We were off to a scintillating beginning. I could tell we were going to be great friends. Not. She never left off from her potato scrubbing or offered another word. I had a chance to study her a bit. If I thought Renny and I looked awkward as a couple I could never imagine becoming a peer of this very young woman. How old was she, I wondered. Reade was the same age as Renny, 38, but Claire couldn’t be older than 25. I’m sure she gets regularly carded at every venue they play.
I don’t know why this hadn’t occurred to me. I did see her pictures. She looked young, yes, but everyone looks older holding a baby. Here, in person, I got to see just how young she was. I was going to have nothing in common with her. Less even than the bimbos Garrett hung out with.
Men routinely marry much younger than themselves and no one thinks much of it. Their age difference, though not as wide as ours, rivaled Renny and me. He had to be 13, 14 years older. Of course he was a man, and a musician, so he couldn’t be accused of being much more mature than her, I thought. Men don’t mature as fast as women so marrying a younger woman made more sense than … more sense than Renny and me.
I sat down on a stool at the kitchen counter. There were moments like these, moments when the sheer unlikeliness of our relationship hit me like a ton of bricks. Reade and Renny were identical twins, yet they had picked such disparate partners. How could that be? And if I thought Reade was immature what was I saying about Renny? Was it all about sex? Even for me? Was Renny just my boy toy?
I jolted myself up from sitting. I had to stop thinking about all this and get through the week. One day at a time. Wise words.
“Can I help you?”
“Do you know how to tournee potatoes?”
“Tournee? Potatoes? I know what a potato is. That’s one in your hand, right?”
She smiled but looked a little disappointed. “Never mind.”
“I’m so sorry to be so useless. You need anything written?”
“Ask me in an hour or so, I may need an opening argument for my upcoming murder trial.”
I laughed. She had a quick wit. Maybe we could find common ground.
“Which one? Reade? Renny? Ruth?”
“Jonathan. At least today.”
“Uh-oh, where is he, maybe I can help out there.”
“Follow the smell of alpaca poop.”
“Oh shit!”
“Exactly.”
Now that she mentioned it there was a nasty odor flirting with the other, more pleasant ones. A little Eau d’apalca poop. Great. I bet Ruth had gone ballistic.
I followed my nose and it led me to a small room I hadn’t had a chance to explore the day before. It was my kind of room; comfy, worn couches, a small fire crackling in the fireplace, large windows that looked out on trees. Perfect! It was almost like home, except for the man sprawled on the sofa whose boot bottoms had a strange, brownish tint to them. Oh, and the foul odor. I could do without that on Christmas Eve.
I didn’t want to startle him or cause him to spread any more of his pet waste about the place so I took off my shoes and tip-toed over to him. I gingerly untied first one boot, then the other but I couldn’t seem to get them off him without a real struggle.
The first one stuck until it didn’t and I went flying across the room, sprawling on the floor. At that moment Ruth entered with a puzzled expression as she saw me unceremoniously splayed across the floor.. I held up the boot in my hand and she smiled. At me! Finally! I had done something right!
She helped me remove the other boot and as we settled Jonathan more comfortably on the couch a trio of women came in with enough cleaning products to stock a warehouse. One woman took the boots from me while the other two fell to the carpet and began spraying, scrubbing and making things all sparkly again.
Ruth took an afghan from the closest chair and spread it over Jonathan. She then pointed to the door and I followed her out into the hallway.
“Let him sleep. He’s less trouble that way.”
I noticed, or rather, didn’t notice, her walker anywhere. She was walking on her own and I wondered if she would regret it later. It wasn’t my place to say anything so I didn’t. See? I can be taken to nice places sometimes.
“I was looking for you Rachel. You did say you would look after Claudine, didn’t you?”
“Well, actually ...”
“That is great. Follow me.”
