by Dinah McLeod
See? I can tell time, he almost said, but didn't.
"Oh, no!" she said again. "I can't believe… Maddi… Kenzie…"
"Have the girls eaten?" he asked, even though he was betting he knew the answer, if their faces had been anything to go by.
"Um…"
"Have you?"
"Ah, no, actually."
"Do we have anything we could make for dinner?"
When she winced, he suppressed a sigh. It looked like they'd be going out—again.
"Go ahead and get dressed."
"I should probably feed the baby."
"Yes." He held their son out to her and she took him. "I guess you should. I'll go get the girls washed up."
"Thank you." The words were spoken quietly, with more embarrassment than gratitude, it seemed to him.
"You're welcome."
When he got back downstairs, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at the living room. There was a bowl lying on its side and cheese balls scattered along the carpet. There were also orange streaks on the couch. Looked like the girls had been given free rein this afternoon. It made him wonder what Sadie had been doing all day, but he knew better than to ask. No man asked that question unless he wanted to be sent to the firing squad.
These days, it seemed like no matter what he said he got sent there. Sometimes, when she looked at him with that swell of anger in her normally gorgeous green eyes he could picture himself facing a dozen armed soldiers, ready to fire on her order. He tried to help—he really did, but it seemed like he was always in the way. So then he'd back off to give her space, and she'd scold him for being an absent husband. His dad had always been a man of few words, but on Robert's wedding day he'd given him advice that he'd never forgotten: a woman was like a hen. If you crowed her too often, she'd nip your fingers, but leave her alone too long and she'd pluck you to death. He'd gotten the message loud and clear: some days, you just couldn't win. Of course, some days felt like most days here lately.
Robert got the twins washed up and packed into the car. He was just climbing into the driver's seat when he saw Sadie coming toward him carrying the baby.
"Strap him in?" she asked, sounding exhausted despite her nap.
"Sure." He hopped out and took the baby from her arms, doing as she'd asked. "You got the diaper bag?"
"Oh, crap," she muttered, plopping into the passenger seat with an annoyed sigh. "I forgot."
"Don't worry. I'll get it."
"You don't have to. I'll get it."
"I said I'll go," he said, walking back towards the house with the keys dangling from his hand before she could object again. It seemed like that was all she did these days—protest without making a move to change anything.
It wasn't like he didn't understand—he did. Or, at least, he tried to. She had three kids, all in diapers—though he was often regaled with the tales of the girls' potty-training misadventures. McKenzie, it seemed, expected M&Ms every time she went potty now—even when it was in her diaper. And Maddison had found the stash of stickers and wall papered the house with them while Sadie had been napping one afternoon. And that was just the tip of the iceberg—to hear his wife tell it, she often found the house strewn with toilet paper, so at least they were interested in that. He found it all quite humorous, but she didn't seem to, so he tried to keep his amusement to himself.
He had to do that a lot here lately. His wife didn't seem to see the humor in a lot of things. It was as though having LJ had sucked the fun right out of her. Which was a shame, because the kids sure kept him laughing. He wanted nothing more than for his wife to join in.
Once he'd opened the door and found the diaper bag, he decided to make a quick detour in the kitchen. He opened the fridge and immediately stepped back when a foul odor engulfed their small kitchen. With a frustrated sigh, he plugged his nose and bent down to search out the culprit. He saw some chicken pooling in its own juices in the bottom crisper, and knew that it had to be the culprit.
"Not again, Sadie," he muttered to himself as he fished it out and threw it in the trashcan. He removed the tray to be cleaned and pulled the trash bag out of the waste basket, even though it was only half full.
There had been a time when she never would have let food go bad. She wasn't as money conscious as he was, but she used to pride herself on cooking good, healthy meals for her family. And on top of that, she knew that he'd bend her over the counter and paddle her bottom until she cried if she let food go to waste like that. It was like throwing money into the garbage can—he'd explained that to her more than once with her pants at half-mast and spoon in hand.
