Jared
“I love pizza!” my daughter squeaks, jumping up and down between Marcy and me. “I’m so excited, wheeee!”
Over the top of Vivi’s head, I lock eyes with Marcy. “Thanks for indulging my demanding child,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “Sorry date night ended up being date plus a kid night.”
But my woman merely smiles sweetly, squeezing Vivi’s tiny hand in her own. “Don’t be sorry at all. You know I like hanging out with Vi. Maybe even more than I like hanging out with you,” she says with a mischievous wink. My heart contracts because this woman gets me, and I can’t believe how lucky I am. Marcy and Vivi together? It’s a dream.
We stroll over to a large table in the pizza parlor, flanked by two cozy red booths on either side.
“I want to sit next to Marcy,” Vivi insists, sliding onto one of the large seats.
“Is that okay?” I ask Marcy.
“Better than okay because I wanted to sit next to Vivi too,” Marcy says, sliding into the seat next to my daughter and tickling her lightly on the cheek. Vivi giggles and does another little bounce, and my heart swells at the image of these two showing so much affection for one another. But I don’t dwell on the feeling because I’m not ready to yet. I can feel the ground shifting beneath my feet, but they’re still small tremors at the moment. Yet I know it’s coming, and that something Earth-shattering is going to upend my life as I know it.
But it’s okay because with Marcy by my side, I know I can weather any crazy changes. Besides, how bad could it be? At that moment, a waiter brings over menus, so we turn our attention to dinner.
“Viv, sweetheart, they have your favorite— pepperoni and black olives,” I growls. My daughter squeals, her black pigtails bouncing.
“I love olives! Do you like olives, Marcy?”
The curvy brunette nods enthusiastically. “Yes, definitely. Black olives on pizza are the best,” she agrees. “What do you think about black olives, Jared?” Marcy asks with a wink.
I hold up my hands and wave them defensively. “Not for me, no way. You ladies enjoy them.”
Vivi sighs contentedly. “Black olives for us, and none for Daddy,” she chortles. “Yay! I love you, Marcy.”
Both of us laugh easily because it seems like Vivi says that every time she sees the curvy girl now, but I like it. It makes us feel like a family and it’s very natural too. There’s nothing awkward or uncomfortable about proclaiming our love for one another. And now, looking at the two girls in my life giggling with their heads close together, I know I did the right thing by hiring Marcy.
The waiter materializes at our table-side once more. “Ready to order?” he asks in an eager voice. The poor kid is probably seventeen with a terrible case of acne, but it’s fine. We order a kid’s pizza for Vivi and then decide to split a large one between us two adults—with black olives on the side. Then the server departs, and I smile at my daughter.
“All right, Vi, want to color before the food is here?” I ask before handing the little girl a coloring book and crayons. She settles in excitedly, her little fingers already reaching for the red Crayola. “Here, pop on some music too, if you want.” Then, I help her situate her little pink headphones over her ears and turn on her favorite Disney songs playlist.
“I’m going to color you a picture Marcy!” she exclaims before starting to hum and getting lost in her own little world of the Frozen sing-along.
“Viv really adores you,” I rumble to Marcy.
“The feeling is mutual,” my beautiful babysitter responds lightly. “Besides, who would share olive pizza with me otherwise?” she jests.
I nod.
“You guys are two peas in a pod. But thanks for being a good sport, Marce. I kind of promised myself that after Vivi’s mom and I split that I would make my kid a priority no matter what, and as you’ve guessed, Natasha is pretty absent as a parent. Both before and after the divorce.”
Marcy nods thoughtfully.
“That’s really awful,” she agrees. “Because Vivi is a great kid.”
“Yeah, right?” I nod. “Natasha was just so selfish.”
Marcy fixes me with a look.
“How so?”
I take a deep breath before revealing some of my ex’s bizarre demands.
“Well, she wanted to leave Vi with a nanny for a summer, so we could go to the Hamptons and party. Imagine that. We weren’t going to see our daughter for months.”
“Wow,” Marcy says, truly taken aback.
“I know, right? When I said I wasn’t comfortable with it, Natasha said she’d arrange for the nanny to bring Vivi out for occasional weekends, but again, I put the kibosh on that. Where I go, my daughter goes too,” I say in a firm tone.
Marcy nods.
“It must be hard being a single dad,” she says in a soft voice, shooting a look at my little girl. I grin.