Walker or no walker, that woman could book it. I was hard-pressed to keep up with her as she twisted and turned into the part of the house I hadn’t seen. I soon realized we were parallel to the pool and just how close to these windows Renny and I –and Garrett –had been last night. I felt a rash spreading across my face. What must this woman think of me? That I seduced her little boy and made him pleasure me morning, noon and night? Then I had suggested a threesome with two of her sons. Jezebel was not a strong enough word. I was surprised she wanted me anywhere near her precious granddaughter.
We ended in a small sitting room so completely removed from the main hall I wished I had dropped bread crumbs so I could find my way back. In the corner was a small crib and in it was a screaming baby. A terrified looking Reade was doing his best –which wasn’t very good it appeared –to calm the baby down but the baby was clearly winning this battle.
Ruth went right to him, sniffed around the pink, squealing baby butt. “For goodness sakes, did you check her diaper? She smells like those damn alpalcas.”
Great.
Reade turned to his mother and then me with big, sorrowful, completely useless man eyes.
Ruth made a disparaging noise at Reade before grabbing the baby from him and shoving her into my arms.“You are useless. How did I ever raise such a useless child? I blame your father.”
“Dad didn’t change diapers either Mom. It’s just not in our DNA.” Not in mine either, I wanted to shout!.
“Um….” I started to object but Ruth just showed me where the diaper bag was and whisked Reade out with her. He, at least, had the decency to look back and say thanks. His relief was palpable.
I must confess something. I have never changed a diaper before. Never. At one time in my life I had considered it as sort of a sideline career but since I had so much trouble conceiving I thought God was likely telling me something. Who am I to question the wisdom of the Almighty?
I must also confess that I don’t like children. I know I said it before but it is worth repeating. Also that the only thing worse than a child is a baby child. I do not find them worthwhile. They contribute nothing to the conversation and a baby has never made considerable inroads to curing anything.
But here I was, face to face with a very, very unhappy little girl. Wow. I had no idea of the decibel level a baby can aspire to. To say my sense of smell and hearing were the only senses affected would belittle the bile rising from my foodless stomach and the slipperiness in my shaking hands. Also, I had a feeling my sight was soon to be assaulted as well.
Buck up Drake! How hard can it be? I was sure Reade was feigning incompetence to get out of a dirty chore. It’s an old man trick and I had seen it before, and not just in old men. It reminded me of a college boyfriend who had shrunk my gorgeous silk sweater (that he had given me for Christmas, no less) to the size of a Barbie doll sweater the one and only time I insisted he do the laundry. I never asked him again and I am convinced he knew exactly what he was doing. When I asked him to replace the sweater he told me it was my fault for making him do laundry in the first place. I guess men have not changed all that much in the ensuing 30 years. Someone had even invented a name for this behavior; learned helplessness. Helpless my ass. Crafty, sneaky and lazy is more like it.
I looked for a place to lay the slithering heap of hiccups down so I could commence the grossness of changing her diaper, but everything in the room was too nice. I finally just laid her on the floor on a towel I grabbed from the en suite bathroom. I wondered why she hadn’t worn herself out by this time but I realized that if she had a true Taylor lung capacity this could be a l
ong day for me.
I opened the soggy onesie and the smell hit me like a ton of … manure. Alpaca manure. Had they been feeding her the alpaca food? It was… beyond belief. She was so little, how could she make such a powerful odor.
In the diaper bag I found some wipes, creams, a whole bunch of crap. Okay Drake, I girded my loins and removed the diaper. The baby was covered in poop. She had clearly been sitting in it and squishing it all over her chubby little body while she screamed. Didn’t this give kids anal fixation or something? I started to get really angry with Reade. This was close to abuse if you ask me. Poor little thing. Having pity for her helped me complete the task at hand as competently as I could.
Suffice it to say it took me a while, a long while to complete the transformation from poop-carrier to human child but I did do it. I scraped, I wiped, I anointed, I powdered, I pinned, I swaddled and I needed a drink.
I finished picking up the mess that was strewn all over the room just in time for the little darling to make a mighty farting noise and poop all over again.
