It had been a week since Mrs. Kelly had caught her husband and me having sex in their bedroom. So far, there had been no repercussions. Absolutely nothing. The eerie silence was haunting. The entire week, I had been on pins and needles. I couldn't sleep or concentrate on my studies. All kinds of scenarios were swirling in my mind. There was no contact from either of the Kellys. I had no idea what this meant. Was that it? Would I never hear from them again? I should be so lucky. I wish that I had gone out of town for college, away from this shitstorm.
"April, are you going over to the Kellys' tonight?" My mom asked as I walked into the kitchen for a snack. I tried not to let my panic show as I grabbed the yogurt I wanted. The first thought I had was, 'Did she know?'
"No, they didn't need me this week," I lied as I got a spoon.
My mom frowned. "That's weird. I swear you've gone over there almost every Saturday night for the past four months."
I shrugged. "Guess they're staying in this week."
I quickly scrambled to my room before my mom could ask any more questions. I had no idea how I was going to explain that I'd never be babysitting for Kelly's again.
Mrs. Kelly and my mother were close friends. They confined in each other, so I knew the story would eventually come out. Damn! The more I thought about it, the worse it felt. My older sister got kicked out of the house at sixteen. I wonder if her fling with Mr. K had something to do with it. My future looked gloomy. I was terrified of the consequences if my parents found out.
The night Mrs. Kelly walked in on us, I'd run out of there as quickly as I could, sprinting home. I was terrified that Mrs. Kelly was going to come after me. I had these visions of her hunting me down and taking out her pain on me, after all, I did deserve it and more. I expected that Mrs. Kelly would've screamed at me, but she didn't. I couldn't understand why she didn't. Maybe she reserved all her rage for her husband. Or worse yet, she was in shock, and now that she had time to digest everything that she saw, she was working on a revenge plan. Yes, my mind was racing. I even made room under my bed in case I needed a place to hide.
'Not again.' That's what Mrs. Kelly said to Mr. K. that night. Did she somehow know already? Had Mr. K spilled the beans but swore to his wife it was only a one-time thing? I didn't know, and at this point, I didn't want to know. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed. Although I knew that one day we would get caught, I was still not prepared. It nevertheless came as a shock.
===========
A few days later, as I was walking to the bus stop, Mrs. Kelly's car pulled up next to me.
"April," she called, rolling down the window. "Can we talk?"
I nervously glanced at her and started walking even faster. She easily kept up with me in the car.
"It's okay, April," she said softly. "I'm not angry with you. I'd just like to talk. Get in. I'll drive you to school."
I stopped and shot her an anxious look. Her face appeared calm and genuine. Not the raging, revengeful, scorned wife that I was expecting. Was she trying to trick me into getting in the car, only to kill me in a jealous rage?
"Get in," she insisted. "Please don't make me tell your mother."
Damn it. Well, I'd rather be stabbed in the eye than have my parents know, so I reluctantly got into the car.
"Look!" I said. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't even know what to say, except..."
"You don't have to apologize April," she said softly as she drove down the street.
This threw me off completely. "What do you mean?"
"April, you're just out of high school, and my husband is a grown man. All the blame is on him." She calmly said.
"Oh," I said quietly, not sure if I should believe her or not. I hung my head low, but I still kept an eye on her in case she pulled out a gun or knife. Yeah, I had visions of her driving me somewhere deep into the forest and getting rid of my body.
It somehow made me feel worse that she wasn't putting some of the blame on me. I was more than willing to accept my share of the blame.
"This isn't the first time he's done this," Mrs. Kelly said. "You're the fourth babysitter he's had sex with, well, as far as I know."
I'd had this strange, sinking feeling in my stomach. Now I suddenly felt like crying. "What?"
"When our first child was born, we had a full-time nanny," she said. "She was young but older than you, in her mid-twenties. After a few months, I caught them together. He swore it meant nothing, and I believed him." She paused. "Then, a few years later, after our second child was born, I couldn't avoid hiring help again. This time, I got an older woman to watch the girls. It turns out he's not picky about age, either."
