Trent
“That’s the doorbell. I’ll get it!” I call up to my wife Parker, who is putting the finishing touches on her makeup before our big date night out. It’s been months since we’ve had a date. Parker has been busy with charity work and I’ve been swamped with cases.
I open the door to one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. She stands at about five ten, with long auburn hair. Her eyes an amber shade, her skin perfectly tan and toned. She looks to be in her early to mid-twenties.
“How can I help you?” I ask, not sure why this beautiful work of art is standing at my door.
“Are you Mr. Davis?” She looks around, presumably searching for the house number.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Beth…your babysitter?”
“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry. I was expecting someone younger. Parker said you were sixteen. Please come in.”
She steps past me when I wave her in. “I am sixteen. Why? How old do I look?”
My mouth drops open and I feel like a complete idiot. I look at her again from head to toe. Her perfect posture gives her an element of sophistication. “I thought you were in your twenties.”
Beth gazes around the foyer. “You have an amazing house.”
I stand proudly, aware of how extravagant our house is and how perfect my family is. As she moves toward the grand room, I see her warm amber eyes grow large. I know immediately that my life is her fairytale. It’s every woman's fairytale, and I proudly and lovingly provided this life for Parker.
Before leaving on our date, I give Beth a quick tour of the house and instructions on how to get ahold of us if necessary. She quietly takes everything in. She attempts to pull her short shorts down to cover her legs and crosses her arms to cover the little bit of cleavage she is showing. Her fidgeting alerts me to her awkwardness with her new surroundings. It’s kind of cute.
When I end the tour in the great room, Parker makes her way down the stairs. She moves so gracefully it’s almost as if she’s floating. I stare at Parker. She’s a vision of perfection. There’s not a hair out of place, her makeup and clothing are flawless.
Parker smiles as she makes her way toward us. “You must be Beth. Your mom has told me so much about you.” Parker shakes Beth’s hand.
“My mom has had nothing about nice things to say about you as well. She has mentioned how you’ve helped her out with consistent jobs at your events. She loves working with you.” Beth continues to shake Parker’s hand rather nervously before I remind Parker about our reservation.
We leave without any incident, which is unusual with the boys. Parker is all smiles as we get into her Mercedes. I pull the car out of the garage and onto the street.
“So…” Parker turns to me, smiling, “what do you think of her?”
“Of who?” I keep my eyes trained on the road.
“Beth. She’s cute, huh? She seems to be good with the boys.”
“Is she only sixteen?” I ask, shocked that a sixteen-year old could look that stunning and mature.
I see out of my periphery the weird look Parker shoots at me. “Yes, but she’ll be seventeen in a couple of months. Her mother mentioned she was very mature for her age, I had no idea. I like her though.” Parker pulls down the visor and refreshes her lipstick.
“I think it’s a little too early to tell if we like her. Let’s see how she is by the end of the night.”
The drive doesn’t take long to our favorite French restaurant in Beacon Hill. I pull in front of the valet stand, leave my keys in the ignition, and grab the ticket, escorting Parker in. She eyes one of her friends. I silently beg that she doesn’t go to their table. I’m hoping for a night with just the two of us and no distractions. It’s been so long. A rush of relief allows me to release the air I’ve been holding in my lungs when she just waves and keeps on going.
We’re seated in the corner that I have reserved. It’s private and nestled away from everyone else.
“Thank you for not going over there,” I say as I peruse the wine menu.
“You know who that was don’t you?”
I shake my head, not caring.
“That’s Sandra Wilkinson. She’s the railroad heiress and one of my biggest donors. Her great-grandfather developed the train system that connected the East to the West. She is the last surviving member and the sole heir. Sandra has never married. Many think she’s a lesbian.”
I look up from the menu. “Should it matter that she’s gay?”
“Not at all, but who’s going to carry on the family name?”
“I suppose she can always adopt, or there are other ways. Maybe it’s not that important to her.” I place my hand over Parker’s. “How about we not worry about Sandra and focus on us this evening? It’s been so long since we’ve been out.”
