Nanny with Benefits

by Amy Brent

  Really, he had two puppies that adored Max.

  “Already got the pizza ordered,” I said.

  “I got the game on the channel and a bed prepared for Max and the puppies. You know they’ll curl up to him when he goes down for his nap.”

  “Thanks for having us both over,” I said.

  “No worries. Max is always welcome here, and that nanny of yours deserved this weekend off.”

  “No fucking joke. Come on. I’m sure we’re missing pregame interviews.”

  We settled onto his couch while Max rolled around on the floor with the puppies. By the time nap time rolled around, his stomach was full of pizza, and he was asleep right there on the hardwood floor. The puppies were curled up beside him as he snored lightly, and all I could do was smile. If there was one thing in this life I did right, it was having that boy. He was my world. The thing that kept me going throughout the week. The one thing in this world that kept my head above water when it felt like I was drowning.

  “Want me to just throw a blanket over him?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah. I think he’s using one of the puppies as a pillow,” I said.

  “Well, they’re all asleep, so I don’t think they give a shit,” he said.

  The game was a blowout. Michael and I kept our cheers to a minimum while Max and the puppies slept, but things got loud once they were awake. Max kept cheering with us and clapping every time someone threw the ball, and during the commercial breaks, I took out my phone to check my schedule for the week. I felt it buzzing on my hip all afternoon, so I decided to go ahead and make sure nothing was happening. A few emails here, a couple of reminders to call in prescriptions refills, and a change to my schedule.

  “Melissa Conway,” I said.

  “New patient?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah. Four o’clock tomorrow,” I said. “Probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

  “Well, she’ll just be a patient we don’t talk about from now on.”

  Melissa.

  Of course her name had to be Melissa.

  “You okay, Black? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What, you know her or something?”

  “Nah. Not a Melissa Conway.”

  “But you do know a Melissa. Triggering memories?” he asked.

  “Stop shrinking me. Yes. A Melissa Jenson back in high school.”

  “Oh, touchy, touchy.”

  “Can it, Michael.”

  “Can it! Can it! Can it!”

  Max began to chant, and I couldn’t help laughing. Michael settled into the couch as the game came back on, and Max crawled up into my lap. He curled into my chest and watched the game, yawning with his full stomach as the clock crept closer and closer to ten o’clock.

  “If you guys need to slip out, you’re good,” Michael said.

  “We’ll sit here for a bit and then head out,” I said.

  It was moments like this that were fewer and far between with Max. I wanted to cherish this time together while I could before the moment had to be wrecked with getting home. It seemed as if Max wanted less and less to do with me, and I knew that was because I wasn’t at home all the time.

  I wanted to make sure he knew I was present with him whenever I got the chance.

  “I love you, buddy,” I said.

  “Love you, Daddy,” he said, yawning.

  Chapter 6

  Melissa

  Today was the day I would see Brandon. I was rushing around, trying to get Sarah ready and myself ready. I’d overslept my alarm because I’d spent most of the night crying myself awake, and then I’d lay there and worry about seeing him again. Everything in me screamed to cancel the appointment and to make one with another doctor. I knew my general practitioner meant well, and I’m sure he’d be glad to put in another referral for me if I just called and told him what I was going through, what I was feeling, and that I had a history with this world-renowned doctor.

  But, Ava did have a point. He had quickly forgotten about me when he went off to college, so who was to say he’d even know who I was now? I looked much different than I did when I was eighteen. My skin sagged a little more, and my eyes were a little duller. I had a few more wrinkles than I was willing to admit to, and I didn’t dress with the confidence I once did when I hit college. My voice wasn’t as light and airy. It was heavy with regret and sorrow.

  Even I could hear all of that when I talked to people.

  “Mommy?”

  “Coming, Sarah. I’ve got to get your lunch packed.”

  I threw things into a brown paper bag as I tried to get my heels on my feet. My skirt was still crooked, and my shirt wasn’t tucked in. I’d have to try and sort it out in the car while I was driving because I had to get her to school before they closed the doors.

  I didn’t have time to fill out the school’s late student paperwork. I had plenty of work I had to accomplish before my appointment this afternoon.

  I piled us into the car, and we raced across town. I got her through the double doors just as they were closing them, and I blew a kiss to her before she took Logan’s hand. Ava’s son had been standing at the door waiting for her, and I smiled as they walked hand in hand back to their classrooms. I was elated that Sarah had a friend she could open up to. She had always been such a quiet child. I felt guilty for that, for never socializing her before now. She obviously had a heart to be around other people.

