already proven that. ‘And you won’t be needing your knees for this particular position.�
�

  It’s a stupid thing to say, and technically inaccurate, but fortunately my mistress of seduction act appears to be working. Nick reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me in close before leaning down towards my lips.

  I spin round and take a step away. ‘Are you ready to have your mind blown?’ I ask him over my shoulder, allowing my cardigan to slip tantalisingly to the side to reveal a millimetre of skin.

  Nick swallows loudly. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good.’ I bend down and peer back at him from in between my legs. ‘So, I’m going to move into a handstand position and all you have to do is catch hold of my feet. Then you ease them onto your shoulders and we’ll take it from there. Okay?’

  Nick gulps. ‘Should we – you know – take off some clothes?’

  I shake my head and immediately regret it. The blood is already pooling and I know that if I stay upside down much longer then I’m going to start seeing black spots in front of my eyes.

  ‘This is the practice,’ I tell him. ‘There’s plenty of time to do it naked once we’ve mastered the moves.’

  I place my hands on the floor and take a deep breath before elegantly flicking my legs out behind me.

  They rise approximately two centimetres before thudding back onto the ground.

  I try again.

  This time they barely leave the floor.

  ‘How long has it been since you did a handstand, Hannah?’

  I can hear the mirth in his voice, but I will not give up. I kick out again, this time with more vigour, but my feet still fail to rise to the desired height.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ I say, crouching on the carpet. ‘I was excellent at handstands when I was at school. I could do the scissors and the ballerina and the pencil and the one where you had to put one foot against the other leg. I was a handstand expert.’

  ‘That was about thirty years ago, to be fair,’ Nick tell me. ‘Your centre of gravity has probably changed since then.’

  I glare up at him. ‘My centre of gravity is exactly where it’s supposed to be. I’m just out of practice, that’s all.’

  ‘Sweetheart. I have no idea what this is all about but can we please just go upstairs and have regular, vanilla, ordinary sex like the regular, vanilla, ordinary people that we are? Please?’

  I flop down onto my backside and stare up at him despondently. ‘That’s the whole point,’ I tell him. ‘That’s what this is about. Regular and ordinary isn’t going to work. Vanilla isn’t good enough. It has to be sexy and raunchy and raspberry ripple. Don’t you get it?’

  Nick moves so that he’s sitting beside me. ‘Aren’t you happy with us, Hannah? Is that what’s going on?’ He picks up my hand and strokes his thumb across my palm, avoiding my gaze. ‘Because if I’m not being enough for you and if I’m not making you happy, then we need to talk about it.’

  There’s a moment of silence while I work out exactly what he has just said. Then the penny drops and I realise his mistake.

  ‘Not us!’ I exclaim. ‘I didn’t mean that it wasn’t good enough for us, you numbnuts! It’s about Daxx and Bella Rose! Vanilla isn’t good enough for them, is it? You said it yourself – erotic fiction is supposed to be sexy – so I thought I’d try to get some inspiration. Look!’

  I twist around and reach behind me, pulling the book off the table. ‘I bought this online,’ I tell Nick, waving it in his face. ‘I thought we could re-enact some of the positions and then I might find it a bit easier to visualise what Daxx and Bella Rose might be doing.’

  Nick stares at me, his face blank. Then slowly, he reaches out and takes the book from my hand, turning it over so that he can read the title.

  ‘Kama Sutra: Three Hundred and Sixty-five Positions,’ he reads aloud. ‘One for every day of the year.’

  ‘I thought it might be helpful,’ I say. ‘But it was clearly a waste of money. Those positions we tried were about as sexy as a wet kipper.’

  Nick doesn’t answer. Instead, he starts flicking through the book, his eyes darting from one image to the next.

  ‘Some of these are a lawsuit waiting to happen,’ he murmurs. ‘I mean, good god – who in their right mind could possibly think that this one is a good idea?’

  He turns the book to face me and I flush.

  ‘That’s the one that I was just trying to do,’ I confess. ‘I thought it looked like it had potential.’

  He stares back at the page. ‘You weren’t doing it right,’ he states bluntly.

  No shit, Sherlock.

  ‘You didn’t need to do a handstand. The man is holding her legs and she’s supporting herself by grabbing onto his calf muscles. And then it looks like she has to wriggle up his body and—’ He stops and looks at me appraisingly. ‘That’s not going to work.’

  ‘None of them work.’ I sigh loudly. ‘How am I supposed to write an arousing love scene if I can’t even act it out in the privacy of my own living room?’

  Nick flicks through another few pages and then looks up at me, a grin spreading across his face.

