"My mother would have been so handy!" She sighed.
"Would you like me to fly in my mother from Dublin so we can go on a date?" he asked, sounding a little more sarcastic than he wanted to. The Irish boy might have landed a green card by marrying the pretty blonde American, but sometimes she was really exasperating.
She brightened. "Why didn't you say it's a date? I'll ask the other mothers if they can recommend a babysitter!"
"I don't need a babysitter!" Colin declared.
"I want Samantha," Hugh added.
"Who?" Ciaran asked, puzzled.
"She comes to our school and tells us stories," Colin explained.
"I'm sure she'll come," Hugh insisted.
"Right. Does she have a cell phone?" Ciaran asked.
"No, but if we want her to come, she'll come," Hugh said.
"Who is she, Mary Poppins?" Ciaran protested.
"No, Dad, she's Samantha," Colin corrected patiently.
"Samantha who? Doesn't she have a family name?"
The children shrugged. Charlene was shuffling through the school papers with teachers' numbers – no Samantha on the list.
"Weird," she said. "Okay, I'll ask her tomorrow when I pick up the boys. Are we going out tomorrow?"
"Yes, Friday night seems perfect."
"Samantha doesn't come to school on Fridays, only on Tuesdays," Colin said.
"Then we'll have to wait until next week," Charlene sighed. "Or we find someone else." She grinned at Ciaran, batting her eyelids. "I'm sure the other mothers can recommend someone."
Colin snorted, Hugh pouted. Ciaran stared at the children, then nodded with a sigh. Charlene flashed a smile at him. He was so not looking forward to their date and the things he would tell her...
***
"Harith, I'm going to work." Keith leaned to kiss Harith's brown curls, receiving a groan in reply. Harith loved Keith's voice, but not in the mornings. "Get out of bed," Keith chided, squeezing the relaxed bicep.
"Doctor, can I stay in bed today?" Harith moaned, keeping his eyes closed but breathing in Keith's closeness. Toothpaste and aftershave – Keith was ready to leave. No time for a quickie.
"I'm not your doctor." Keith replied. "You're too old to be my patient."
"I should have married a real doctor, then," Harith grumbled, hugging his pillow. "What was I thinking when I married a pediatrician..."
"Too late, honey." Keith slapped his ass. "Get up. I'll see you tonight."
Harith threw the other pillow at Keith's back – and missed, since Keith was already out of the bedroom.
Harith sighed and waited another minute, but sleep was gone, so he climbed out of bed and into the shower. He loved Keith. Still loved him after seven years – almost five of marriage out of those seven – but sometimes he longed for something else.
He knew he was lucky. He came from India and had earned a scholarship at a college. Then he'd switched to baseball, becoming a prodigy. A scout noticed him and made a pro player out of him, which gave him a Green Card even before he met Keith. He wasn't stuck in the caste system of his home country. If he had stayed in Mumbai, he might have ended up in a hijra community, but here he could simply be what he wanted to be – a kothi, or a passive gay man who loved dancing and keeping fit after the glory days of professional baseball.
He had retired from pro games a few years earlier – athletes didn't have long careers and he was in his early thirties – to become a personal trainer and a gym instructor. Then on Fridays and Saturdays, he became an entertainer at the Desi Boys Magik Club – Wild Nights For Wild Hearts.
Since it was still Thursday, his fun could only come from the gym instead of the wild parties at the club. Lots of handsome men came to the gym every day, and temptation was stronger and stronger after seven years with Keith.
Harith loved his American husband – who looked more Indian than him, due to his Lakota mother – but he also loved being at the center of attention, and compliments could easily win him over. He knew Keith hated his "vain self" who craved love – from anyone, really. He was quite proud of his body and liked to be adored for his looks.
He'd given Keith exclusivity, but since he had retired from baseball, he found it harder and harder to resist temptation. New hunks entered the gym every day, and it was impossible to let them all go without tasting them. Still, his ass belonged to Keith and there was no question about that.
