Crazy About the Baumgartners
Read Crazy About the Baumgartners Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age
Table of Contents
Selena loves
hearing from readers!
website:
http://www.selenakitt.com
facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/selenakitt
twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/selenakitt
@selenakitt
blog:
http://www.selenakitt.com/blog
Get ALL FIVE of
Selena Kitt’s FREE READS
GET THESE FREE
READS
A Twisted Bard's
Tale
Hannah's Choice
Sibling Lust: In
the Barn
Connections
Taken
PLUS EXCLUSIVE to
Newsletter Subscribers:
MOXIE
By Selena Kitt
High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be
moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college
boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her
parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into
an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands
and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are
several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far
more trouble than she bargained for!
Doc and Mrs. B have hired a new
au pair and she’s crazy about the Baumgartners.
Poor rejected Gretchen, fired
from her previous job and still licking her wounds from a recent breakup, is
desperately seeking the kind of attention and affection only the Baumgartners
can offer. So why do they seem to thwart her advances at every turn? It isn’t
as if the polyamorous couple has been secretive about their fondness for
threesomes.
Naughty Gretchen makes up her
mind, on their annual trip to the steamy sun and fun of Key West, to show the
Baumgartners just how crazy she is about the both of them.
I
didn’t become a nanny because I loved kids. I wasn’t one of those girls who
started babysitting when I was ten and fell in love with children and decided
to spend the rest of my life playing Mary Poppins. I became a nanny because I
hated school, anything involving retail, and working in fast food. Being a
nanny required that I know how to cook and how to do CPR. Basically, I needed
to know how to keep kids alive.
Sometimes
I thought a monkey could do my job.
Not
that I advertised that fact during interviews.
I’d
been a nanny for five years and had gone through three families, when I finally
found the perfect job. Thank God I found the Baumgartners. Or they found me. I
was crazy about the Baumgartners. They were my favorite people in the world.
And their kids were great, which is something I couldn’t say about the three
families I’d played nanny to before them.
Although
they had their moments.
“Henry
did it!” Janie, who was eleven, blond and blue-eyed like her mother, stomped
into the kitchen where I was making their after school snack—“ants on a
log.” They were just celery sticks spread with peanut butter, raisins dotted on
top, and looked more like turds on sticks to me, but whatever.
“Henry
did what?” I licked peanut butter off the knife and slid it into the sink.
Henry, almost ten, was always doing something to annoy his older sister.
“Look!”
Janie held her ponytail up to me, showing me a wad of gum so big I couldn’t
imagine how anyone even got it in their mouth in the first place.
“Great.”
I sighed, putting the ants and logs on a plate in the middle of the kitchen
table. There was no point yelling for Henry. He was likely out back, hiding in
the tree house his father had built, which is always where he “hid” whenever
he’d done something he knew he might get in trouble for.
So
I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a sobbing Janie, Googling “how
to get gum out of hair” on my iPhone, when the house phone rang. Of course, the
cordless wasn’t on its base where it should have been. I ran through the house,
stopping every few moments when it rang again, trying to pinpoint the sound. I
finally found it buried between the couch cushions, where I also found a wad of
yellow Silly Putty with a penny stuck into it.
“Hello?”
I asked, out of breath, trying to get Silly Putty off my fingers in long
strings.
“Gretchen,
can you stay late tonight?” Mrs. B. sounded just as out of breath as I was. “I
have another couple showings and Doc’s at that conference in New York.”
“Sure.”
I was always amenable to more time—and of course, more money. Besides,
Mrs. B wasn’t as picky as a lot of families I’d worked for. She didn’t mind if
I made a frozen pizza for dinner or let the kids watch TV. As long as homework
was done and no one was on fire, life was good.
“Is
Janie okay?”
I’m
sure she heard her howling in the background.
“She
got gum in her hair.”
“Ugh.
Ice,” Mrs. B said. “Put ice on it. It will get cold and you can chip most of it
out.”
“Thanks.”
I headed for the freezer, grabbing a glass and dispensing ice into it.
“And
you can order a pizza if you want. There’s twenty bucks in the tin. You’ve got
to be sick of cooking frozen ones.”
“Okay.”
It cracked me up how Mrs. B vacillated between wanting to feed them healthy things
like celery and peanut butter and then gave up and ordered pizza.
“I
should be back by nine or ten,” she said. “Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
I sat a tearful Janie down at the kitchen table, pressing the ice against the
glob of gum. She frowned at me, but at least she’d stopped howling. “We’ll see
you then.”
“All
right, thanks, Gretchen. You’re a life saver.” She hung up.
