Next she went to Jeremy.
“Have fun,” he said, trying not to sound as half–hearted as he felt.
“I will,” Jamie answered, falling into her husband’s open arms. She was grateful that Jeremy had let his anger go long enough to say goodbye properly.
“I hope you find what it is you’re looking for,” he whispered.
“Me too.” she whispered back. No, that wasn’t what she meant. She could see by the look on his face he’d taken it the wrong way. How could she fix it though with the camera right there?
She picked up Poppy for one last hug and then passed her to Caroline, as she would have done on any day when she was going to work. Sophie was still covering her face but she picked her up anyway, with great difficulty, the miffed four–year-old stiffened herself like a board. Jeremy leapt forward to catch her before she fell from her mother’s arms.
“Say goodbye to Mommy, Soph, or she’ll be sad,” he tried.
“No,” was the only muffled word from beneath her finger mask.
Jamie had no choice but to allow herself to be lead to the cab.
*****
The camera panned to Jeremy and the children as the cab drove away. Jeremy’s eyes misted as Sophie dropped her hands from her face finally and started to cry.
“I want Mommy!” she wailed. Jeremy picked up his daughter and headed for the house with Caroline hurrying behind him wishing she could push the cameraman on his face.
“Come on, sweetie,” Jeremy crooned. “You know what? We have to be out of here for a little while and then a nice lady is going to visit.”
They had to be out of the house while it was rigged up with hidden cameras and microphones throughout. It was less invasive apparently than having a bunch of cameramen around constantly. Of course, having the house wired with bugs wasn’t invasive at all, he thought sarcastically. “Why don’t we go grab some burgers and play a while?”
Josie stopped crying and peaked at her Daddy from under her damp lashes. “Now?” she asked.
“Yes, now,” he said. “Would you like that, Pops?”
Poppy nodded enthusiastically. “Like burgers,” she said.
“Is that okay with you, Caroline?”
“Sure,” she said. “Let me change my shoes.”
*****
Jamie watched the trees, people and other cars whizz past the window as she sped on to her new adventure. She couldn’t help but feel a thrill. Her thoughts were very near the surface and she needed to get them down, to document every morsel of this fascinating exchange of lives.
She dug into her purse for her iPad, clicked it into its case with the keyboard and started typing.
Day1
Leaving my family wasn’t easy. Soph was in a sulk and Jeremy is less than impressed with the whole thing. Thank God for Caroline. All I can hope for Jeremy is that he gains something from all this and he comes to realise I was right after all. Sometimes we have to sacrifice our comforts and pleasures to make the bigger picture brighter.
It was a shame really that she could only document the truth from her own side of the show. If Jeremy hadn’t been so pig–headed about the whole thing, he could have documented it from his perspective. Not that he wouldn’t be on camera, because he would, but just the tidbits that the postproduction team decided to air. Her more in–depth article would tell a minute–by–minute view of what happened over the two weeks. She tapped her lip with her finger. Maybe she could even parlay her article into a series later if she could get the producers to see it as an advertisement for the show.
“We’re pulling into the airport. My insides are churning. Obviously, I’m to travel somewhere that is some distance away and it’s making it feel very real. I wonder what kind of reception I’ll get from the new family? Will my new husband be as hesitant to grasp the concept of a change of lives as Jeremy has been? I wonder what kind of home I’ll be going to? It would be fun to get one of the juicy ones. A two-room cabin somewhere with no modern amenities maybe, now that would stretch me as a person and really give me something to write about. What ever it is, I WILL throw myself wholeheartedly into this because I understand what it is to embrace change.
“You might want to put that away now, Mrs. Winter,” the driver said. “We’re here.”
*****
Three hours and a plane ride later, Jamie stood in awe staring at what would be her new home for the next two weeks. The house didn’t look a lot different from her own. Maybe it was a little smaller, but its lawns were neatly manicured and it was, well, it was nice. This wasn’t the two-room hovel she’d been hoping for, but she’d have to make it work anyway. She couldn’t stop the slight tinge of disappointment from almost marring her mood, but she was able to shake it off. After all, every family had their skeletons. All she had to do was find them and she would have an angle for her story.
The first thing she noticed as she stepped into the hall was a very large, simply framed family portrait. It was hung prominently so that it would be the first thing she saw. So that was the woman that was on her way to her house. She looked nice. Older than her but then her children were older.
It was an old–fashioned picture. The parents sitting on stools quite formally dressed and the children arranged around them in size order. The mom was sitting just in front of the dad. The oldest girl who looked about eleven or thirteen maybe, was standing next to her father. Pretty little thing with red hair. The child next to her – a boy with his father’s dark hair – looked slightly younger and in sharp contrast to his sister. The youngest two kids, a boy about eight and a girl she judged to be a little older than her Sophie, were standing in front of their mother. They obviously shared her fair hair and skin. Everyone was smiling nicely, it was so neat – nice, but too orderly to be normal. Her gaze drifted back to the man in the centre. The dad, she thought. Her new husband. He was kind of good–looking in a confident sort of way. There was something about his stance that she just couldn’t put her finger on. He was big and had obviously dressed up for the photograph, but didn’t look comfortable. She didn’t know why but she imagined him in something more casual and rugged.
