Trent
A month has gone by and several arguments later, Beth is back at our house babysitting while we attend yet another charity event Parker has planned. While her generosity and compassion for others is beyond admirable, there are times I wish she’d just stay home and take care of the kids. They need her more than these charities. Personally, I’d like her to be waiting for me when I get home from work. I want to be her world. I’d like Parker to run into my arms when I get home and tell me she’s happy to see me. That hasn’t happened for a long time now. Not since Tyler was born.
We arrive in front of the hotel. “Thank you, driver. I’ll give a half-hour heads up before we’re ready to leave.” I enjoy taking a town car with a driver to these events so I can drink and not have to worry about driving home. Parker prefers that we drive ourselves so we don’t look pretentious. Since she won the battle over the babysitter, she gave in to me having a driver for the evening. I don’t think there’s anything wrong utilizing the finer things that money can buy, a driver being one of them.
I brush my lips across Parker’s cheek. “You look beautiful tonight.” Before she can acknowledge what I said, Parker is pulled away by some friends needing her for a last minute emergency. I proceed into the hotel and make my way to the ballroom. I’ve been through this song and dance many times before. I always have the same routine: find the ballroom, head to the bar, wait there and mingle long enough for Parker to come look for me wondering why I haven’t been by her side schmoozing the people who are bankrolling the event. She often forgets we are also major contributors to all of her events. Nobody is ever schmoozing me. Although, I guess that’s partly my fault.
Growing up, my father never gave me anything except for my college education. Despite having enough money to run a small country, my father was adamant that I make my own way without the family nest egg. I was ticked off about it as a kid, but when I got older, I understood the importance. That’s why when he offered to invest in my law firm, I refused to take his money. I wanted to make it on my own. I’m trying to instill the same thing in my children. Yes, they can have anything they want or need, but I try to give them a normal life. They have to earn allowance and do chores. There’s no full time housekeeper; we have someone who comes in once a week and the boys have to help out.
I get to the bar and immediately order a whiskey sour. Normally I start with a beer or a glass of wine. Tonight I’m in no mood to be at this event. I would have preferred a nice dinner alone with my wife. Lately, we only seem to connect when it’s just the two of us.
I throw the first back in record time and order a second. My mood starts to shift when I begin talking with others around me. The stories are mostly the same. Very wealthy people living in the Beacon Hill neighborhood who adore my wife and her events. Mostly they’re here to support her, not the charity itself. But because they have an endless supply of “old” money, they enjoy throwing it at whatever Parker asks them to. I hold up my refreshed glass and do a silent toast to my wife.
“Hey, buddy, what’s going on?”
It’s none other than Porter Matthews.
Fuck!
I pray he doesn’t know about the riff with our fathers.
“Trying to forget I’m here. I hate these things,” I mumble.
“You better get used to them. Parker doesn’t look like she’s going to slow down anytime soon. I think she’s found her passion.” Porter clinks his glass against mine.
Well, I’m certainly not her passion anymore.
I’m not Parker’s priority, this is. Perhaps she wishes she didn’t have a family. Lord knows she’s never home with us.
“Yeah, she sure has.”
Porter moves in closer. “So did you hear about Matthews-Davis?”
I take a slow sip of the whiskey to hopefully provide me an extra moment to find the right thing to say. “My dad left me a vague message about the company, but I didn’t understand it. Plus it was staticky. I think he was traveling.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting. I thought for sure you’d know about it.” Porter stares hard at me. I try to maintain eye contact.
“Know about what?” I wonder how long I can keep up this dumb act. I’m a lawyer, so hopefully long enough to get out of this conversation. Unfortunately, alcohol is like truth serum for me.
“Your father just dissolved his interest in the company.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Apparently, Jonathan Davis wasn’t happy doing business with Edward anymore.” Ever since we were young, we’ve called our parents by their first names. It seems kind of funny now.
I feign shock. “You’re shitting me. Is this some kind of joke? Why would he do that? Our family has been close for three generations.”
Porter eyes me suspiciously. “Are you sure you haven’t heard anything?”
I throw back the rest of my drink and signal for another. “I’m just as surprised by this as you are. Did Edward give any indication as to what’s going on?”
“None. He’s hush-hush about the entire thing. Makes me wonder what the two of them are up to. This must be some strange business tactic to throw somebody off.”
Relief settles in knowing that Porter is also at a loss as to what happened between our parents, although there’s a nagging suspicion he knows more than he’s letting on. Kind of like myself. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.
The bartender hands me my third drink. I contemplate whether or not I need to drink this. Part of me thinks I should sober up and make sure I don’t leak the conversation between my dad and me to Porter. The buzz is starting to come on strong and I put the glass down when Parker approaches.
“Come on, dear. It’s time to be seated. Porter, you should go find Cassie and follow us to the table.” Her smile is wide and bright. She put petroleum jelly on her teeth so she wouldn’t forget to keep her pearly whites showing through the night. I take her arm in mine and she escorts me to our assigned table, which I’m sure will be front and center for everyone to see her. She is strikingly beautiful. I have no idea why she needs to be in the spotlight all the time.