  ‘I reckon we could give this one a shot,’ he says. ‘Come on. It’ll be a laugh. If it doesn’t work out then we can call it a night and go upstairs – and if it does work then we can still go upstairs and try it again!’

  I shake my head. This was a stupid idea.

  ‘Come on, Hannah.’ Nick’s voice is wheedling now. ‘Let’s try this one out. What have we got to lose?’

  ‘Our self-respect?’ I mutter, but he’s already pulling me to my feet. I take the book off him and glance at the page. It does look a little easier than the positions that I attempted, and I can totally imagine Daxx and Bella Rose pulling it off with ease.

  One last go, then. I suppose it can’t hurt anything more than my pride.

  ‘I’ll be here,’ Nick says, walking into the middle of the room and standing with his legs planted apart in a wide stance. ‘You need to lie down in front of me with your legs in the air.’

  I do as he says, holding the book above my face so that I can refer to the instructions.

  ‘Okay, now you have to kneel down by my head,’ I inform him. ‘How is your knee, by the way?’

  There’s a creaking sound as Nick lowers himself onto the floor. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he says gamely. ‘I think we’ve still got an ice pack in the freezer – I’ll pop it on tonight and take a couple of Ibuprofen.’

  I look again at the page, rotating the book so that I can figure out exactly what goes where before putting it down on the floor next to me where Nick can see it. ‘My legs are supposed to be on your shoulders,’ I tell him. ‘I think the man is holding onto the woman.’

  I make a supreme effort and pull my legs towards me. At the same time, Nick leans forward and grips onto my ankles and between us, we manipulate my lower limbs until they are resting on his shoulders.

  ‘Good job!’ praises Nick.

  I cannot reply as my thighs are restricting the flow of air to my lungs and I don’t want to waste precious oxygen on unnecessary speaking.

  ‘Right, it looks like I now have to move forward and to the side.’ Nick takes over as master of ceremonies. ‘I think you need to roll back a bit more, Hannah.’

  I snarl, and contort my body into a position that reminds me of a turtle. My backside is sticking up and my head is pushed so far forward that I know I must have at least three chins going on. Above me, Nick grimaces as he bends his body so that his face is peering out from beneath one of my knees.

  ‘I’m not sure we’re doing it like in the diagram,’ I grunt.

  ‘That’s because your leg isn’t where it’s supposed to be,’ answers Nick. ‘Just shift it a bit and I’ll be able to slip into the space.’

  ‘I. Cannot. Move.’ My words are punctuated by short, sharp gasps of breath, each intake only a tiny percentage of what my lungs actually require.

  ‘Just clench your arse and roll back a bit,’ demands my husband, his face turning puce. ‘I’m stuck here now. And don’t fart, for the love of g
od.’

  I glare at him. ‘I don’t fart. You know that.’

  He snorts. ‘Yeah, okay. So that wasn’t you who woke me up last night, letting rip?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ I snap. ‘On account of the fact that I do not fart. And get off me. This isn’t working.’

  ‘I wasn’t kidding, Hannah. I’m stuck here until you move a bit.’

  ‘I can’t move!’ I howl, feeling my leg muscles start to tremble. ‘And I’m about to get a cramp. So if you don’t get your stupid face out from between my legs then I’m probably going to crush you to death, anaconda-style.’

  Nick’s eyes widen but before either of us can do anything to stop my imminent thigh spasm and his imminent death, there comes a sound more terrifying than any I have ever heard before.

  The sound of the living room door opening.

  We both freeze, which is stupid, because while our teenagers may be self-centred they will still definitely notice their parents entwined like a two-headed beast.

  ‘—least I didn’t have to watch that crap film you were suggesting,’ Dylan is saying. ‘So that’s some—’ He pauses. Time stands still. ‘What-the-actual-fuck?’

  There is a tiny gap in between my thighs and Nick’s face. I peer through, then wish that I hadn’t. Scarlet and Dylan are standing in the doorway, open-mouthed and incredulous.

  ‘Parents.’ Scarlet’s voice is chilly. Nick stares at me in horror. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘We’re practising our yoga moves,’ I say, trying to sound breezy.

  ‘Mum lost her wedding ring,’ says Nick at the exact same time, his voice only slightly muffled by my leg.

  ‘Is it up her arse?’ asks Dylan. ‘Because that’s where you appear to be looking!’

  I close my eyes.

  Make them go away. Please, if there is any justice in the world, they will just disappear.

  There’s the sound of footsteps and I sense our offspring coming closer, circling us like predators assessing their prey.

  ‘Very funny.’ Nick makes a valiant attempt to regain some authority, which would possibly be more successful if his face wasn’t squashed into my buttocks. ‘You can both go and put the kettle on and we’ll be through in a moment. Then you can tell us all about the film.’