Page 6 of The Christmas Nanny

Why not? I’d just cleaned out my account for a suit for a job I knew nothing about. What would a six-buck cup of coffee matter? “I’m sure.” I bought the coffee and offered to carry the bag to her car. “I’m not into abducting beautiful women. I don’t want you to spill it on yourself. I’m Jacob, by the way.”

“Christine,” she said. “Thank you for the help.”

I opened her car door and stepped away. Once she was inside, I gave her the coffee. I ensured she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring when she reached for the cup.

She grabbed her wallet and retrieved six dollars, trying to hand it to me.

“This will sound a little crazy since we just met, but would you like to have dinner tonight? Instead of the six dollars.” Damn, it sounded like a shitty pickup line.

“Tonight tonight?”

I nodded. “Unless you’re busy. We can try another night.”

She put the coffee in the cupholder and placed the bag on the passenger seat. “Okay, but I’d prefer we met somewhere. Somewhere busy.”

“Sounds perfect. How about Raiders?”

“Six at raiders it is, Jacob.”

“See you then, Christine.”

Chapter three

Christine

I pushed the partially opened door and found what I thought I might find. Jeremy had let himself into the apartment while I stayed at Annette’s, and he and his friends were sleeping in the living room, snoring and being useless as always. The Christmas tree leaned against the wall, and someone had placed Jesus, face down, on top of the manger sitting on a bookshelf. Mountain Dew bottles and empty pizza boxes lay open across the apartment. I grabbed Jeremy's key on the table by the door and stuck it in my pocket. One problem solved.

I considered unplugging the gaming consoles and dropping them out the window. I gave up on that idea because the cold air might wake them. No. They needed to piss their pants, so I snuck into the bedroom and found the air horn I’d bought for next week’s festival. I made sure Wigglebutt was in the bedroom so he wouldn’t lose his shit.

Jeremy shifted on the couch, and for a moment, I thought he might wake. That would certainly take the fun out of sounding the horn. He scratched his tiny crotch and went back to snoring. His two friends were passed out next to each other, still holding game controllers. Then, a better idea hit me.

I stooped between the two friends and eased their zippers down. I then gently moved their hands into each other’s open zipper. Sometimes, my humor amazed me. I walked to the room’s center and squeezed the horn.

Occasionally, things that you imagine in your mind happen in real life. When the horn blew, Jeremy fell off the couch, and his friends screamed like little bitches. They looked at their hands and screamed again. I blew the horn one more time just for the hell of it.

“Everyone, get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Jeremy grabbed the horn and threw it across the room. “What the fuck are you doing, Christine?” He pressed his hands against his temples. I hoped the freight train running through his head would crash and send brain matter across the room.

“Get out!” I held up my hands, the apartment trashed. “Look what you did to my place!” I kicked a Mountain Dew bottle in his direction.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeremey said. He reached into his jeans and scratched himself again. Nice. His two friends watched but said nothing, fussing with their zippers. None of the three had anything worth seeing.

“Get out!”

“No. I’m not leaving my game console.” He tried puppy dog eyes, looking like even less of a man. Finding a man these days who actually looked the part was a difficult task. Rough around the edges had been replaced by hair and skin products.

“That’s not going to work!” I fixed Jesus and stood the Christmas tree upright, hoping sometime during the night, he noticed there were no gifts under the tree. “Get out now.”

“I ain’t gonna.” He’d played this game before, and I usually lost. I started to yell, but someone stopped me.

“She said get out.”

I turned to the open door. “Jacob?”

“You dropped your credit card when you got in your car,” he said. He pointed at Jeremy. “She told you to leave.”

Jeremy scoffed. “You don’t live here.”

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