The rest of the house was cosy and clean, but more functional than well decorated. The dining room had a large bookcase with lots of books all stacked neatly on the shelves. A closer look told her they were children’s books. That seemed an odd place to keep them, she would have thought either in their rooms or the family room at a pinch would have been more appropriate. Oh well, each to their own.
When she walked into the kitchen, she smiled. On the fridge was a happy face picture one of the children had obviously drawn. The other wife had written in neat handwriting.
Hi New Mom,
Welcome to our home, I hope you’ll be happy here. I didn’t know what your likes and dislikes were, so I just got some different kinds of juices and iced teas. We don’t buy soda or junk food and Joe and I don’t drink alcohol. Feel free to help yourself to anything you need.
Love,
Sarah xoxo
Jamie winced. She hadn’t thought to leave a note, or juice. If she was to be honest with herself, she hadn’t considered the other woman’s comfort at all. She was pretty sure that there would be something to drink in the fridge at home but she felt kind of petty and mean that she hadn’t chosen them specially or made any special effort.
Having already drunk a few glasses of wine on the plane, she decided to forgo the drink and sat down at the table to have a glance at the manual.
It all seemed to be pretty straight–forward. The woman was a stay at home Mom. That wasn’t a surprise; if she had a bunch of kids and still had time to worry about beverages then she probably didn’t have an outside job. They had four children, again, not a surprise. There was the portrait, and she could count. What she didn’t know were their names, so that was nice to read. Pretty names, she thought. Cute that the oldest girl was named for her father. They hadn’t waited for a boy to use the Daddy’s name. She liked that. Th
ese people were obviously forward thinkers. She was kind of glad there was a little one. Although at five Hannah was a year older than her Josie, she was still small enough to play tea parties. It would remind her of home.
She groaned when she read Sarah’s thoughts about the housework being her domain. Guess she should have seen that coming. Kind of went together with the stay–at–home–mom thing. So much for them being forward thinking. Damn, she’d have to clean.
“Hold the phone!” she said out loud at the next gem of information. Sarah home schools these kids? That meant she would be home schooling these kids. No one had mentioned anything about being a teacher! How would she have time to do this with the list of chores a mile long? Sarah didn’t seem to have any trouble. Apparently it was a matter of balance. Joe had taught her this.
“Hmmm.” Maybe she should be taking notes. She got set up and then assembled her thoughts on what she’d read so far.
“This appears to be an old fashioned home where the mother is the main caregiver and the keeper of the house. She also home schools four children between the ages of five and thirteen. The father apparently does none of these things, but gives advice on how best they should be done. I can’t wait to meet this man so full of knowledge.”
Jamie returned to the diary, flipping a page and rolling her eyes as she read the first line.
“This is a traditional home.”
Her eyes widened with every sentence.
“As such, Joe is the head of our home. He has the final say in all things.”
“No!” she said. “In ALL things?”
“Our children are expected to follow the household rules or face the consequences. These vary from sitting in the consequences chair to much harsher punishments: Losing their Saturday night television privileges, doing extra yard work or cleaning the bathrooms. I have written a list, but Joe will decide on which punishment is suitable for the crime.”
Jamie was shocked, but like a passerby gawking at a road crash, she found she couldn’t stop reading.
“Joe is the head of our marriage as well as our home. He has simple rules and he expects me to follow them. If I break a rule, Joe will discuss it with me but ultimately if he decides that I need punishment he will punish me.”
“Um... how?” Jamie commented, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of this man. “All the chores are hers anyway!”
“Occasionally there will be an unusual punishment that Joe decides fits the crime, but mostly if I break a rule I get spanked.”
“SPANKED!” she practically shouted. “He spanks her?”
“I realise this is not the modern way that most married couples live these days, but it works for us. Please try not to judge Joe or our marriage until you have lived in our shoes.”
Well that train’s already left the station there, Hon, Jamie thought. The man was a bully plain and simple.
“Try to remember that this first week you need to follow our way of life. This is how we live, happily. I have written a list of the rules that I follow. You won’t have to worry about getting spanked if you mind them.”
Jamie sat mindlessly staring at the screen trying to find the right words to describe all this while also processing that final sentence. Did she mean he intended to spank her? Surely not. Really? She typed her thoughts rapidly, hoping it would clear her head.
“After reading the rules, I find that I am now not only speechless, well almost speechless, obviously I can still type enough to say that I’m kind of scared. I mean I’ve read stuff about HOH (Head of household) but these people seem intense. Should have packed my red shoes. This sure as hell ain’t Kansas!”