“Your
mom says ice works.” I held my other hand under the ice to catch the drips.
“But… if it doesn’t work… are you okay with me cutting it out?”
“What?”
Janie’s eyes went wide. “Cut my hair?”
“I
think you’d be cute with short hair.” I was trying to set it up, ease her into
the idea, because I had a feeling this much gum plus that much hair was going
to spell a trip to the hair salon tomorrow with her mother. I was just the
nanny, not the Miracle Worker.
“You
think?” Janie sniffed, fingering the end of her ponytail, now wet from the
melting ice.
“Janie,
where’s my goddamned iPod?” Henry stormed into the house, slamming the French
patio doors behind him. “What did you do with it?”
“Bite
me!” Janie snapped. “Look what you did to my hair!”
“Both
of you, watch your mouths.” I sighed, pulling the ice away to find the gum was,
indeed, hardening. “Janie, did you take his iPod?”
“Maybe.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “But he took my eyeliner
and won’t give it back!”
It
was strange to me how, one minute, they could be playing and the best of
friends, and the next minute, they were at each other’s throats.
“Well,
if the iPod doesn’t appear in the next five minutes, I’m going to let you
figure out your gum problem.” I carried the ice over to the sink, tossing it
in. “And if Janie’s eyeliner doesn’t appear in the next five minutes, Henry,
there won’t be any pizza for dinner or watching a movie afterward. You can do
your homework, eat peanut butter and jelly for dinner and go to bed by eight.”
I
turned around and leaned against the sink, arms crossed over my chest, and
looked between the two of them. I wasn’t above bribery, it was true. It
probably wasn’t the best parenting technique in the world, but I wasn’t their
parent. I was the nanny.
“Your
iPod is under the treehouse,” Janie grumbled. “I buried it at the base of the
tree.”
“Here.”
Henry reached into his pocket, handing over the eyeliner. I didn’t even ask why
he took it. Janie wasn’t even supposed to have it, but I didn’t mention that
either. Then he was out the door to find his iPod.
“Okay,”
I said to Janie. “Let’s see what we can do with your hair.”
It
took me almost an hour to get all of it out, and it was still sticky to the
touch, even after we’d washed and conditioned it six times. Janie thanked me
and went to her room to try to brush out the stickiness while I sat at the
kitchen table, eating the untouched ants on a log while I ordered a pizza.
Then
I called Ronnie to tell her I was going to be late.
“Don’t
watch Mad Men without me,” I warned, crunching celery.
“I
won’t,” she promised. “I don’t feel well anyway. I think I’ll just go to bed
early.”
I
frowned. “You don’t sound sick.”
“Stomach
thing,” she said. “Maybe my period coming. I dunno.”
“Awww.
Fill a hot water bottle.” I licked peanut butter off my fingers. “I’ll come
home and rub your belly. I’ll kiss it and make it all better, I promise.”
“I
gotta go,” Ronnie said. “My other line’s ringing.”
I
sighed. “See you tonight.”
Mrs.
B had been asking me to stay late a lot and while I liked the extra cash, I
didn’t like spending so much time away from Ronnie. We were best friends and even
better lovers. And that, well—it had just kind of happened. I’d been with
girls before, but I wasn’t a lesbian. I liked men too much for that. The way
Ronnie and I had come together was kind of just meant to be. At first, it was
just incredible sex and a lot of fun. Now, it was easy, comfortable, and I
loved her dearly.
The
pizza came and I paid for it, setting us up in the family room in front of the
giant 80-inch screen TV with Surround Sound. Janie was freshly scrubbed in PJs
when she came down the stairs. Henry, however, was dirtier than ever from
playing out in the treehouse. I made him wash his hands before sitting down at
the coffee table to eat. We didn’t even bother with plates. We just sat on the
floor and ate out of the box.
The
kids were involved in the movie and after I ate a piece or two of pizza, I
curled up on the couch. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ronnie. Poor thing. I
decided to stop on my way home to pick up some Midol and chocolate. Her
favorite, Toblerone. That would brighten her spirits. She’d sounded so
distracted, like she didn’t even want to pick up the phone.
“Can
we watch another one?” Janie begged. “We did our homework and I’m already
showered!”
“As
long as you promise to shower right after, Henry,” I warned, cleaning up the
pizza boxes, stowing the leftovers in the fridge.
“Scouts
honor!” He gave me the Boy Scout salute and I laughed.
I
was tidying up the kitchen when Mrs. B came in. I glanced at the clock,
surprised. It wasn’t even seven yet.
“You’re
early,” I remarked, hanging the dish cloth over the kitchen faucet.
