For the reader's amusement, I offer this line that I added to the previous chapter after publication. Originally, Jenna just says that she got the pancakes she'd been craving. In the edit, she says, "He gave me a massive serving of the pancakes I'd been craving, complete with butter, an apple-flavored whipped cream and three different kinds of syrup. Okay, that metaphor kind of went off the rails. I guess having to eat for two is playing with my mind." And now our feature presentation ...
***
THE SITTER
Jenna's seven months along. She took half-semester classes this fall so she wouldn't have to worry about finals when she got close to her due date. This past week was the last week of those classes. As it happens, Mom and Dad went out of town for a wedding. They asked me to stay home as much as I could in case Jenna needed anything. I told them I had to work Saturday, but I'd do what I could the rest of the weekend.
On Friday, I hadn't made any plans beyond staying home and applying to graduate schools. One school in particular had a genetics research project that sounded really interesting. When Jenna came home from classes, her blouse was out of her denim skirt, which is out of character for her. She also looked a little down. Either of these things alone I might not have noticed, but they worried me. In case I was wrong, I just asked, "How's your last day?"
"Okay," she said. "Took my last final, and I think I kept my B."
"What class was this?"
"Prenatal Exercise. It's meant for P.E. majors, but it's open to anyone. Anyway, we all went out to lunch after class and my classmates gave me a gift card."
"Where to?"
"The Hatchery. It's a maternity shop that just opened up at the outlet mall."
"Isn't it a little late for that gift?" I asked.
"You'd think so, but I need some new jeans. My last non-maternity pair just declared open rebellion." As she spoke, she unsnapped her skirt. Her underwear was in good condition, but it was a plain white pair, not like the sexy ones I'd seen her wear before.
She started unbuttoning her blouse. I put my hand on the waistband, toward the right. I joked, "A couple shots at Fort Sumter, huh?"
"I haven't looked good in four score and seven days," Jenna said.
"Says who?" I asked.
"You're just saying that 'cause you wanna get laid," she said.
"Doesn't mean it's not true," I answered.
"So you don't deny it," Jenna said. "Wait, you still want to?" I nodded. She held her blouse open and pushed her belly out. "You want to fuck this?"
"I wasn't thinking about it, but since you asked, hell, yeah!"
She put her head in her hands. "Oh, God, I can't even think about this right now."
I changed the subject. "Fine. What about dinner?"
"Well, there's an ice cream shop in the same mall as the Hatchery."
"Do they have a pickle stand too?" I asked.
"Pickles and ice cream. How original," she said sarcastically. Then she perked up. "I could go for a chili dog, though, and there's a kiosk where they sell hot dogs." She looked at me. "I know that expression. Out with it."
"Never mind. I wanted to make a wiener joke, but I couldn't word it right."
Jenna put her hand on my crotch. "You wanted to feed me a foot-long wiener?" She rubbed my dick. "Covered in man mustard?" I broke up laughing before she could finish saying, "Hoping to slip it between my buns?" I was glad she took her hand off, because I was starting to get aroused.
"I'd relish the opportunity," I said with a smile. Then I added, "Actually, I was wondering if you still had a taste for tacos."
"Only in emergencies, Buddy. I'll get my coat."
"You might wanna put some clothes on, too," I added helpfully. She showed her gratitude by punching my arm.
It wasn't quite supper time. Jenna pointed out what's probably the last surviving video rental place in our area. She still had her membership card. She doesn't like to spend a lot of time on her feet these days, so we stopped by. As soon as we were out of the car, she said, "They don't have an adult section, so don't even ask." I snapped my fingers in mock disappointment. I was serious about doing my applications, so I didn't look for action movies, which is what I usually want for myself. At first I skipped
Knocked Up
and a couple other pregnancy-themed movies because I figured she was dealing with it enough in reality. It turned out she chose
Baby Mama
and
Junior
.