And while part of him definitely missed the relationship they'd had—not only did he miss disciplining her, but the intimacy that seemed to come along with it—he knew that this wasn't the time to scold her over one mistake. She'd just had a baby. She was still recovering. She was tired. Things would go back to normal… eventually. They just had to.
Chapter Two
BK—before kids—going out to eat had been a lot of fun. Or, at the very least, relaxing. Not having to plan and prep a meal, or stand over the hot stove, or clean up. There used to be tremendous appeal in that. Now, even going out to eat was a chore. Thanks to the girls, their waiter would be cleaning up a mess of salt, pepper and a rainbow array of condiment packets. She'd been red with embarrassment and had walked out with her head ducked, hoping their waiter didn't accost them and demand they pay a clean fee or—gasp!—do it themselves.
Robert hadn't seemed to share her discomfort. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice it. Somehow, that annoyed her even more than the twins' poor table manners.
She slid her nightgown over her head and sighed as the familiar stretchy fabric covered her body. Just putting it on made her want to hit the pillow and drool until eight the next morning. Not that she'd make it to eight—six, if the baby had anything to say about it, and the girls would be up by six-thirty even if the baby slept through his early morning feeding. Sleep was a luxury that she didn't seem to be able to afford these days.
"Are you going grocery shopping soon?"
Was it her imagination, or did she hear a hint of reproach in his voice? "I don't know. I hadn't planned on it."
"Oh. Well, we're looking a little low on supplies. We can't afford to keep eating out every night, babe."
He reached over and caressed her shoulder blade through the thin fabric of her nightgown, but she shrugged him off. "Then why did you say we should?"
"Because you didn't have anything ready to eat."
"I could have made something!" she snapped.
"Sure, but I was trying to make things easier on you. But now we've got to think of the budget."
"Fine. I'll have dinner ready from now on." With her back to him, she rolled her eyes, thinking that her surly tone probably wasn't too reassuring.
"Okay… and on that note, there was some chicken in the fridge that had gone bad, so I had to throw it out."
Ugh, did he really have to bring this up now? She was so tired, she just wanted to fall into a coma, at least for the night. "I'm sorry. I'll do better."
If he was thinking that he'd heard that one a few times too many, or that it was unlikely tomorrow would be any better than today, he didn't say so. And for that, Sadie was grateful. When she slid between the covers, she let out a sigh of relief that the day was over. Well, at least until LJ woke up, but it was as good as she could get, so she'd take it. She thought she might have felt Robert's hand, sliding suggestively up her naked thigh, but she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, so she just as well could have imagined it.
***
"Can you take the kids?" Sadie blurted out before the word hello even crossed her lips. She could just see her mother-in-law now, pursing her lips and wondering why her beloved Robert had married such an ill-mannered girl. It wouldn't be the first time—she'd voiced such thoughts right to Sadie's face.
"I suppose I could," she replied in a stiff, disa
pproving voice.
"I can be there in fifteen minutes."
"Is something wrong, dear?" She pronounced the endearment as though it left a bad taste in her mouth, but Sadie barely heard it. The only thing she could think about was that soon, she would get a break. It was so badly needed that she was even putting up with her arch-nemesis: the mother-in-law. And that was saying something, since Robert's mother was a particularly twisted piece of work.
"Nope. Nothing's wrong, just… I have a hair appointment. And I would have called you earlier, but I completely forgot." The lie came out in a rush, and left her holding her breath for the reply.
"Well, my goodness, you need to keep a calendar, dear. They're very cheap, I assure you. Why, even that fancy cell phone of yours has to have one."
Sadie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and counted to ten before she replied. His mother was so darn condescending that it was hard to take sometimes. Well, most of the time. But what she had to remember was that she was the one who was asking for help. Beggars can't be choosers—or some crap like that, right?
"I'll do that next time, I promise."
"Well, I suppose I'll see you soon."
"Oh, thank you, thanks so much."