“The
second couple cancelled.” Mrs. B tossed a briefcase on the table and sat down
in one of the chairs, kicking off her heels. She put her feet up on the table,
wiggling her painted red toes in her pantyhose. She had long, tanned legs.
“Everything go okay?”
“Got
most of the gum out of Janie’s hair,” I reported. “Homework’s done, Janie’s
showered. We ate pizza. The leftovers are in the fridge. They’re watching Once
Upon a Time and Henry promised to shower when it’s over. “
“Thanks
for staying.” She unbuttoned her suit jacket and shrugged it off. Mrs. B wore
gorgeous clothes. Sometimes I went through her closet and a couple times I’d
tried on a few of her dresses. They were just a little big on me. We were about
the same height, but Mrs. B had a more voluptuous figure.
“Not
a problem.” I opened the fridge, taking out two pieces of pizza I’d put in a
separate Ziploc bag. “Do you mind if I take some pizza home to Ronnie?
“Not
at all.” Mrs. B swung her feet off the table to the floor. “How is she?”
“Good.”
I nodded, putting the pizza with my purse on the table. “We’re good.”
“I’m
glad.” She gave me a tired smile, flipping through the mail on the table,
separating out the junk. “Oh, I wanted to ask you. We have friends coming in
early August. They’re flying in from Venice. Do you think you could sleep over,
camp out with the kids?”
“Sure,”
I agreed, watching her open one of the envelopes.
“Oh
my God.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes scanning the page.
“What,
is something wrong?”
“No…
something good!” She brightened, the letter shaking in her hands. “Something
very, very good.”
“What
is it?” I sat down at the table across from her.
“We’ve
been approved as a foster family!” She whispered this, glancing toward the
family room where the kids were still so involved with the show they had no
idea their mother was even home yet.
“That’s…
wow.” I sat back, shocked. Henry and Janie were hitting those tween years and
I’d heard the Baumgartners talking about what they were going to do when the
kids went off the college, so the idea of them taking in foster kids surprised
me. “Amazing. I didn’t even know you applied!”
“I
didn’t want to say much, get anyone’s hope’s up.” She nodded toward the family
room, her eyes bright. “They’re desperate for a little brother or sister.”
“So
you’re going to adopt?” I asked, even more shocked now. Taking in foster kids
was one thing—the Baumgartners were very generous and it made sense they
would want to give back in some way. But adopting another child? That was a
huge commitment. And not even just for them, but for me too.
Mrs.
B. nodded enthusiastically. “I hope so.”
“A
baby?” Of course, I knew what she was going to say.
“Well
who doesn’t love babies?” She smiled, folding up the letter and sliding it back
into the envelope.
“Well,
congratulations,” I said, pasting on a smile. “That’s wonderful.”
“Thanks.”
I
got up to write my hours on a sheet of paper Mrs. B kept on the fridge and there
must have been a break between episodes because the kids came bounding into the
kitchen.
“Mom!”
Janie and Henry rushed in to hug her as I put on my Keds and grabbed the pizza
and my purse off the table.
“I’ll
see you guys tomorrow after school,” I called, heading out the door.
I
stopped at Walgreens on the way home to pick up Midol—I knew we were out,
I’d taken the last of it—a Toblerone for Ronnie and a Reese’s for me. I
didn’t like missing out on the money, but I was glad to be going home early today.
I’d get home in plenty of time for Mad Men. We’d even have time to soak in the
tub together. Then I could spend an hour licking Ronnie’s sweet little pussy
and see how many orgasms I could give her before our show started.
Just
thinking about it made my mouth water and my own pussy clench with need.
I
pulled my Saturn up to our apartment complex, cutting the engine and glancing
up at our apartment. The living room was dark, but the light was on in our
room. Ronnie was probably napping. I’d wake her up like Sleeping Beauty, with a
hot, sloppy wet kiss under the covers. I smiled, grabbing my Walgreens bag and
my purse. I checked the mail—the box was empty, so Ronnie must have
gotten it already—and climbed the stairs to our apartment.
The
door was locked—I got on Ronnie constantly about keeping it locked, even
when we were home. We lived in a nice complex, but there had been a break-in at
the storage center, so you never knew who might decide to try doors and commit
a crime of opportunity. I unlocked it, going into the darkened living room,
shutting the door quietly behind me. I didn’t want to wake her before I got the
chance to
really
wake her.
I
left the Walgreens bag on the kitchen table. There was a night light in the
hallway and I followed its warmth toward our room. Our door was closed almost
all the way, but there was a thin crack of light showing. I smiled, slipping up
to the gap, peeking through in hopes of finding my sleeping beauty.