Until now. At the moment he was obsessed with Mike – a regular at the gym about Keith's age but with a body that turned even women's heads. Harith wasn't sure he could score with Mike, though, so he was procrastinating on his move. His gaydar had been turned off by lust.
And then that Thursday, Mike came during the last hour of opening. He was the last to leave the gym, along with Harith. They met in the locker room, and Harith smiled boldly, licking his lips in anticipation.
"Sorry I was late," Mike said.
"No problem," Harith answered. "You'll have to make it up to me."
"Really?" Mike grinned. He received the message. It was quick and passionate.
Harith enjoyed the differences between the two men and returned home late. Keith was in front of the TV, frowning.
"Sorry I'm late, last-minute customer," Harith said innocently, leaning to brush Keith's cheek with his lips.
"Dinner is in the microwave," Keith answered gloomily without looking at him.
"Thanks, I'm famished."
Harith ate, still thinking about Mike's body, then went to curl up next to Keith, who was zapping irritably with the remote but switched off the TV when Harith was settled.
"What a long day!" Harith sighed, putting his head on Keith's shoulder. "How was yours?"
"The usual," Keith muttered, throwing the remote on the nearby armchair.
"Are you mad at me?" Harith asked, puzzled.
"You could have called," Keith snapped. "I was worried."
"Oh, pappu, I'm sorry!" Harith knew what Keith liked – where to touch and how. "Forgive me?" he whispered, nibbling at Keith's earlobe.
"If you stop calling me pappu," Keith retorted.
"Of course, janoo-ie." Harith batted his eyelids and smiled.
"How about some English?"
"As you wish, darling..."
***
Thank God it's Friday, Keith thought, as he drove to work. Harith was restless during the week, but he really enjoyed his shows at the Desi Boys Magik Club, when he wore a sari to play The Hijra and then, after midnight, he turned into the sexiest stripper in town.
The Desi Boys Magik Club hired only "real Indians" – Desi or Hindustani – and played mostly Bollywood tunes, which Keith didn't mind. They were happy dance songs, so why not. The club's ten-year anniversary celebration had been a grand show with dancers flown in from India for the occasion. Harith had been a most wonderful drag queen as The Hijra – but that was last year and now he had gone back to less lavish shows.
Since he had left baseball, Harith had settled into his new life without his teammates – but now he was distracted, forgetful. He still did some modeling – even though he wasn't a famous name anymore and couldn't endorse anything, he still had a great body. And he still loved the outdoors, which helped Keith to stay fit, along with providing him a personal trainer all to himself for the weekend. But Keith felt Harith drifting away, the "vain self" almost taking over the sweet, cuddly boyfriend that had seduced him seven years ago.
Keith smiled to himself. He still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be married to Harith at all. The joy he'd felt on the day Connecticut legalized same-sex marriage was a pale shadow of the happiness he felt waking up next to Harith every morning. But then they must have slid into some sort of routine, and now Harith was restless.
Maybe they should go on vacation together and spend 24/7 in each other's arms for a couple of weeks. Keith badly needed a break from his little patients as well, but it was flu season and the flu shot had just become available, so parents would flock to him with the
ir kids for a few weeks.
We could do Diwali in India, he mused. He had met Harith's extended family and had been accepted as a member of the clan – much like his mother's tribe had accepted Harith. Only his father's side of the family had stopped talking to him because of whom he had chosen to spend his life with.
Anyhow, they needed some time to rekindle their love. The seven-year crisis seemed to loom over them – not on Keith's side, more on Harith's – even if Keith had no idea why.
Keith was nine years older than Harith, and had always known what he wanted. When he'd met Harith at the Desi Boys Magik Club – where the then baseball player was a customer during the game's season break – he'd been mesmerized by the way Harith moved his perfectly toned body to the music.
Keith had always thought he was a pretty decent dancer himself, but Harith had made him feel clumsy and bear-like. And when their eyes had met on the dance floor of the club, Harith had dazzled him with his smile. Keith couldn't resist when Harith grinned and bobbed his head sideways in the Hindustani way of saying "yes" – which had puzzled him at first, prompting the question, "Was that a yes or a no?"