As I follow her to our seat, my phone buzzes in my front pocket. I reach inside my tuxedo jacket and remove it. It’s an unknown number and for a brief moment I think about letting it go to voicemail. But something inside me tells me to answer it.
“This is Trent…” I answer, keeping my voice low to not upset Parker.
“Mr. Davis?”
My heart stops for a brief moment. It’s Beth. Butterflies surge from my stomach into my chest and kick start my heart again. It’s euphoric, and I haven’t felt it since Parker and I first started dating.
“Yes, Beth. Is everything all right?” My voice is very low now. I feel like a kid who got caught with their hand in the candy jar.
“It’s Tyler. He’s throwing up. I checked his temperature and it’s one-hundred and two. I put some cold washcloths on his forehead, but I don’t know what else you want me to do. I didn’t want to call, but Parker instructed me to call you if I needed anything.”
I glance over at Parker, who is now giving me a dirty look. I sigh heavily, knowing that I’m about to head into the lion’s den. I down the rest of my beverage. “I’ll be there shortly.”
I hang up the phone and grab Parker’s arm. I whisper in her ear, explaining the circumstances. She takes my arm with real concern on her face. “Maybe I should go.”
“No, you stay here and finish your event. I’ll send the car back for you.” I kiss her on the cheek and leave the ballroom.
I catch a taxi to get back to the house not wanting to wait the few minutes for the driver to get there. The drive home is short, mostly because there is no traffic, but also because my buzz is still in full effect.
I run through the door in search of my sick son. No one is in the living room and the kitchen is empty as well. I dash upstairs to the game room and find my other two boys playing video games.
“Where’s your brother and Beth?”
“They’re in Tyler’s room,” TJ responds. “He’s not feeling well. He barfed all over the sofa.”
I take off toward Tyler’s room. Why do kids always vomit everywhere but the toilet? I’m mildly irritated until I come upon Beth holding Tyler in her arms. She’s rubbing the hair from his forehead and singing to him. The way she comforts him is so motherly, something I haven’t seen Parker do since our youngest was born and she was holding Tanner for the first time.
“How long has he been asleep?” I whisper.
“Not long. I gave him some Motrin after I got off the phone with you. I think the fever is starting to break.” Lying in Tyler’s bed with him in her arms, Beth looks comfortable and doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get out of here like most babysitters would be.
“How about I take over?”
“Let me have a few more minutes. I don’t want to disturb him.”
I’m surprised by her response. Beth seems to have a motherly instinct. I’m not sure what to do in this situation. On one hand I feel that I should be caring for Tyler. On the other, it would probably be best for him to rest.
“Trent said Tyler vomited on the sofa.”
Beth looks down at Tyler and smiles. “Yeah, his entire dinner. I haven’t had a chance to clean it all up yet.”
“That’s okay. I’ll go take care of it. I’ll get the other two in bed first.”
I hurry to get my other boys into bed. I check their foreheads and ask them about their stomachs before tucking them in. Chances are these two aren’t too far behind the sickness parade.
When they are settled in, I go downstairs and grab a beer before starting on the disgusting task of cleaning the sofa. These are the times when I wish I had a live in house cleaner. I want to kick myself for the stubborn rule I put in place. Who cares if we have a live in housekeeper? Is it going to make a difference in who my sons become? Where is Parker when I need her?
She’s out saving the world instead of taking care of her family.
I know I’m being selfish, but she was supposed to stay home to take care of the children, not tend to various charities. Despite our long conversations arguing about her priorities, she continues on with the charities because they give her the most fulfillment. I only wish she could feel complete with our children.
I get a small bucket with water, a towel, and some soap from the laundry room. When I reach the couch, I’m pleased to find there isn’t a whole lot to clean up. It looks like Tyler barely ate anything. I pick up the wet rag and start scrubbing.
“He’s asleep,” Beth says, stepping into the room. “I think he’s feeling a little better or the medication just kicked in.” She smiles despite the shadows under her eyes indicating exhaustion has set in.
“Thank you so much for taking care of him. I had no idea he was feeling bad.” I finish scrubbing up the mess.
“Parker told me he wasn’t feeling well this afternoon. She thought it would pass. Do you need any help with that?”
“No.” Parker knew he was sick and she didn’t have someone cover her at this event?
Unbelievable.
I slam my fist against the couch. I’ve had enough of Parker’s charity work. It’s interfering with the well-being of my children. This is totally unacceptable.
“Mr. Davis, did I do something to upset you?” Beth’s voice is sweet and concerned.
She’s obviously more concerned than Parker is right now.
“No, you’ve done nothing wrong. I apologize for startling you.” I go to take a sip of my beer only to find it empty. I sigh in frustration that nothing about this night is going right.
I take a dry towel to eliminate the excess water on the sofa and throw the towels in the bucket. When I look up, Beth is bringing me a new beer. Even though I’ve had more than enough to drink tonight, my mouth still salivates at the sight of it.