  I just didn’t.

  I ran back to my car as I stuffed my blouse into my skirt. I looked at my reflection in the shining surface of my car as I fluffed my hair one last time. Then I threw my jacket on around my shoulders and zipped it up. I’d woken up chilled, probably from the nerves of what was to come today, and I raced into work without an ounce of caffeine in my system.

  Luckily, Ava had a large cup of coffee sitting for me on her desk as I walked by.

  “Holy crap, thank you so much,” I said.

  “Not so fast,” Ava said. “Stand and talk.”

  “I can’t. I’m running behind,” I said.

  “Just five minutes. Your boss hasn’t walked in yet. He won’t know,” she said.

  “Ava.”

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  My mind swirled with that question. I knew he wouldn’t recognize me, and somehow that just made me more furious. I felt my neck turning red as I thought about how I’d felt about him. How my grief had pushed me into the arms of my late husband. How Brandon had ripped from me the love I wanted only to drive me into the arms of a different kind of love that was eventually ripped from me too. Tears of anger crested my eyelids and Ava’s hand came down onto my forearm. I turned my misty gaze toward her as I drew in a shaky breath.

  “I’m feeling so many things,” I said.

  “Then put this ex business out of your mind. It didn’t work, and that happens. We all have that guy that got away. Even I do, but we can talk about that later. Right now, I think you need to start with talking about Carl,” she said.

  “I don’t think I can talk about my husband with him.”

  “But you have to. Because honestly, Melissa, I don’t think you ever coped with it.”

  I closed my eyes as I heard the crunching of the metal. I could remember the horn of the truck blaring as Carl raced through the yellow light. Had I not taken so long to get ready. Had I just stuck with the first outfit I’d tried on.

  Had we gone to see a different movie.

  “Start with that and see how you feel,” Ava said, “and after this session, if it still feels weird, just call and get another psychiatrist. This is for you, not for your past but for your ability to progress forward with your daughter.”

  “I can do that,” I said as I swallowed hard.

  “You have to do that,” she said.

  Even with the talk I had with Ava, I was still counting the seconds. The moment three thirty ticked over on my laptop, my boss came knocking on my door. He wanted to make sure I didn’t forget my appointment. I packed up and trudged down
to my car, getting one last hug from Ava before I headed to the doctor’s office. I had the paperwork in a little file I was going to take in with me, and with every step I took, I grew more and more nervous.

  Then, the moment finally came. The front desk attendant took my paperwork and looked it over before telling me I could go back. I walked through the door and slowly started down the hallway, reading all the names on the doors.

  Robert Flanagan, Michael Smith, David Coxway.

  Then finally, I came to the door with his name written on it.

  I knocked on the door and heard him say to come in. It sounded just as I remembered it, a bit deeper and a little raspier maybe, but it was still that same rich voice that had murmured beautiful things deep in my ear when I was nothing but a goofy, sheltered teenager in love.

  My trembling hand descended onto the doorknob as I turned to open the door, and the moment I opened it, I watched his reaction. His eyes rose from a notepad on his lap, but the moment his eyes caught mine, I saw the flash of recognition that sent shivers down my spine.

  “Melissa?” he asked.

  He did remember me.

  Holy shit, Brandon Black remembered me.

  I nodded my head, and he stood to his feet. He came over to the door and looked down at me heavily, removing the door from my hand as he ushered me into the room. I heard the door close behind me as I went to sit on a couch in front of his chair, but I was shocked when he sat on the other end of the couch instead of back in his seat.

  “I didn’t think you would remember me,” I said lightly.

  “I could never forget you, Melissa,” he said.

  “It was easy for you to do in college.”

  I could tell my words had hit him hard. He visibly winced, and I knew it was something I probably shouldn’t have said. I promised Ava that I wouldn’t talk about that, that I would address something both of us knew I hadn’t coped with yet.

  The first of many layers that needed to be peeled back.

  I felt my stomach jumping with butterflies. His eyes were still the bright blue I remembered them being, and all of the memories came flooding back to me at once. I watched him reach for his notepad as he began to write something in it, and as my eyes raked over his body, I could see just how much he’d changed. There were muscles pulling at the fabric of his shirt that hadn’t been there before. There was a distance in his eyes that somehow seemed to pull me in as his eyes fluttered over his notepad. His hair was dark and longer than I remembered. Slicked back and shining, just like his skin.

  His beautifully tanned skin looked as soft as the day I’d raked my fingertips down it.

  “Your doctor sent over your file,” he said as he looked up at me, “and while I have some theories as to what might be going on, I’d like to talk with you a little more in depth about what you’re experiencing.”

