Selena Kitt - Crazy About the Baumgartners

“Mm let’s go get clean,” Doc said. “Then we can do it again and get all dirty.”

I cowered behind the bedroom door, waiting for them all to go down the hall to the bathroom. I waited until I heard the bathroom door close and the shower go on. I waited longer, counting to a hundred-Mississippi. Twice. Then I heard the sound of moaning from the bathroom and I knew the coast was really clear. They were busy again.

My pussy twinged as I hesitated outside of the bathroom door, imagining what was going on in there, but I didn’t linger long. I crept back down the stairs and outside, shutting the patio doors behind me. There was dew on the grass already and I ran through it in my bare feet in the moonlight, shivering. I peeked inside my tent, seeing Henry asleep, snoring just as loudly as he’d complained Janie did. I smiled, zipping the mosquito netting back up and checking on Janie. She was snoring too.

I climbed inside her tent, forgoing my air mattress for the night. I would tell Henry he’d been asleep when I brought out his iPod and I just decided to climb in with Janie. And no one would ever know that I’d just watched their parents have sex and masturbated until I came so hard I could barely see. No one would ever know that I’d watched them have sex with another woman and I’d wished the whole time it was me.

“So when are we getting the baby?” I flipped through the racks, watching Mrs. B hold dresses up in front of herself.

“Next week.” Mrs. B met my eyes in the mirror.

Every time anyone mentioned the baby, her eyes got all dewy and shiny. They’d called last week, letting the Baumgartners know they had a baby they wanted to place with them, but it would be a few weeks, because the baby was still in the hospital. I’d gleaned most of the details from overheard conversations. The baby was a girl, three months old. She’d been taken away from her parents before, as a newborn, but she’d been returned. Now she’d been taken away for a second time, which Mrs. B said was a good sign that they wouldn’t give her back again. That meant they would probably be able to adopt her permanently.

Mrs. B was over the moon. They’d already prepared a nursery, converting Doc’s office, the room down the hall from mine. It had come together quickly, thanks to hiring a painter, a muralist and an interior decorator. Now the room was Pepto-Bismol pink with white stripes and walking into it made me a little dizzy. There was a mural on one wall of a cherry blossom branch. And Mrs. B couldn’t stop buying little girl clothes. The closet was already full of dresses.

I thought they were getting a little ahead of themselves, counting chickens before they hatched and all that-but on the other hand, I didn’t blame them. This poor little girl had been through so much already in her little life, she could use parents like the Baumgartners. I didn’t like to think about the things I’d overheard-being born drug addicted couldn’t be easy for anyone. Then came the bruises, the contusions, the burns and abrasions. And then, finally, the ultimate neglect. Leaving her in a hot car while Mom shopped at Wal-Mart.

She probably wouldn’t be alive if some Good Samaritan hadn’t broken the car window to get her out before calling the cops. I’d seen the story on the news and had been horrified. It was hard to believe we were getting that baby. The Baumgartners would be her savior. She would grow up with them, a part of their family, and they would love her and take care of her and give her more than most children in the world ever received from their parents.

“Hey, Gretchen, let’s go to Gymboree.” Mrs. B had abandoned her dresses-four of them in all. She was terrible at making up her mind.

“Again?” I smiled, putting the dress in my hand back on the rack.

“Come on.” Mrs. B seemed to be in a really big hurry all of a sudden, abandoning her pursuit of the perfect dress and grabbing my elbow, steering me toward the front of the store.

“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “Let’s go buy some more pink stuff.”

We’d almost gotten to the front of the store when I saw the reason for her haste. Ronnie was standing at one of the racks, looking through bathing suits. And Vince was standing beside her, looking all buff in a black tank top and jeans. The man’s arms were huge. He dwarfed Ronnie, who laughed when he bent to whisper something in her ear.

I stopped, shaking Mrs. B’s arm off my elbow, watching them talk and flirt and giggle. Ronnie was smiling. Beaming, really. She looked incredibly happy. I knew I should be happy for her, but something thick and bitter crept into my throat, constricting it. I knew it was jealousy, and I had no right to be jealous. We were over. It was over.

“Come on, Gretchen,” Mrs. B murmured, taking my elbow again, gently this time. “Let’s go.”

I knew she wanted to get me out of there before Ronnie saw me. Maybe she thought I was going to make a scene, but that wasn’t my thing. I was more than happy to slip out unnoticed. After all, that’s what I’d done when I discovered Ronnie having sex with Vince in our bed. If I could do it then, I could certainly do it now. I started to leave, following Mrs. B.

That’s when Ronnie looked up and saw me. And I froze.

It was a moment, just a brief, fleeting thing. Our eyes locked. She recognized me, her gaze moving to Mrs. B by my side and then back again. Her smile faded and the suit she was holding dropped to the floor. Then Vince noticed her noticing me. I had a moment of insanity, when I wanted to run over and do something. I didn’t know what. Shake her. Kiss her. Something.

But I didn’t. Instead, I turned and walked toward the exit, Mrs. B following me now.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. B asked as we left Macy’s and headed toward Gymboree at the other end of the mall.

“Fine,” I lied, walking faster. My stomach was in knots. Of course, she knew I was lying.

“Hey, let’s go get some lunch.” Mrs. B caught up, grabbing my hand in hers, squeezing. “How about P.F. Changs? Let’s go eat the Great Wall of Chocolate.”

“Whatever you want to do.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

The kids were at camp this week and Mrs. B had decided to take the week off too so we could have a “real vacation” she said. Doc was still working, of course, but we’d gone to dinner last night, the three of us, which was a lot of fun. And today Mrs. B said she wanted to have a girls’ day out. She wanted us to buy some sexy dresses to go to a new nightclub tonight that had just opened.

“Don’t let her ruin things,” Mrs. B pleaded. “You’re going to move on. You’ll find someone else. I promise you.”

I nodded, trying on a smile. I knew she was right. Probably right. I mean, I’d get over Ronnie. We weren’t even really, officially, anything at all. So why was I holding on to what we’d had? I knew I needed to let go. Maybe Mrs. B was right. Maybe I just needed to move on. Find someone else. Maybe several someones.

“Okay, let’s go shopping.” I squeezed her hand, seeing her smile reach her eyes at my sudden enthusiasm. “I need to find the sexiest dress on the planet for tonight.”

“That’s the spirit.” Mrs. B laughed and we headed into the mall.

It had been a long time since I’d been to a night club or even a party. Ronnie and I had been homebodies. She spent so much time with school and studying, and me working at the Baumgartners and supplementing that income with selling the photos I took on stock photo sites, that most of the time we just crashed and watched Netflix DVDs together. Sometimes we went out to see an actual movie, but we rarely hung out with other people and never went to parties.

So I was nervous. I used to go to parties and nightclubs. I used to pick up guys. And girls. But I didn’t know if I was that person anymore. So I tried my best to find her, to bring her out with a short, black sequined dress; a cut, color and highlights at the salon that afternoon with Mrs. B; and the application of make-up, which I hardly ever wore anymore.