“Well, at least I had that single dads’ Facebook group,” I quip. “What a lifesaver.”
Marcy goes quiet for a moment before lifting those big brown eyes to me.
“Relationships can be really complicated,” she murmurs, slipping one small hand over mine. “I’d never judge whatever happened between you and Natasha.”
My shoulders relax a bit at this statement because I realize I was nervous to bring up my catastrophe of a marriage. After all, Marcy’s young. Baggage like this could turn her off, and suddenly, I know that what the sweet woman thinks matters to me. It’s weird because I’ve only known Marcy since summer began, but she’s become an almost constant presence in my life, and I want to please her. I want her to feel comfortable, and her happiness is paramount to me. I didn’t expect to feel this way about a woman I basically pay to spend time with, but I’m man enough to recognize the signs.
Yeah, but that’s the thing. This isn’t a relationship, it’s just business, the voice in my head warns. Don’t go over the edge, Michaels.
I swat away my conscience for a change.
“Yeah, so my marriage was basically a disaster. What happened was a lot of fighting, a lot of mistrust, and a big disagreement on what matters in life. Natasha wanted my money and I wanted love. We were a terrible match, but we did make a great kid.” I look at Vivi and smile, my heart full of love for my little daughter as she bops her head along to the music, still coloring away.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Marcy murmurs. She squeezes my hand from across the table. “It’s shitty, and it’s shitty for Vi, too.”
I nod. “Yes, but we’re finally getting over it. I’m the full custodial parent, mostly because Natasha didn’t care. But fortunately, my little girl is resilient, and I haven’t noticed Vivi being down about it or anything.”
Marcy nods. “She is resilient. Kids are resilient, Jared. So long as you’re there for her, she’s going to be just fine,” she reassures.
I nod.
“Yeah, that’s what I tell myself,” I sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted by my own drama. “Let’s talk about something lighter,” I grin. “Tell me about something that you like doing in your free time.”
Marcy looks at me curiously.
“Well, I don’t know,” she begins slowly. “I don’t have a lot of hobbies, I guess, and I don’t have a lot of free time either. After all, whatever time I have outside of work, I’m with you,” she winks.
I smile at first, but then frown because it drives me fucking crazy how hard Marcy works. It just doesn’t seem fair that someone so young and beautiful should be stressed out all the time.
“Yes, but what about the money I deposited in your account?” I growl. “That should help, right? Use it for spa treatments. Or at least quit one of your jobs.”
Marcy is quiet for a second.
“I suppose I could, but I guess I enjoy working,” she says. “Especially at the Estee Lauder counter, and you know that some of my babysitting clients have been with me for years, so I can’t leave them high and dry. Don’t worry though,” she says with a smile. “I’ve definitely cut back on my shifts at Sanctum, and I haven’t been with any other men since we were together.”
“Good,” I growl as my blood begins to boil. “No other man touches you while you’re with me.”
“Of course not,” she soothes, her thumb stroking along my palm. “It’s only been you, Jared.
“But what drives you?” I encourage, forcing myself to stay calm. “What gets you going?”
Marcy thinks for a moment.
“I think other people drive me, to be honest. That’s why I like working at the cosmetics counter. I get to meet so many interesting people, and whenever I do complimentary makeovers, a lot of them end up telling me incredible life stories that you wouldn’t believe.”
“Really?” I ask curiously. “Like what? I thought all your customers were either teeny boppers or seventy year old women.”
Marcy smiles.
“Yes, a lot of them are, but the seventy year old ladies are the best. One even confided that she used to be a stripper back in the day,” she giggles. “I kept trying to picture it in my head, but it was tough.”
I stare.
“Seriously? A stripper?”
Marcy nods.
“Yeah, and I think she was serious too. She said that she used to work at O’Farrell’s in San Francisco, which still exists to this day,” Marcy gabs. “But she said she was a high earner not from her dancing skills, but because back then, not a lot of girls got totally nude. However, she’d squat down in her bikini bottoms and pull the gusset away to show men her pussy. That’s how she got the big tips.”
I practically choke on my beer.
“And a seventy year old woman was telling you this?”
Marcy nods.
“Yes, and she said she has ten grandchildren now too.”
At that, I begin howling with laughter.
“Holy shit, I’m going to have to get a job at the Estee Lauder counter too,” I say while gasping for breath. “What a fucking riot!”
