I must have dozed off again-it was still very early, the sun just coming up, and it was Saturday, after all. Ronnie slept too, her cheek resting against the top of my head, but TJ had already showered and was standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of their walk-in closet door, tying his tie, when I opened my eyes again.
“Did I sleep through the weekend?” I rubbed my eyes and yawned, stretching under the covers.
“Shhh.” TJ glanced at Ronnie, who was smiling in her sleep. “It’s just for a few hours.”
“I heard that.” Her eyes didn’t open and her words were barely intelligible but TJ
sighed, understanding her perfectly.
“Sorry, babe,” he apologized, shrugging on his suit coat. “Honest, I won’t be long.”
“You always say that.” Ronnie opened her eyes to look at him and then at me.
She frowned, her hand moving in my hair, petting absently. “I thought we were all going to make a day of it. We promised we’d take Beth to the Met. They’ve got Picasso on exhibit.”
“We are. We will.” TJ made a face, undoing his tie and starting again. “Besides, she’s six… she’s got plenty of time to see Picasso. She’d probably have more fun at the McDonald’s playland.”
“I would,” I mouthed, rolling my eyes, but I knew Ronnie couldn’t see me with my head tucked under her chin. TJ did though and he smirked.
“TJ, she has to know this stuff if we want to get her into Trinity—” Oh god, not this again. Yes,Trinity was the most prestigious school in New York-and just happened to be where Beth was teaching, so it would make life much easier, I knew, in terms of scheduling-but was it really the end of the world if the kid didn’t get in? Did anyone need that much pressure in second grade?
“You know what, Ronnie?” I found way to change the subject as I cuddled up, my cheek more fully on her chest.
“Hm?” She glanced at me, momentarily distracted. That was good.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear your breasts were bigger.” I cupped one of them in my hands, teasing her nipple.
“Stop,” she snapped, pushing my hand away and reaching for the covers. I sat up on my elbow, blinking at her in surprise as she pulled the coverlet practically up to her chin.
“What?” I looked between her and TJ, not understanding the sudden temperature change in the room. “I just—”
“You’re pregnant.” TJ’s face paled, the dimple in his chin growing more prominent as his pallor changed, his eyes widening as he stared at his wife. I gaped at him, looking back at Ronnie and seeing the truth in her eyes. TJ saw it, too, staggering to the bed and sitting on the edge. He looked back at her with a dazed expression. “I thought you had that thing, that IUI thing…”
“IUD,” she corrected, hugging the covers around herself. “I do. I did.”
“Did?” His eyebrows went up.
“I had them take it out,” she explained softly. “After I got pregnant. It happens sometimes, even though it’s ninety-nine-something-percent effective. And sometimes, when they take it out, you lose the baby…”
“But…” He took a deep, shaky breath. “They took it out, and you’re still pregnant?”
She nodded and I saw her lower lip trembling. I wanted to hug her but I couldn’t move. I knew I shouldn’t be there, but there I was, and I had no idea what to do now.
TJ sighed, putting his head in his hands. “After what we went through with Beth, we said… we agreed…”
The tears Ronnie had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
TJ wasn’t looking, didn’t see. “How far along?”
“A little over three months.”
I touched her bare arm, rubbing lightly, gently. She glanced at me and tried to smile but didn’t quite make it.
“And you didn’t tell me?” He turned toward her, his eyes blazing.
“I was going to,” she managed, tears pooling at the hollow of her throat.
TJ saw them now and his face softened. Then he looked at me. “Janie, can you go check on Beth?”
I nodded, knowing it was just a excuse to get me out of the room, and I took it, grabbing my t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on before slipping out the door. I did check on Beth, but she was still sleeping, her thumb tucked firmly into her mouth, a habit Ronnie was trying in vain to break her of. She was definitely going to end up with braces at this rate.
Instead of going back to my room on the first floor, I went straight for the shower, still warm and steamy from TJ’s time there. There was a shower downstairs, too, but it didn’t have double showerhead jets and I want to stand under the pound of water hot and hard enough to turn my skin bright red.
A baby.
It was both exciting and scary. What did that mean for them? For us? For everything? I loved being Beth’s nanny. She was a great kid, easy-going, very quick-
and she had the goofiest sense of humor. But what would it mean, being a nanny to a baby? Diapers, bottles, strollers, crying in the middle of the night… And what about our nights? What would happen to the three of us? Would there even be room for me in their lives as their lover anymore?
Because we all knew I didn’t want to be a nanny forever. What kept me, the reason I really stayed, was because I loved Ronnie and TJ and my life with them. Being
“the nanny” was just convenient, for all of us. I could write while Beth was in school, then pick her up and make her a snack, supervise homework and get dinner started, all before Ronnie got home from teaching. TJ was always the last home, but he made it most nights for dinner.
And then, after Beth was asleep, we’d all huddle under a blanket on the couch and watch a movie, or sometimes we’d play games or read our books or do something on our laptops, and usually two or three nights a week, I’d end up in their bed, at least for a while.
It was a good routine, one we’d fallen easily into over the past couple years. Was that all going to change now?
“Knock-knock.”
I startled at the sound of the little voice piping up behind the shower curtain and then heard the unmistakable sound of Beth peeing.
“Who’s there?” I gave her the perfunctory response.
“Interrupting cow.”
Oh boy. This one again. The kid had a thing for knock-knock jokes lately.
“Inter—”
“MOO!” She poked her head around the curtain, grinning, her hair a dark, cloudy mess around her face.
“Moo right back atcha.” I flicked water at her. She made a face and quickly closed the curtain.
“I want waffles!”
“Did you flush and wash?” I reminded her, grabbing the shampoo.
“And bacon. And sausages. And Pop-Tarts. Strawberry ones. With pink sprinkles.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t interrupting pig at the door?” I lathered my hair, wincing as the water turned colder when she flushed and turned on the sink.
“OINK!” she agreed, peeking around the shower curtain again. “Can I have waffles?”
“Eggos?” I asked hopefully.
“Not homemade?”
I turned off the shower and opened the curtain. She had such a pretty pout-
which was probably why she usually got just what she wanted.
“I don’t think we have time for homemade.” I grabbed the towel I’d left on the counter and wrapped it around myself.
“But it’s Saturday!” she protested.
Tell me about it, I thought. “I know. But your mom’s taking us to see paintings today.”
Beth slid up onto the counter and watched me wrap another towel around my hair. “Do they have cows in them?”
I laughed. “Some of them do.”