You have got to be kidding? This is what I signed up for? All frickin’ day? Nothing was worth this, not Renny, not acceptance, not being ‘nice’, not the most fantastic sex on the planet. Okay, maybe that last one.
* * * * * * * * * *
The good news? I got pretty good at the diaper thing. The bad news? That baby is nothing but a pooping machine.
Nobody had mentioned relieving me of duty so I had no idea what time it was before Claire actually made an appearance. She seemed so happy with her little squirmy Winston Churchill look alike. There must be something that happens to women when they give birth. They either gain the patience of saints or lose the last of their minds. Hard to tell which with Claire since she acted like I didn’t exist. No thanks for watching her baby or thanks for cleaning up so much shit, nothing. Fine, I thought, if I’m invisible I’ll be just that, and I slipped out the door just as she was allowing her child to attach itself to her body and suck the life out of her.
I closed the door quickly but silently and had a case of the shudders. For the first time in my life I actually thanked God for what I had once thought was a tragedy. Sometimes I think there is a greater intelligence who has my back. I might have thought I wanted children but I was told No, not for you little lady, you do not have the proper disposition for raising children. Why don’t you go to the blazing hot desert and write about death and destruction, you’ll find it easier to do.
And I did.
7.
I twisted and turned until I found myself outside. I did my best to stay away from the house, and any screaming, poopy babies, for the rest of the morning. I didn’t even try to find Renny and I had no idea what he was up to. I was trying to save my sanity. It was everyone for themselves at this point. I didn’t want to be sent back to baby purgatory.
The house and grounds started to fill around noon and there were so many people it was ridiculous. I have been entrenched with smaller platoons. I got the feeling that the family was so large even they couldn’t keep track of each other.
I finally found Renny out in back playing Ping-Pong. He was losing terribly to a small girl. She looked to be around ten years old, with long, long, thick, wild black hair and a fiery expression. He waved at me and in so doing missed another ball. This girl was taking no prisoners.
I found a lawn chair to settle in and watch. The duo was attracting quite a crowd, including Reade who was doing his best to thwart his twin brother.
“Go for the throat Rosalie,” he shouted at the little girl who took a moment to smile at Reade. Clearly he was an object of affection for her. She paid dearly for her crush since Renny slammed one right by her. The crowd roared its disapproval but he flipped them off which created a whole new uproar. It was hilarious.
Rosalie turned back to the game with a furious scowl and hunkered down to play. She quickly won the next two volleys. At first I thought Renny was letting her win. Nope. She was beating him fair and square, and he was good. She was just better. Light on her feet, quick, eyes darting to and fro and she seemed to know just what his every move would be.
She slammed the last one right past him on to the very tip of the back right corner and threw down her paddle, jumping up and down. This was the first time she had a childlike expression. She ran into Reade’s arms who spun her around as they screamed together. Renny ambled over to me and dropped to the grass, head shaking from side to side.
“I don’t know how she does it,” he said. I rubbed his head like a fuzzy doggie and murmured condolences.
Reade brought Rosalie over to meet me and to shake Renny’s hand.
“You owe me five bucks,” she said to him, holding out her hand.
“You bet her,” Reade guffawed, “what an idiot!”
“Yeah, why don’t you take her on then,” Renny said as he pulled a five from his pocket and handed it to Rosalie. She promptly put it down her dress into what could only be a training bra. The little hustler.
“Hi, I’m Rachel,” I put out my hand to her.
She looked me up and down but didn’t take my hand. “I know who you are,” she announced, “You’re Renny’s old girlfriend.”
Conversation stopped. People looked amused, embarrassed and aghast. From the mouth of babes. I just looked at her, eye to eye, woman to woman and replied, “Actually, I’m his new girlfriend. Good game Rosalie.”
“How do you know my name?” Suspicious little thing.
“How do you know about me?”
“Everyone’s talking about it, how Renny has this new girlfriend who is old enough to be …”
Renny hopped up, “That’s enough out of you imp, take your winnings and go con someone else.” He patted her on the head, she smiled at him, turned to scowl at me and then trotted off looking for another victim, I suspected.