  “Sounds fair enough,” I said.

  “It says here you don’t sleep well. What causes the sleeplessness?” he asked.

  “Um, I don’t know. Sometimes nightmares. Sometimes I just wake up crying. Sometimes I think I hear Sarah crying in the other room, but she’s not.”

  “Sarah?” he asked as he wrote.

  “My three-year-old daughter.”

  I saw his eyes flicker up to mine, and I could’ve sworn I saw a bit of understanding in them. There was a great deal of concern etched on his face, like he was actually worried about me. But I shrugged it off. It was his job to worry about his clients.

  I couldn’t read into this more than I already was.

  “What are the nightmares about?” I asked.

  “The car accident. The night I lost my husband.”

  And again, his eyes shot up to me.

  “Melissa, I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t be. It happened a couple of years ago. It’s not something that’s fresh,” I said.

  “It’s fresh enough to cause you nightmares that jolt you from a dead sleep. Talk to me about them.”

  I looked at him warily as my hands began to tangle in the excess of my blouse. My mind began to whirl with sights and sounds. Smells and reactions. I felt my skin tingle as my gaze glanced over his shoulder, and I wasn’t even aware I was crying until Brandon pushed a tissue into the palm of my hand.

  His skin brushed against mine, and I drew in a heated breath to try and keep my composure.

  “It’s usually the crunch of the metal that wakes me up. There’s a blaring horn, the scraping of metal, and then me calling out for Carl.”

  “Your late husband,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You were in the car with him during the accident?” he asked.

  “Yes. We were on our way to a movie. Our first actual date after having Sarah,” I said.

  “You carry guilt, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said as I stared out the window.

  “Why?”

  “Because we were late. He ran the yellow light because we were behind. I took too long in the shower. Putting on my makeup. I kept changing outfits. I wanted things to be perfect. Like they were before we had Sarah.”

  “Were you having problems after having your daughter?” he asked.

  “It took me a long time to recuperate from my C-section. Our intimate life had taken a nosedive, and I was exhausted. I put on a bit of weight, and we fought more. His parents took Sarah, so we could have a weekend to ourselves, just the two of us again. I wanted it to be perfect. If I would’ve just fucking stuck with the first outfit …”

  I drew my eyes back to him before I dropped my gaze to my lap. My blouse was sprinkled with tears I didn’t even realize I was crying, and I had to keep my gaze away from Brandon. If I looked at him, even for a second, all I would want to do was throw myself into his lap and sob.

  He stared at me for a while as I gathered myself, and then his beautiful voice hit my ears again.

  “It’s not your fault. What happened.”

  “Yes, it is. Had we not been late, he wouldn’t have felt the need to run the yellow light,” I said.

  “If you really want to place blame, it’s a bit his fault. But it’s also the oncoming car’s fault. Even if the light were yellow, his was still red. Carl was trying to make the light, yes. But that driver was breaking the law. That driver is to blame. Not you,” he said.

  I was tearing the tissue into little squares as I littered his couch with them. He pressed another one into my hand as I ran out of things to tear, and I felt the warmth of his touch against my skin again. I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me, what he still did to me. I wondered if he felt the way I still did or struggled the way I still did. Did he crave me the way I still apparently craved him?

  “Anyway, that’s that,” I said as I drew in a long breath.

  “It says here you’re taking things to try and help you sleep. Doesn’t sound like many of those are working,” he said.

  “Not really, though sometimes I forget to take them,” I said.

  “There’s a question I want to ask that your general physician didn’t,” he said.

  “All right. Ask away,” I said.

  “Are you having suicidal thoughts?”

  “No. Not for a second,” I said.

  “You have to be honest with me, Melissa. I can’t help you if you’re not,” he said.

  “I have thoughts about falling asleep and not waking up, just sleeping until my body finally repairs itself. Waking up better. Not hurting so much. Waiting until my joints no longer swell and creak with every movement I make. Wake up when the sun is brighter and colors are more vibrant. I want to wake up but after the hard part is done.”

  “You’re tired,” he said.

  “So very tired,” I whispered.

  I sank back into his couch as I simply stared in my lap. For the first time in years, I felt oddly relaxed. I simply sat there and closed my eyes, allowing my mind to go wherever it wanted. I saw Carl on our wedding day as I walked down the aisle. I saw the OR as I list
ened to Sarah cry for the first time. I listened to my parents yelling at me as I packed my bags and headed off to college, screaming that I’d never be welcomed back if I left.