"It makes me feel like a halfway capable mother to have it clean for at least five minutes once a week," Shy said, exhaling hard.
We'd both been cleaning since the moment Belle was backing out of the driveway with the sort of wide eyes that said she was instantly regretting her decision to take them.
"You're an amazing mother," I insisted, reaching up to push some of her curls out of her face.
I wasn't blowing smoke.
I'd always known she would be. She'd been mothering her little sister most of her life. She'd taken on a very hands-on role with the Henchmen kids as well as Betty as she was growing up and learning how to function in a much more stable environment.
She was a very hands-on parent, always putting away whatever work she brought home with her to set up and do finger painting or to go play tag or to swim in the pool.
Watching her be a mom had been an experience for me as well. Having been deprived of my own mom, and with a too-strict father, I'd been more worried than I was willing to tell her about being a parent. But watching the way she interacted with the kids had taught me how to do things that weren't necessarily in my wheelhouse—being soft, being silly, being spontaneous.
I mean, Shy was the kind of mom who planned a last-minute long weekend trip to Disney because one of the kid's hamsters died.
"Okay. Good mom. Terrible housekeeper," Shy said, sighing hard. "I guess I can live with that."
"It's not our fault. The kids are half feral," I reminded her.
"Oh, not the kids, that last one. That last one of ours, he's the one with sticky fingers and no little voice reminding him that painting the fridge with nail polish is a bad idea."
God, we'd all had such bad headaches from the polish fumes that we'd packed up and invaded Teddy's penthouse for the night while the house aired out.
"In his defense, he's watched you and his sisters play with that shit nonstop. He wanted to try."
"He had to watch because he tried to eat it the last time we were using it. I mean, really, what about the smell of polish is appetizing?"
"He's four."
"I know you mean for that to sound comforting, but all I can think is that he is going to find more bigger kid ways to destroy appliances in the future," Shy said, reaching up to stroke a hand down his cheek. "It's lucky he looks so much like his daddy. It's hard to stay mad at a face like that."
"Now you know why those girls of ours walk all over me," I said, giving her a small smile. "Fucking carbon copies of their Ma."
Mae then Kali were shrunken versions of Shy with this giant puppy-dog eyes that were impossible to say no to when they gave me that hopeful look.
Cupcakes for dinner?
Absolutely.
Another kitten we absolutely didn't need?
Sure.
Another little sister?
Well, I'd told them I would try. Then went ahead and gave them a little brother instead.
They'd rolled with the punches. I can't tell you how many times I walked into their room to find them dressing up Isaiah in fucking princess dresses and heels, crown and makeup and all.
"I feel like I haven't gotten five minutes with you alone all week," Shy said, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck.
"You haven't," I said.
Someone at the club had allowed the girls to watch something creepy, which meant they'd been crawling into bed with us every night.
"Those nightmares have a grip on them," Shy said.
"Hey, at least they aren't sleep-fighting their math teachers," I teased as my hands slid down her back.
"Hey, I haven't fought Mr. Hicklerman in a really long time."
Not since he got replaced with the anesthesiologist from the hospital who chased her around with comically large needles, trying to stab her in the back. Let's say, she had a little bit of PTSD from getting an epidural with Isaiah because of really debilitating back labor.
"So," I said as my hands sank into her ass. "We have a little time still before the kids get home. What should we do with it?" I asked.
"Well, we could maybe tackle the cesspool that we call a family car," Shy suggested.
"Or?" I asked as my hands slid up to go under the waistband of her pants and panties. One hand grabbed her ass cheek. The other slipped between her thighs, sliding up her cleft to toy with her clit.
"Oh, you know... Or sounds good," she declared, shooting me a saucy smile as her pussy started to get wet for me.
It wasn't long until I was stripping her out of her pants, and feeling her nails scratch my skin as she ripped off my shirt.
"I just cleaned this counter," Shy grumbled a bit after I hauled her naked ass up onto it.