We hid the discs under the passenger seat and continued to the mall. We got there just after five, when there were teen-agers underfoot. I don't feel like I have anything in common with them any more, but when I looked at Jenna, I realized that a year ago at this time she had still been a teen-ager. "Do you wanna eat first or shop first?" I asked.
"Eat. I don't wanna try on clothes and then find out that if I eat something, they don't fit any more." We went to the hot dog stand. She had the chili dog she craved and a Coke. I had a jumbo and a root beer. She pointed at my order and said, "Well, look who's craving a big wiener now!"
"At least this time it's wrapped up," I noted. I looked at her drink and asked, "So, are you gonna celebrate your 21st birthday with a beer next month?"
"That's not funny," she said. A couple walked past us, and I could see the judgment in the woman's face. I'd ruined a milestone birthday for Jenna, and I felt bad enough about it even without being her brother.
We finished our food and found the new store. She tried on one pair of jeans after another and even some other non-jean slacks. "It's no use," she said. I thought she was going to cry. "Lots of things fit, but nothing looks good. I may as well look at shirts." She found one T-shirt that didn't say anything about motherhood. It barely fit. I pointed out the bottles, but she reminded me that Gary's friends are adopting the baby, so she doesn't need those either. She ended up buying twelve bottles of cold soda just to use up the rest of the card.
After we left the store, she said, "I hope you like Mr. Pibb." I thanked her and opened a bottle. I'd just taken my first sip, and she actually did cry. "A $50 gift card, and I can't even find $30 worth of shit."
I held her for a moment. "Time for an early birthday present," I told her. I drove her to the other mall in our town, the one that's not outlet shops. We found one pair of jeans that managed a little bit of slack without relying on an elastic waistband.
When we got home, Jenna put her new jeans on again and showed them to me. "You like 'em?" she asked.
"They look a little tight in the back," I said.
"Good!" she said. She leaned over the dining room table, as much as she could at this point, and added, "That's what I wanted." Then she turned around and grabbed my arms. She pulled my face down closer to hers and whispered, "You didn't have to do that."
"That's about what I would have spent to get you into a regular pair of pants for your birthday if I ..."
"If you hadn't gotten into my pants in the first place?"
I smiled and raised my index finger. "Good one!"
Jenna smiled back for the first time that day. "Thanks, but I was really talking about dinner."
"I hate to tell you this, but I don't get credit for that." I admitted, "Mom gave me money for that. I'm supposed to watch you until they come home."
"Oh, crap. You mean you're--?"
I nodded in mutual embarrassment. "The sitter."
"What else did they tell you to do?"
"Just to give you whatever you want."
At first she didn't say anything. She just pondered the implications. Finally, she managed to start, "Hey ..."
Oh please oh please oh please, I thought. I tried not to betray my hope as I responded, "Yeah?"
She held her stomach out again. "You still want to fuck this?"
"I'd love to, but if I do, no one'll ever hire me as a sitter again!"
She whispered. "It'll just be our little secret."
"Mommy said never to do anything that we have to keep secret!" I waited a beat and asked, "Did I sound eight years old?"
"More like eighteen and retarded."
"That's even creepier, in a way," I said. "Are you as turned on as I am?"
"Even more," she said. "But right now, I just want to relax." She put
Baby Mama
in the DVD player while I got my laptop and joined her in the living room.
When the first movie was over, Jenna said she was ready. She headed upstairs and turned to go into the bathroom. In the past few months, I'd learned how often pregnant women have to go, so I just figured I'd wait and she'd tell me where she wanted to fuck when she came out. Besides actual babysitting, Jenna's worked in places that deal with kids--Chuck E. Cheese, photographer's assistant--and they visited classrooms in one of her education classes. I saw her working in the photography place once, and she's a natural with kids. When I got to the bathroom, she'd started running a bath. She mimicked a six-year-old's voice as she said, "Can I have a bath before you put me to bed?" She looked at my expression. "Too much?" she asked.
"Not going there," I answered. She turned the water off and pulled up the plunger. "No, no!" I protested. "I just meant I won't pretend you're a kid. If you want a bath, I'm on board!"