“She’s charming,” I said, sarcastically. “Now who did she remind me of?”
“She’s a brat. Her mother died two years ago and her grandfather lets her run wild.”
“Poor thing, where’s her father?”
“Who knows?”
“Oh.”
“Don’t feel sorry for her Rachel, it won’t do either of you any good. She’s got tough blood in her and she’ll be fine.”
I watched as she engaged a teen boy to play Ping-Pong. I felt sorry for him.
Renny pulled me to my feet and gave me a big, sloppy, in front of everyone, kiss. Again, there was a cessation of noise around us but I am never very aware of my surrounding when Renny’s got his tongue in my mouth, exploring my dental work. God, he tasted good.
He smiled at everyone and took my hand. We walked away from the crowd towards the stable. I hadn’t had a chance to see what was in the stable but I have always loved horses so I was keen to investigate. Renny had promised me a ride at some point.
The place was immaculate but nothing can disguise the smell, the intoxicating smell, of horses. There were four, all housed in beautiful pens with their names engraved above them. Renny leaned into a bucket and brought out four apples, handing me two.
We stopped at the first one, a smaller bay named Tilly. Renny put out an apple to her and she curled back her lips to take it. She was so gentle and quite beautiful.
“Tilly here’s the grandma. We’ve had her forever. She was Garrett’s when he was little but I learned to ride on her too. She never took to Reade, don’t know why.”
We moved to the next stall. A chestnut mare waited for us there, named Abigail. “This is Reade’s girl. Go ahead and give her the apple. I want her to take to you since she’s who you’ll ride tomorrow.’
Tomorrow! All I had to do was make it through the rest of the day without suicide or homicide interceding and I’d get to ride this gorgeous animal! I gave her the apple which she took without a qualm and I rubbed her nose as she munched. She eyed me with her enormous, brown eyes and she seemed to like what she saw. So did I.
On the other side of the barn was another ma
re, this one almost pure white and bigger than the others. Her name was Felicia. Renny had me feed her too before telling me she was their Mother’s horse but only Garrett rode her now.
Finally, we pulled up to a stall with no head poking out. The name above was Bastard. Must be a male.
“Come here you bastard,” Renny growled as he held out the apple. From the dark corner came a pure black stallion, huge and scary as hell. He snorted, pawed the ground as though he would rush us before walking forward to grab the apple from Renny’s hand.
He retreated before I could touch him but Renny whistled and he came forward for him to touch his nose.
“This guy is mine. Dad told me he was a bad choice but I insisted. He cost twice as much as any of the others because he came from a champion bloodline.”
“He’s a racehorse?”
“Hell, no. They tried to train him but he just threw everyone to the ground. That’s why we could afford him.”
“But he’s a thoroughbred?”
“They all are.”
I knew so little about horses I was embarrassed. I grew up in Los Angeles. We rode my friend Karen’s horses along the drainage ditch. I’d never galloped or run but at least I wasn’t scared of them. Of course Karen had two small plodding mares, nothing like this monster. How like Renny to want an unrideable horse. Or an inappropriate girlfriend. Everything had to be hard. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of Renny’s harsh regimen. I also wondered why he felt he had so much to prove and who was he proving it to? His Father? His mother? Himself? I’d always felt that way too but as an only child, and a girl, I felt I knew my reasons for overachievement.
I moved back to Abigail and was stroking her nose, neck and mane. I could almost hear her purring like a cat at my touch. Now, this is the horse for me. As I nuzzled her nose Garrett popped in. “Stop trying to find places to consummate you two,” he said to Renny. “Everyone’s ready to play. Get your asses out here.”
Garrett disappeared sure Ren would follow. Older brothers. Really. He wasn’t wrong, though. Renny lit up like the Christmas tree in the front room.
His Other Woman: A Renny and Rachel Christmas Romance Page 4