"Anytime," she sniffed, in a voice that told Sadie she didn't mean it in the slightest.
Without a word, she hung up the phone, and pushed the annoyance that usually followed a conversation with her mother-in-law aside. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was that she was about to have a few hours to herself. Kid-free! She would have run through the house dancing in her underwear if it wasn't so childish. But once she got home from dropping the kiddos off, she just might.
***
"Hello, Sarah," Janice greeted her as she walked inside holding the baby seat and toddlers in tow.
"It's Sadie," she replied, noting how her mother-in-law didn't stand to help shepherd the girls into the house, but sat at the kitchen table, watching judgmentally as she entered. She imagined there were a dozen criticisms forming in Janice's head. She wouldn't say any of them—she'd hint at them, but never outright say them.
"Oh, Sadie's just so informal, dear."
Rather than point out that she shouldn't have to be formal with someone she'd known almost a decade, she put a smile on her face. "So, the girls will be needing lunch—"
"Oh, but it's already after one!"
"The girls will be needing lunch," she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady. "And I put LJ's bottle in the side pocket."
"Oh, dear, I do wish you and Robert would drop all this LJ nonsense and call the child by his proper name."
Which is LJ, Sadie thought. She bit down on her bottom lip before she could say the words aloud. It was interesting— Okay, it was peculiar. It was, in fact, several shades of weird that her father-in-law, middle-to-upper class, at best, had married a woman who thought she needed a six-bedroom sprawling farmhouse for the two of them and who spoke as though she'd been watching caviar commercials for the last decade of her life.
"At least I'll have enough room for the grandchildren," she'd said with a long sigh when Sadie had announced she was pregnant. Janice seemed to be of the opinion that "well-bred" women stopped at two children. Whatever that meant. Of course, her objections had quelled when they'd discovering they were having a boy.
"Thanks for watching them, Janice. I'll see you in a few hours."
It barely registered when her mother-in-law winced at the use of her given name. For some reason, she seemed bent on being called "Mom" and Sadie wanted no part of it. She reserved that name for the woman who'd given birth to her. She was so used to the reaction she was practically blind to it by now.
"Oh, dear, did you say a few hours?" She was holding poor little LJ up and away from her, as though she was afraid he carried germs from the plague in his chubby little cheeks. "I don't do diapers, Sarah."
"Bye!" Sadie called out cheerfully, making a bee-line for the door while the twins were still playing happily. She knew all the parenting books said you needed to say goodbye, and not let your kids be surprised by your absence, but damn it, she was just too excited to be on her own. She'd much rather leave them while they were stacking blocks then have to pry them crying off her legs, one after the other. She could only imagine how horrified Janice would look then.
Janice looked quite petrified at the moment, speed walking after Sadie as she climbed into her car. She was still holding LJ at arm's length. "Sarah! You know how I feel about diapers! You know this!"
Sadie cranked the car and pretended not to hear. She waved and blew kisses to the baby, pretending blissful ignorance as she peeled out of the driveway and did not look back. And she didn't feel one bit guilty, either. Not one bit.
She was friendly with a couple of other moms from church, and when they talked about getting a day off they tended to get their grocery shopping done or nap. Although she was always up for more sleep, she couldn't imagine a more boring way to spend her few hours of freedom! What could be worse than waking up from her kid-free time and discovering that it was all over? Those other moms probably got more breaks, but she had to be choosy about how she spent her time. And it just happened she knew exactly what she wanted to do with it.
She wasn't even out of the neighborhood—just far enough away that Janice wouldn't be able to spy her car—when she pulled over onto the curb and whipped out her Kindle. It just happened that her favorite spanking romance author, Sissy Red Bottom, had released a new novella that morning. She'd been waiting for it for weeks, eagerly anticipating getting her hands on it—or eyes, rather—more and more with each sexy, panty-dampening excerpt she read. When she'd woken up that morning, she'd sprung out of bed, buoyed with the plan she'd come up with the night before.
