Page 8 of Maid in Heaven

“Remember when you asked me where babies come from?”

“Yeah, I’m still a little confused about that.” She nodded, bobbing tendrils of her curly chestnut-colored hair with the movement.

“Well, we can talk about that more when you’re a little older, okay? The important thing is I’m not a gigolo, honey. That’s just what Samantha’s MommywishesI was.” Will could practically see the gears of his daughter’s mind turning.

“Why?”

“Because nobody wants to make babies with her.”

“She said that’s why you dress funny when cleaning houses sometimes. Do you need to wear a costume to make babies?”

“No, sweetheart. You don’t.” He chuckled uncomfortably. “People pay me to clean their houses in those costumes because it’s fun, and they think it’s… um…entertaining. But there is no baby-making involved, I promise.”

“Why would they say those things then?”

“Some people are so miserable that they have to make other people feel bad. Samantha’s Mom is just a bi—”

He stopped himself.

“—Abitterlady. Just ignore Samantha, okay? Samantha’s Mommy is just mad that she asked to,” he swallowed hard, “um… try to make a baby with me. But, you see, I turned her down.”

“Why?”

“Because I already have one.” He booped her on the nose with his index finger.

“Dad! You got butter on me!” She wiped her nose furiously.

The truth was Samantha’s mother, Charlotte, was Will’s first client. She had heard through Samantha about Starla’s medical issues and frequent school absences. She invited Will over to help out around her home and lawn for some extra cash.

One day, while her husband was away on business, she offered Will triple to do the work dressed as a scantily-clad cowboy, a somewhat masturbatory fantasy she’d confessed to having had for decades.

With a pile of bills from Jackson General Hospital and the cost of Starla’s new port and insulin, Will wasn’t in a position to turn the money down.

With a promise to keep quiet about the tawdry activities and to keep her hands to herself, he agreed to do lawn work and furniture assembly in the ten-gallon hat, boxers, and ass-less chaps she’d provided.

While her diamond-adorned hands never strayed from the pockets of her crochet romper, Charlotte hadn’t kept the first half of her promise. Fortunately for him, she blabbed to a gathering of her closest female friends at their next weekly book club.

Will started receiving calls from a bevy of horny housewives in the Jackson Hole area with similar offers. Within a month, he found himself rotating through a roster of opulent homes dressed in whatever costume the owner requested.

He quickly ditched the lawn work due to its lack of discretion and offered a variety of private services within the homes, executing tasks from dusting in fatigues and dog tags to cleaning dishes in scrub bottoms and a stethoscope to assembling furniture in a headband and leather jacket (a favorite among the middle-aged die-hard George Michael fans).

The costumed cleaning cost extra but soon became an honest way to earn enough dough to get the bills out of collections. Six months later, Will was able to put the minimum down payment on the modest home where he and Starla lived now.

He recalled the uncomfortable exchange with Charlotte the last time he’d seen her. She’d traipsed downstairs in a red, see-through nightgown while Will was brushing grime from the grout on her tiled kitchen island in a Trojan soldier uniform. Behind him, she slid a hand into his painted-on gold shorts and rudely helped herself to a fistful of flaccid dick.

He jerked away in repulsed horror and fired her as a client on the spot.

Spurned and vengeful, Charlotte spent the following week telling anyone in her social circle who’d listen that he’d made a pass ather.

Thankfully, that rumor backfired and only seemed to invite more business.

The allegations made his client list double in no time.

Will questioned the new career choice long before the groping, lonely mother trampled his boundaries. Having his clients fawn over him was flattering, sure, but it felt like only a small leap from costumed cleaner to prostitute. It was a leap he was not willing to make for any amount.

He knew one day when she was old enough, he would have to answer to his daughter about it all.

Thankfully, today was not the day.

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