Jamie blinked and tried to clear the vision from her mind of the man in the family portrait tossing her over his knee. What if he did try to spank her? Should she shout and run? Should she call the police? Should she give up and go home? Good lord, her own words were still mocking her from the screen that was still open in front of her.
“What ever it is, I WILL throw myself wholeheartedly into this because I understand what it is to embrace change.”
Sometimes she just had too much to say.
Can I embrace a different way of life? A man spanking a woman just because he can seems so 1950’s. I don’t know if I can live like this, but I do know I am not a quitter. I’ll just have to try to show him how wrong it is to treat a woman this way.
*****
While Jamie was coming to terms with her new circumstances, Sarah was trying to muddle through hers. She wandered through the house and it seemed eerily empty. At first glance there were no toys or books or any hint whatsoever of what kind of family she’d come to. Silence was something that she just wasn’t used to. There was no welcoming note on the fridge. She opened the door, curious to see what this family ate. Apart from the shelf of wine, the food seemed to be fresh and fairly healthy.
In the hall she came across a wall of photographs. The little girls that looked back at her from their prettily framed likenesses looked like angels. At least there were children, for that she was extremely grateful.
Sarah opened the diary that had been left for her. She was shocked. She had written a complete volume about their home and how it ran. This was barely a page. Within minutes she knew the children’s ages, that the husband was in real estate and chose most of his own work hours and that she, Jamie, was a journalist. The final statement made her jaw drop.
“The children won’t be any trouble; we have a nanny who is a Godsend. She will mind the children while you go to the magazine and do my job.”
She knew this exchange would probably push her totally out of her comfort zone. She wasn’t prepared though for this. Not only did she have to stay in this cold and unwelcoming place where she would have to sleep in an empty bed without the comforting warm body next to her, but also she was to be sent out to work. What did she know about being a journalist anyway? She’d barely been gone from her home for a day and already she was missing Joe. He would have had the right words to encourage her, to make her feel like she could do this.
Chapter 3
Jamie’s heart thudded nearly out of her chest when she heard the front door open.
“Shit,” she said. Damn, swearing wasn’t allowed. Was damn a swear word? By the time Joe and the children were all in the door, she was beet red and decidedly flustered.
“Hi.” The handsome man in a button down plaid shirt and jeans held out a bunch of flowers. “I’m Joe.”
Jamie smiled and accepted the flowers gracefully, trying hard not to look too closely at the hands that were holding them.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “I’m Jamie.” If first impressions meant anything, this man didn’t look like an ogre or a bully. He seemed to be really nice. When she did finally steal a glance, she couldn’t help but notice that his hands were rather large. She was dismayed at the shiver of excitement than ran through her when a fleeting image of those hands spanking her bottom crept into her muddled mind.
“These are our children,” Joe said, putting the excited but patient kids out of their misery. “This is Josie.”
Josie grinned at the woman that looked quite a bit younger and very much more fashionable than her mom. “Pleased to meet you,” she said. “I like your shoes.”
“Thank you, Josie,” Jamie said, trying to ignore the look of disapproval from Joe. He wasn’t actually turning it on her, yet, it was directed more at the shoes themselves and she guessed, the fact his daughter had noticed them. “I love your hair,” she whispered.
“My son, Zeke,” Joe said.
“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am,” the boy answered politely, trying hard to keep his gaze on her face.
“Pleased to meet you too, Zeke, but I’m Jamie, not ma’am.”
“The children may call you either ma’am or Mrs. -” Joe was not sure of her surname.
“Mrs. Winter. But that’s so formal,” she argued gently.
“No, it’s common courtesy,” Joe said with a smile. “Thi
s young man is my son, Matthew.” He’d moved on and the subject was closed.
“Hi Mrs. Winter,” Matty said with a friendly smile.
“Hi yourself there, Matthew,” she said. She crouched down, as well as she was able in her short skirt, to be at Hannah’s eye level. “You must be Hannah.”
The little one nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“I have two little girls that are a little younger than you,” Jamie said.
“Really?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, really, so I know what little girls like.” Careful not to leave the boys out, she turned to them next. “You two are the first little boys I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know, so you’ll have to teach me what boys are into. If that’s ok.”
“I could do that,” Zeke said with enthusiasm. “I ain’t little though.”
“Oh I am sorry,” Jamie said. “Of course you aren’t. It must have been the flight. I’m tired.”
“Zeke,” Joe said with a warning frown.
“Sorry, Ma’am. I just meant, I’m eleven.”
“Really? You’re tall for your age.”
Zeke smiled and tossed his hair out of his eyes.
“Children, why don’t you go and play outside until dinner,” Joe said. He smiled at his kids to reassure them, but when he turned his attention back to Jamie, his voice held an undertone that made her squirm.
“Mrs. Winter and I need to get acquainted.”
Jamie shivered, feeling as though she was about to be sent to the new headmaster’s office. Oh yeah, she practically was. This guy essentially was the principal. The thought made her giggle.
The Grass Could Be Greener Page 3