As a single father I find I'm stuck at home all too often. Not that I begrudge it, I love my children. They're a constant joy to me. But it is nice to get out on the occasional night for some me time.
When I do get a rare night out I have a baby-sitter in. Naturally. You can't leave the little monkeys alone and expect to still have a house when you get back. Kerry is my normal baby-sitter. She's been coming around for a couple of years now. I expect that she's going to retire from baby-sitting soon. She's turned eighteen and has a proper job so the part-time money from sitting will no longer appeal.
When Kerry fronted up for my latest night out she seemed different. Normally she is full of bounce and cheer, but this time she was quieter, almost despondent in her attitude. I thought of trying to jolly her along a bit to see if I could cheer her up but decided to leave well enough alone. It wasn't really any of my business and as long as she could handle the kids with no problems I should just butt out.
She seemed to cheer up a little when the kids tackled her and shortly after that I kissed the kids goodbye and headed off.
I had an enjoyable time, catching up with a few old friends. It was pushing midnight when I finally got back home. I wandered into the front room and there was Kerry, curled up in a ball in one of the armchairs, sound asleep. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. I sighed and gave her a gentle shake to wake her.
She hopped up pretty smartly, embarrassed to being caught both asleep and crying. I gave her a nice easy smile.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked. "I may not be able to help but I can listen. Sometimes it helps just to be able to talk about it. It might even let you make up your own mind about things."
She looked at me and tried to smile, shaking her head.
"No, I'm fine," she said, and the tears were welling up in her eyes again.
I reached out and tugged her towards me, just holding her. She pushed against me for a second, then leant against me, sniffling as she fought back her tears.
All I wanted to do was give her a little comfort, but I wouldn't have been human if I hadn't noticed what an attractive armful she made. I rubbed lazy circles on her back while she snuggled against me, seeking a bit of comfort. Then she began to talk.
It was the standard story. She had a boyfriend. He pointed out that she was eighteen, and he was horny, so she should attend to his needs. If she really loved him she would do it. But she wasn't ready to go that far with him. Upshot was he found someone who would. And denied it, as he wanted her in bed as well.
As she talked I could feel her attitude firming up. Her boyfriend was an asshole and she'd be damned if she was going to let him badger her and walk over her. He could get stuffed and she'd find another boyfriend. Not all men were arrogant assholes.
"Most of us are," I pointed out, and she gave a muffled snort and thumped me on the chest.