I was dumbfounded and unable to respond to any of this.
"And then there was..." she paused mid-sentence as she looked at me.
"My sister?" I blurted out.
"Yes, you know about that mess?" She responded.
"Mr. K let it slip, and I figured it out... I'm so sorry." My head bent down in shame.
"I thought it'd be safe to hire you," Mrs. Kelly continued. "After what happened with your sister, I thought he wouldn't cross that line with you."
"It didn't start until after my eighteenth birthday, if that's any consolation," I said weakly.
"How long after your birthday?" She asked.
I looked away from her. "A month."
She chuckled at my childish comment.
"Why do you stay with him?" I couldn't resist asking.
Mrs. Kelly sighed. "Well, there's the girls," she replied. "He really is a great dad. And despite what he does, I still love him. He says he just can't help himself, but that he still loves me."
Idiot. I was such an idiot. Of course, I didn't mean anything to him. It was exactly what I suspected. I was a young, tight pussy. A convenient fuck. He could get his fix without even having to go out and look for a mistress.
"Are you okay?" Mrs. Kelly asked me gently as she pulled up to the school.
"Yeah," I replied unconvincingly. "It's just...he told me..." I stopped myself before I could say, 'He loved me.'
"He told me I was special," I settled on instead.
Mrs. Kelly gave me a sad look. "I'm sorry, April. But he was just telling you what you wanted to hear."
I nodded, still in complete disbelief.
"The kids miss you," Mrs. Kelly added. "And I understand if you don't want to watch them anymore, but you're still welcome to. It might be tough to explain to your parents why you stopped babysitting. And don't worry about Rick. He understands the affair is over. He won't bother you anymore."
Affair! That's the first time I heard it called what it was. God, I'd been a mistress.
"Um..." I shifted in my seat. "I'm not sure."
"That's fine," Mrs. Kelly replied. "Take some time to think it over."
============
A week later, I was still 'thinking it over.' I'd be insane to go back there, right? I didn't fully trust Mrs. Kelly. She had to hate me, at least a little. Not only had she caught me in bed with her husband, but she caught me fucking him like a dirty whore. I wondered how long she was standing in the doorway watching. Oh gawd, the things I was saying and doing to her husband. I was mortified at what she may have heard and seen.
I was constantly distracted, spending a lot of time alone in my room. My teenage emotions were all over the place. I knew that it was over with Mr.K, but I still had feelings for him. Sure, he used me as his fuck-toy, but I also used him. I enjoyed the way he always treated me with respect and how he made me feel. I loved having sex with him. He made me feel like a woman. I needed to clear my head, so I put my hair in a ponytail and headed out for a run.
For one blissful hour, all I thought about was how to get air into my lungs and how my legs felt like jelly. I was almost back home when I saw him.
Mr. K was next to his open garage door, with a toolbox at his feet and a rag in his hands. He'd been putting a wrench away in the box, but then he suddenly looked up, and our eyes met. I automatically slowed my jog; if I hadn't, I might've tripped. He continued to stare at me as I got closer. I noticed there was only one car in the garage--his. It appeared Mrs. Kelly wasn't home. Taking a deep breath, I continued my slow jog right up his driveway.
"Can we talk?" I asked him slightly out of breath as I yanked off my earphones.
He nodded, then gestured for me to follow him into the garage, away from prying eyes. Inside, I saw his car had the hood popped up. Mr. K's hands were dirty from the tinkering he'd been doing, and his t-shirt was smeared with grease. He was slightly sweaty, like me. I hated that I was still interested in noticing things like his bulging biceps or his pretty brown eyes.
"Your wife talked to me the other day," I began when he neglected to speak.
"Yeah?"
"She says I can still babysit if I want," I replied, staring at my sneakers instead of at him. "She says you understand the affair is over."
"Is it over?" he asked.
I scoffed at him. "Are you serious? Mrs. Kelly has been amazingly kind about this whole thing. You'd really fuck her over again?"