“Great, I can pick them up in an hour.” Maureen glanced at her watch. “Same old place?”
“Yep, same old place.” Carrie smiled. “It was good to see you, Maureen.”
The kids couldn’t sit still the entire ride home. They couldn’t talk about anything but the fair and playing with the Holmes’ kids. I helped Mrs. B pack an overnight bag for each of them.
“Gretchen, are you okay with them going?” she asked as we carried the bags downstairs, putting them on the kitchen table.
The kids were out back, working on their sand village. They build one every year, and it got more and more elaborate. This year, there was a castle with a moat.
“I know they didn’t treat you very well.” She went to the refrigerator to get a wine cooler. “But she is an old friend.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. B.”
“Will you please start calling me Carrie?” She brought two wine coolers over to the table, handing me one.
“Sorry,” I apologize for forgetting-again-about her request. “Um, I shouldn’t be drinking this, should I?”
“One wine cooler won’t hurt you.” She winked, clinking her glass with mine. “We’ll be without kids for the night. Well, almost. And Holly’s finally started sleeping through.”
I took a swig from the bottle, loving the fruity burn down my throat.
“We were really close once, you know,” she told me.
I nodded. I knew just how close they’d been.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She was engaged to James at the time. The man she’s married to now. For a while, I thought they might break up. That she might… I don’t know, break free of that life?”
“Yeah.” I remembered when my aunt had joined the church, how gradual the slide was into crazy, until before you knew it, the person you once knew didn’t exist anymore.
“I don’t mean to be judgmental.” Mrs. B drank her wine cooler, looking out the back sliding door at the water. “If she was happy, I’d think it was wonderful for her. I have nothing against religion or spirituality. But… does she look happy to you?”
“Oh, I know she isn’t.” I shook my head. “She’s a very angry, bitter person.”
“That just makes me sad.” Mrs. B sighed. “Do you think they’ll be okay with her?”
“Oh, they’ll be fine.” I waved her concern away. “There will be some sort of pressure to convert, there always is. At every gathering, there’s a preacher who does a call up to the pulpit for the unsaved to accept Jesus into their hearts and all that. But Janie and Henry are old enough to know their own minds. And thankfully, they’ve had your influence. They’ll be fine. And they’ll have a blast at the fair. It is a lot of fun.”
“It broke my heart, the way they treated you.” Mrs. B frowned. “I can’t even imagine, firing a girl in her twenties for suspecting she was sexually active? What did they think, you were going to be a nun?”
“No premarital sex allowed.” I tipped my wine cooler up, taking another drink. “No non-procreational sex actually.”
“Really?” She hesitated, licking the top edge of her wine cooler bottle, her tongue a soft, velvet pink. The sight of it made my ass clench. If there was a God, I was going to hell for what I was thinking about her.
“I don’t think they have sex at all anymore.”
She gaped at me. “I can’t even imagine…”
“I can’t either.” I snorted. “You know, Mrs. B…”
She raised her eyebrows, tipping her bottle at me, and I remembered.
“Carrie…” I corrected myself. “You and Doc have been so good to me. I can’t even thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
“You don’t have to thank us, Gretchen.” She reached over, touching my hand, taking it in hers. “The kids love you. We love you. You’re part of our family, you know.”
“Thanks. That means a lot. I love you guys too.” My God, if she only knew how much. “It just… it really hit home, after seeing her again. I could still be there, in that house, living with that. It wasn’t easy.”
“I know, you haven’t had it easy.” Mrs. B squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself.” I shrugged. “I count my blessings, and I’m glad I’m here with you. I just want you to know that I won’t… I won’t do anything to jeopardize this. It’s important to me. With the Holmes’ it was just a job. This is more than just a job to me.”
“Gretchen, you’re more than just a nanny to us,” she assured me, leaning closer. Her cleavage was showing, her blouse undone three delicious buttons. “And there will be a time, soon, when we can be… more than just friends. More than just family.”
I felt her knee touch mine under the table and shivered. We both knew what she meant.
“I hope so.” I swallowed, daring to say it. Daring to say her name and mean it. “I love you, Carrie.”
“Oh sweetheart, I love you too.” She smiled, lifting my hand and kissing my palm, closing it around her kiss. “More than you know.”
Mrs. Holmes picked up the kids, as promised, about an hour later. They were literally bouncing off the walls by that time. Henry was actually careening like a pinball around the house and he bolted for the door when he heard the knock.
“I didn’t feed them,” Mrs. B said, handing her the overnight bags. “I hope that’s okay?”
“Oh they’ll get plenty,” Maureen assured her. “Corn dogs and elephant ears and all that deep fried awful fair food. They’re not allergic to anything, are they?”
I saw her new nanny, corralling Rebecca and Isaac as they ran around in the yard at the front of the house. She was very plain, brown hair pulled back in ponytail, dark eyes, wearing a long sleeved blouse and long cotton skirt, even in this heat.
“Nope, no allergies,” Mrs. B said. “Go crazy. Do we need to send them with any money?”
“Oh no, guests are free! They’re all set. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Maureen started down the stairs, and then turned back. “And are you sure you don’t want me to take that sweet little baby off your hands? I’m sure you could use the break!”
“No, that’s okay,” Mrs. B smiled. “But thanks for the offer.”
“All right, see you tomorrow.” Maureen waggled her fingers as she made her way down the steps. She was dressed casual, for the fair, in khaki shorts and a white button-down blouse, but she still looked professional, as always.
Mrs. B closed the door behind them, leaning against it meeting my eyes. I was standing in the entryway to the kitchen and she reached for my hand.
“Come with me,” she said.
“Where are we going?” I asked as she pulled me through the kitchen, into the living room and unlocked the back sliding door.
“Doc’s upstairs with the baby.” Mrs. B unbuttoned her blouse, her gaze sweeping me as we stood in the hot sand. “We’re going swimming.”
I watched, stunned, as she took off her blouse, standing there in her bra and shorts. Then, the bra came off too. Her heavy breasts swayed as she unbuttoned her shorts.
“Go on.” She nodded at me. “Take yours off too.”
I pulled off my t-shirt, watching her slide her shorts and panties off together, down those long, tanned thighs, staring at the bare slit between them.
“Come on!” She was already running toward the water, her round ass jiggling, tits bouncing-she was like a reverse Venus, running back into the foamy surf instead of being born out of it.
I stripped down to nothing-I didn’t even hesitate-leaving my clothes with hers in the sand. She was already in up to mid-thigh, but she waited for me. Her eyes brightened as I approached, her gaze moving down to my breasts, then further, down to my pussy.
“Doc told me about that sweet little tuft of hair.” She gave a happy sigh. “But he didn’t do it justice. You are stunning, Gretchen.”