As Beth approaches, she trips over the bucket and the beer splashes on my suit, drenching my shirt.
“Shit!” I'm not mad the shirt is wet. It’s more the shock from the ice cold liquid hitting my chest.
“I’m so sorry!” Beth quickly reaches down and grabs one of the unused towels, using it to blot the liquid on my chest, continuously apologizing.
Everything is moving so fast. One minute I’m about to grab a beer from her hand and the next Beth has her hands all over my chest. I haven’t had any woman except Parker touch me in almost seventeen years. The feeling is foreign, but it sends goosebumps up my spine and enough electricity surging through my veins to light up an entire city block.
I pull Beth’s hand from my chest, my breath heavy. She gazes up at me. Her eyes are a beautiful shade of amber with gold flecks, her nose petite and peaked up at the tip, her lips full with a warm shade of pink. Beth bites her bottom lip and right then and there, I know I need to have a taste. It’s almost as though she’s sending me an invitation.
I scoop her delicate face up in my hands and caress her cheeks. She doesn’t stop me. She swallows hard, like she wants this as much as I do. I rub my thumb against her bottom lip. It’s soft and supple. I slowly lean in as she closes her eyes, pressing my mouth against hers. It’s everything I imagined and more. It’s wrong, but it feels so right.
I part her lips with my tongue and slowly enter until we connect with one another and begin the dance of passion. Her mouth is as sweet as if she just ate some sort of candy. Her kiss deepens, drawing me in. I pull her closer, wanting as much as I can take. I caress her back and move toward her bottom, bringing her closer to my erection. Her body next to mine, grinding on me, is intoxicating. I tug on her auburn curls, tilting her head back and exposing the soft flesh on her neck. I nibble the nape in between planting soft kisses. Beth rubs her hand along the hard length of my erection. She wants me. She’s begging for me.
“Dad, I can’t sleep!” Tanner yells down from his room. I instantly snap out of my trance and realize I’m kissing the sixteen year-old babysitter. I pull one hand through my hair and down my face trying to figure out what I’ve just done. What would possess me to go there?
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve never let it go this far. I’ll call you a car service and get you home.” I dart up the stairs two at a time, cursing myself the entire way. I’m a married man with three kids and a wife. I’m a lawyer and I just kissed a child in a way that’s totally inappropriate for any adult to do.
I settle Tanner in and sit with him until he falls asleep. The entire scenario replays through my mind. My buzz is completely gone and I’m stone cold sober, praying that I didn’t just screw up my life.
When I head back down the stairs, I notice Beth sitting on a leather chair flipping through a magazine. She doesn’t look as though she’s any worse for the wear. In fact, she’s glowing.
“The driver should be here any minute,” I announce.
She puts the magazine down, stands up, and moves toward me. No part of her looks like a teenager. She is all woman. I stand frozen, not sure what I’m supposed to do here. Should I keep apologizing or should I pretend nothing happened?
Beth moves in close and puts her hands on my chest. She rubs my pecs and inhales my scent. “We didn’t do anything wrong. I want this as much as you do.” She stands on her tippy toes and kisses the bottom of my chin. I pull away and resist the urge that I so badly want to give in to.
“We can’t do this, Beth. I’m married and you’re a child.” I remove her arms from my chest and take a step back.
“Age is a terrible thing. Do I look like a child? Every part of me screams woman. I know what I want and it’s you.” She reaches for my chest again.
I close my eyes and fight the desires that are swirling like a merry-go-round. I take a deep breath and a step back. “There are laws and people who would be greatly hurt if I acted on this. I’m sorry, but this can’t happen.”
I take her by the shoulders, turn her around, and escort her toward the door. The faster I get Beth out of my house the better off I will be.
Beth puts on the brakes and won’t move another step. She whips back around. “Since when are there laws on feelings? You can’t tell me what I’m feeling is wrong. I can see what I do to you. There’s an energy between us. You can’t deny it.”
“Beth, this is my family you’re messing with. My children need me.”
Beth places her hands on her hips. “Your wife doesn’t. She doesn’t even want to be a mother to your children. I would. I would have endless kids with you and make sure they were all cared for and loved, and when you return home from work, I’d make sure you know how much I appreciate you. Tell me, does Parker do that?”
I run my hands through my hair and try to stop the thoughts from spinning in my head. I can’t begin to wrap my head around what is going on.
I turn Beth back around and open the door. Thank the heavens the driver is waiting in the driveway. I escort Beth to the car, open the door, and put her in. I close the door without saying another word.
I mean, what is there to say?
Once back inside I pour myself some scotch. I need a stiff drink to help me process what just happened. I love Parker, but I got the distinct feeling early on that it wasn’t mutual. There’s never been the electricity between us that there is between Beth and me. How have I lived this long in a loveless relationship? I guess I just figured it was part of the package. It’s what comes when having children. This thing between us is different. This is more.