Parker forces a smile. “This is what I do. These people are who make my events successful. I have to know everything about them so I can get larger donations.”
“Babe, the most important thing you do is take care of our boys. They need you.” The waiter comes back and I order a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
Parker leans in a little closer, as if trying to keep the non-existent people around us from hearing. “I love spending time with the boys, but I need more. This makes me feel like I’m contributing to society. You got to finish law school. I didn’t get to finish medical school.”
And there it is. Parker quit school to plan our wedding after I proposed to her. At the time, she was happy with the thought of being my wife and raising a family.
“If you want to finish school, I don’t have a problem with that, Parker. But it seems like you’re investing an exorbitant amount of time asking people for money. Don’t you find it a little degrading?”
Parker takes a sip of her water before putting on her business face. “Perhaps you’re right. This is not the right time to talk about my charity work. Let’s enjoy our evening together.”
The rest of the night continues without incident, however, there is very little chatting until the bottle of wine is finished. I can tell Parker is tipsy because she starts flirting with me. We haven’t flirted with one another for a very long time. It seems as of late, we’ve become distant toward one another. I arranged this evening in attempt to get us back on track.
When we leave the restaurant, we stroll hand-in-hand down the street until we come to a little jazz bar. We step inside, order a couple more drinks, and sit down to enjoy the music. Before long, Parker pulls my hand and leads me out to the dance floor. Although dancing really isn’t my thing, how can I refuse my gorgeous wife?
We spend the rest of the evening dancing and laughing. It reminds me of the days in college when we would go line dancing with friends. Parker was the cutest cowgirl I had ever seen. We were carefree with no worries, much like tonight.
We finally get home a little after one in the morning. Beth is asleep on the couch. I’m not sure I should wake her, but Parker nods for me to go ahead. Beth is in need of a ride home, and like a dutiful husband I take that obligation seriously. There’s no way I’m going to have Parker drive Beth home.
The car ride is mostly silent. Beth is still half asleep. I can’t stop glancing at her. I catch a glimpse of one of her legs. It was more covered before, but now her shorts are pushed completely up her thigh. I wonder if she notices as I continued to stare at her shapely tan leg. It takes a few seconds before I realize what I’m doing and pull my eyes away. This is wrong. Very wrong…
I look back, unable to keep my eyes off her exposed flesh. It’s innocent, right? I’m just looking. It’s bad if I start touching. Excuses float through my mind, the angel and devil on my shoulder conversing back and forth.
“Do you like what you see?” Her voice is soft and seductive, something I would never expect from a sixteen year old.
I focus my attention on the road. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m not blind. I know you’ve been staring at me.” She stretches out her legs. “Do you like them?”
I glance over at Beth. Her smile is coy and self-assured. I quickly focus my eyes back on the road and grip the steering wheel for dear life. My heart is fluttering and there is a large knot in my stomach. Thrill and excitement countered with fear and dread. The air grows thick and stifling and I reach for my collar to unbutton it another notch.
I clear my throat. “So, uh, what are you studying in school?”
“Mr. Davis, I’m in high school. I study general ed.”
My attempt at changing the subject made me nothing less than a bumbling fool. “Yes, of course. Do you plan to go to college?”
“I haven’t decided. I’m keeping my options open.” Beth shifts in her seat.
I continue to stare ahead but notice her movement in my peripheral vision. Just a couple more miles before I’m at her house. Beth’s street can’t get here fast enough.
She places a hand on my leg. “I’d like to see what opportunities are presented to me. I’m young and there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.”
Her hand inches closer to my groin. I bite down on my lip trying to fight the arousal despite my strongest desire to curb it. I take her hand off my thigh and gently place it back in her lap.
“There is nothing wrong with having a little fun as long as you don’t do something you might regret later.”
In the most sultry voice I’ve ever heard, she responds. “Life is too short for regrets. I just want to do what feels good…what feels right.”
I pull into her driveway, grab fifty dollars out of my wallet, and thank her for watching my children. That is it. This will be the last time we will ever see each other and that will be good.