Dropping the kids off with her mother-in-law had been step one, and once she'd purchased it, step three would be the only thing left. And step three involved cookies—which she wouldn't have to share! And wine—which she wouldn't have to wait until the kids were in bed to drink! And a hot, full bathtub full of sudsy bubbles that she could lie in until her fingers were prunes, if she so desired. And boy, did she. She was filled to the brim with desire where her bubble bath was concerned.
Could not complete purchase, flashed on the screen. Hmm. Sadie furrowed her brow. She must have gotten so carried away with her day dreaming that she'd keyed something in wrong. Yet, when she tried again, carefully typing in her credit card number, she received the same blaring, disappointing message.
"Crap," she moaned, throwing her head back against the headrest. "What am I supposed to do now?" She supposed she could clean—that would make Robert happy. But it wouldn't make her happy, and didn't she deserve to be happy?
"Fuck this," she muttered under her breath, habitually checking the rearview mirror in reflex guilt. She was immensely relieved not to see any judgmental toddler eyes looking back at her. She was an adult—a grown woman! And if she wanted to read porn, by gosh, she was going to read porn! A stupid glitch on Amazon wouldn't stop her—no sir! A credit card error was not going to keep her from the long awaited treat Ms. Sissy Red Bottom had been waving in front of her nose for three long weeks!
It just so happened that there was a small erotica section at her local bookstore. Not that she knew because she'd ever bought one there—she'd been too mortified even to think about it! What if… but screw it, that was the old Sadie Miller! The new one was going to walk right in there, head held high, and purchase the new Sissy Red Bottom book. And if anyone so much as gave her side-eye, she'd give them a look that would knock them dead right on the spot. That would show them!
Comforted by her new plan—or, at the very least trying to fake it until she herself believed she was—Sadie drove the few miles to the local bookstore. It's okay, she told herself as she parked. Minor hiccup, but if I hurry I'll still have plenty of time for my bubble bath.
She breezed into the store, strutting like she owned it. Head held high—check. She slowed down just a tad an
d pretended to peruse the magazines for a few moments before oh-so-casually making her way to the small corner that housed their erotica section. Oh, my God, a panicked Sadie thought. They don't have it. Oh, crap, oh, crap. Am I really going to have to use my kid-free time to fold frickin' laundry?
Just then, her eye caught sight of the familiar red cover—Sissy's trademark—and her heart resumed pounding. She was so relieved that her hand was nearly shaking when she went to reach for the book. Well, it was either relief, or impending dread as she wondered how she'd manage to get out of the store without dying of shame.
I'm an adult, she told herself firmly. I can do what I want. Funny, now that she was actually in the book store, the words didn't make her feel any better. In fact, she felt the opposite of an adult. Not a kid, but worse. Yes, she felt like a teenager without a learner's permit. That was exactly how she felt in this moment, like she was trying to tell everyone she was an adult, but she was just pretending.
For a brief, tempting moment, she imagined sliding the book into her oversize leather bag. It would fit easily, and she'd buy a magazine at the counter, maybe a pack of gum, and she wouldn't have to face the scrutinizing eyes of the clerk at the counter. But then it occurred to her that the only thing worse than being caught buying porn was to be caught stealing it.
You can do this, Sadie thought. You're a big girl—you can do it. Great. Now she just sounded like she did every time she tried to get McKenzie to eat her vegetables. Was this what her life had come to?
"Just woman-up and buy the damn book already," she muttered aloud.
"I'm sorry, did you say something, dear?"
Sadie whirled around and about choked on nothing but air as she saw the reverend's wife, Mrs. Robinson, standing behind her. "Oh! Mrs. Robinson! I'm… I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there!"
"Call me Victoria!" she scolded lightly. "I keep telling you that!"
"Yes, ma'am," she laughed weakly. Oh, God. Had she seen the book? Sadie could feel her face flushing a bright shade of red—was it as red as the cover? And, for that matter, would it bring more attention to the book, or help camouflage it?