Both said it was love at first sight. When the new game season started, they were already a couple. Then they had to wait for Connecticut to allow same-sex marriage, and they'd tied the knot on December 26 of that same year. Harith had taken Keith's family name – although the team and the fans had known him by his birth name throughout his career.
Keith still loved him like that first day, but understood why his spouse had changed. Maybe The Hijra and The Stripper weren't enough to quench Harith's thirst for attention and they should find something else. Or, if Harith enjoyed the entertainment part more than the sports life now, he could quit the gym job and work full-time at the club. They were a little far from the movie industry and the model agencies, but maybe Harith could open a dance school – Bollywood style.
Keith parked the car and sighed. It wasn't something he could figure out on his own. They should discuss it over the weekend. But now he must leave the thought of Harith in the car to go and meet his little patients.
***
The only thing Charlene liked about the move was the kids' new pediatrician. Back home she had an old lady helping to raise them, and here she'd found a handsome man in his early forties who was very good with them. Sometimes even better than their father, she thought as she waited for him to vaccinate both Colin and Hugh.
"I don't know how my husband found you," she said, observing Hugh wince in pain. "I know, he asked his colleagues for a recommendation, but sometimes I wish he could take some time off from the damn bank and help me, you know? I mean, I took a part-time job so I can take care of these two little angels here, but sometimes I wish he'd drive them around so I can lie on the couch for a couple of hours, you know?"
"Mom!" Colin snorted. "Leave Dad alone! Or he won't take you out to dinner tonight!"
"Well, if your Samantha doesn't show up we won't go out, honey, because we couldn't find anyone to look after you," she replied.
"Samantha will show up!" Hugh assured her.
"Yeah, right." Unconvinced, Charlene turned back to the doctor. "Doctor Randall, do you know a babysitter?"
"No, ma'am," he answered, giving Hugh a candy.
"You're married, aren't you?" she insisted, very curious. Such a handsome man couldn't be a bachelor. He must have some Native American blood in his veins, so maybe he had married into some tribe.
"Yes." He smiled, amused, as Hugh rushed into her arms.
"Any children?"
"No. You're all set, little gentlemen, the flu won't get you this year, I promise."
"Thank you, Doctor," Colin said while Hugh sucked his candy with a frown.
"Thank you, Doctor," Charlene added, shaking his hand. She didn't dare continue her inquiries, but she was more and more curious about him. Ah, well, maybe next time. Although she should try to meet him outside of his office. "Let's go, children."
Colin and Hugh waved good-bye to the doctor and chattered away all the way back to the house Ciaran had rented with his new salary and bonuses. Actually they could buy a house, because they could afford a mortgage now, except Ciaran wasn't sure he wanted stay in Connecticut forever. They might end up going back to California, so they decided to rent until they were sure of where they'd settle. Heck, they might end up in Ireland at some point – she wouldn't mind living in Europe for a few years.
The phone rang – another mother giving her a babysitter's number. She called and asked the teen if she was available and if she needed to be picked up. The girl – Alice – said she could drive and she'd ask to use her dad's car to come over. She hoped to be there by seven, if her cold didn't worsen – Charlene could hear she had a running nose. Alice said she'd send her sister if she couldn't make it, so Charlene hung up satisfied.
The kids rushed to their room and she decided to prepare for her date. She smiled at the thought of a date with her own husband. Since she'd relocated with him, he'd been grumpy. First he had begged her to join him, and now he didn't look happy she was finally here. They really needed to talk, to rekindle their marriage. Actually, they needed some sex, something Ciaran was avoiding with the excuse he was oh-so-tired.
It hadn't been fun to be alone with the children while he worked in another state. He was too far to fly back on weekends, so they had met very little since he'd been assigned here. Yes, they could talk and see each other on Skype, but still... living under the same roof was something else. And she'd been missing him, which was why she had relented in the end.
Except the reunion wasn't going too well. Not for her. Ciaran seemed distant. A devoted father and an absent husband. Their passion was meant to cool down through the years, but now it felt as if the flame was totally extinguished. Charlene was determined to light it again.