“I know,” Marcy giggles. “That’s why I like the job. It’s the people I meet that really make it interesting. Like you,” she says meaningfully. “I met you through both Sanctum and Child Mine.”
I nod. I’m just about to say something in return, but then my words are interrupted by the arrival of the food.
“Viv,” I tap my daughter lightly on the arm to signal that it’s time to put away her coloring and headphones. “Look! Extra black olives, just like you asked for.”
“Yummy!” Vivi exclaims. “Marcy, will you cut my pizza for me?”
“Oh no, Vi, I’ll do it,” I start to interrupt.
Marcy smiles gently before I can move.
“I’ve got it,” she murmurs. “Here you go, Viv.”
“Oh wait, I like littler um… what’s this shape called again?” Vivi holds up her fingers in the shape of a triangle.
“Ah ha, a triangle,” Marcy informs her solemnly. “So, like this?” she holds up a slice of pizza cut into half its size.
“That’s perfect,” Vivi smiles widely, clearly in awe of Marcy. “I wish you could cut up my pizza all the time.” Then, my daughter seizes a piece of pie and takes a huge bite, smacking her lips with enthusiasm.
“Hey what about me?” I ask, feigning like my feelings are hurt. “Don’t I get some?” I give my daughter my best puppy dog eyes and she giggles, tomato sauce dripping out of her mouth.
“No, Marcy likes olives,” Vivi points out, as if that explains everything. “Not like you, Daddy.”
I throw back my head and roar with laughter. “Okay, I think I’m officially being replaced as parent,” I tell my woman good-humoredly. “She definitely prefers you.”
Marcy merely giggles.
“Well, if I knew that all I had to do was provide olives and cut pizza into triangles, then I would have had a kid years ago,” she says with a fond look at my daughter. But that’s when I feel my heart clench once more.
So she wants children, I muse to myself as I busy myself getting a slice. Would she want a baby with me?
Holy fuck, where is this coming from? I just escaped a terrible marriage, and now I’m a single dad, which isn’t exactly the easiest job in the world. And yet, I’m thinking of having another child? My heart races as I try to look normal, taking a bite of my pizza.
But it’s true. As I look at Marcy and Vivi giggling together, the gorgeous woman’s brown curls bounce as she helps my daughter wipe her mouth. Marcy looks like a maternal goddess, and I could easily see that form growing swollen and heavy with a baby inside. Hell, I’d love it if it was my baby. Seeing her waddle around like a hippo, groaning as she sat? Yeah, that would be perfect.
“Something wrong?” the gorgeous woman asks with a gentle smile on her face. “Is the pizza not good?”
I snap back to reality. Holy fuck. I’ve fanaticized in the past about getting Marcy pregnant and making her mine permanently, but I’ve never let myself go too far down that mental road. It was mostly because I always assumed that she was happy with her life, but now, seeing her with my daughter, I’m not so sure anymore.
“No, I’m fine,” I say in a somewhat choked voice before taking a sip of my beer. “Just a little dry, that’s all.”
She nods, and I watch as she and Vivi giggle, clinking their cups in a ‘cheers.’ But then, things get even crazier.
“I can be your kid!” Vivi’s chipper tone interrupts my internal battle. “Can you be my new mommy, Marcy?”
Holy fuck, what is going on? Is the world going insane? The Earth seems to stop turning on its axis for a moment as Marcy and I lock eyes across the table. I’m not sure what my expression must look like, but hers is a mixture of panic, pleasure, and surprise.
“Well, um,” I begin, floundering for an answer. Leave it to kids to speak the unspeakable, I fume to myself. Fortunately, my beautiful babysitter steps in to save me.
“You’re really sweet to ask, hon,” Marcy murmurs. “I love spending time with you, so why don’t we just keep doing that for now?”
Vivi shrugs. “Okay,” she says, completely oblivious to the chaos she’s just caused. “That sounds good.”
“Thank you,” I mouth across the table.
The beautiful woman sends me a quick smile but then doesn’t look at me for the next several minutes, seemingly preoccupied with helping my daughter eat her meal.
Meanwhile, I’m unable to tear my eyes from the domestic scene before me. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Holy shit, is Marcy thinking what I’m thinking? My mind whirls because I’d love to give my gorgeous babysitter a baby for real. But is that what she wants too?