Selena Kitt: Crazy About the Baumgartners

I don’t know if it was minutes or hours before we were all in the Baumgartners’ big bed, me tucked down between them under the covers. Doc had taken the harnesses and swings down from the ceiling and they were packed away in a box under the bed to be pulled out at some later date, when we wanted to mix things up again. So many options, so many possibilities. They were endless-thank God. Because I couldn’t ever imagine being “done” with this. The thought wasn’t feasible.

“What did you wish for?” I asked Carrie as Doc turned off the light.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.” She kissed the top of my head. We were quiet and then she whispered, “I couldn’t wish for anything better than what I have right now.”

I felt Doc’s hand move over her hip, his arm resting across mine, all of us together in one big bed. I would go back to my own, by morning. We got up long before the kids. So far, it had all worked out pretty well. I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of our sex that lingered in the room. I loved the smell of us, the taste of us-I loved us.

I wondered what Ronnie would say, if she knew I was with the Baumgartners now. And finally, I understood. I knew why Ronnie had left, why she had chosen Vince. I’d been too afraid of getting attached to really commit to what we had. I had spent my whole life afraid, trying to keep my distance. I’d taken care of other people’s children, but I never thought of them as my own. I had been with men and women, but had never let anyone get too close.

It had taken living with the Baumgartners, growing far too attached, to them, to their children, to teach me how to really let go, how to be free, how to love. I was still afraid-the fear of loss was there, whether I tried to pretend it was gone or not-but I was doing it anyway. We’d all learned what it meant to love and lose someone. I didn’t think any of us would ever forget Holly, even though she’d only been with us for such a short time.

And I hoped, somewhere deep in her psyche, Holly would remember us too, remember how much we’d loved her. And I think she’d loved us too, from that deep, soulful part of her that had existed before and would exist long after she came into the world. I didn’t believe in an all-knowing, all-seeing Daddy-God in the sky, like Maureen Holmes did-but I did believe in love. Love went on, endless, before and after everything.

And I loved the Baumgartners. They made it easy, and slowly, finally, I was beginning to understand what it was like to have a home, to be part of a real family.

“Do you think you’ll ever get sick of me?” I whispered.

“Not a chance.” Carrie petted my hair in the dark. “Why, are you sick of us?”

“Never.”

I sighed happily, snuggled down between them, knowing it was true. We belonged to each other now, fully and completely, without reserve. I wasn’t ever going to tire of this.

I was crazy about the Baumgartners.