She opened her wardrobe, pondering what to wear. The red dress she had worn for their first date? That was more than ten years ago, and the dress probably didn't fit anymore, so why on earth did she keep it? Sentimental value, probably. That was the dress that had seduced the shy Irish boy blocked by cultural shock.
"Are you sure you speak English in this country?" he'd asked way back when. And he was fluent in Gaelic and French as well, but couldn't understand most of the American accents surrounding him. Poor Ciaran. Keer-in. Keer-awn. It had taken her a couple of months to say his first name properly – hence she'd insisted on less Gaelic-sounding names for their kids – but now she loved the sound of it. And she loved his Irish English. He spoke like nobody else she knew, and he was passing it to the kids.
Okay, red dress out, what's left? Black cocktail dress – would that be too much? What kind of restaurant had he booked? Charlene sighed. She'd better wait and ask him.
2.
Ciaran was happy the working week was over, but wasn't looking forward to the evening with Charlene. He'd booked a family-owned restaurant, so he took off his suit to wear a more casual look. Charlene sighed, but locked herself in the bathroom to prepare.
"Are you going to have fun with Mom?" Hugh asked as they waited for her to come out and the babysitter to show up at their door.
"I don't know, honey, we have a serious talk ahead," Ciaran admitted with a sigh. Maybe moving here hadn't been the best thing for them, but it was good for his career, and hopefully they'd be able to settle and be happy again. "You know we'll celebrate ten years of being together this year – albeit only nine of marriage." He caressed Colin's head with a smile.
"So you're going to have a big party?" Colin asked, hopeful.
"Probably not." Ciaran shook his head. "Maybe for the ten years of marriage. But we need to make some important decisions first. We could actually move to Ireland someday..."
"I like when Grandma Aileen talks Gaelic," Hugh said.
Both grinned. He smiled back at them. He was very fond of them and would do his best to keep the family together. It wasn't their fault if he felt estranged from Charlene.
The phone rang and Ciaran picked up. Alice and her sister were both down with a fever. No babysitter would come. Ciaran sighed and headed upstairs to tell Charlene when the doorbell rang.
Puzzled, Ciaran checked his watch – it was seven. He went to open the door and found a twenty-something brown-haired girl with blue eyes and a gypsy look standing outside.
"Hello, I'm Samantha," she said. "Heard you need a babysitter."
"Oh. Um... yeah, how did you...?" Puzzled, Ciaran let her in.
"A couple of kids called me," she answered with a mischievous smile.
Colin and Hugh saw her and rushed to her with enthusiastic greetings. "You heard us! Now you can tell us stories you haven't told the others! Will you tell us new stories, Samantha?"
"Yes, yes, sit down." She giggled, disentangling herself from them.
They obediently sat on the couch and she sat between them.
"Right, if we're not back by ten, put them to bed," Ciaran said. "Boys, be nice. I'll leave my cell phone number here in case of emergency."
"Thanks, but I won't need it. I'm sure Colin and Hugh will obey me, if they don't want to be turned into frogs – they know I'm a witch," Samantha replied with a wink.
"We'll be good!" the children chorused. "Now tell us a story!"
"Okay, let me tell you where I come from. My world is called Silvery Earth. We're not common people over there. Yes, we look like you, but we're different. First of all, we don't grow old..."
"Like Peter Pan!" Colin exclaimed. "I thought only boys could be immortal!"
"Actually there's a majority of girls where I come from," Samantha smiled. "Anyway, we can also go to other times and places – we can transfer ourselves into worlds created in books, movies, or even worlds you don't know exist because nobody told you about them yet. Yes, we can all do some kind of magic, and we usually are born twins. My twin's name is Sonia, and we're twenty-three. Of course we've been twenty-three forever, and we're not really looking for our Prince Charming. I mean, not even my friend Jessica, who doesn't have a twin, or my elder sisters Veruska and Vanessa who are twenty-five..."
Body Switches Page 9