Page 50 of 5+Us Makes Seven

“Yes I can. Your backpack full?” Emma asked.

“Don’t touch anything over here that isn’t in a box. Otherwise, yes,” I said.

“Knock ‘em dead, Natasha.”

“Trust me. I kind of want to,” I said.

Sixteen

Carter

I covered with it anger, but deep down I was heartbroken. After all of the time Natasha had spent with my family and all of the moments we had shared together, she was heading back to Africa. Leaving us behind and throwing it all away for some place that left her with nothing but nightmares and pain. I didn’t know what she was getting out of it, other than a second chance to do some good. But she was doing good here as well. My kids were flourishing more than they’d ever have. Clara loved school now and Nathaniel was no longer failing mathematics. Joshua was finding a love for science because of all the experiments Natasha would do with him on their days off from school.

Why couldn’t she see that?

I could pay her more than a place like that would ever be able to. I could give her medical benefits an organization like that would never be able to afford. She could have a better life here. A better place to live. A safer place to work. Less children to look after. Was control what she wanted? Because I was willing to let her reorganize my entire fucking life if it meant bettering my kids.

We had all grown to love her.

I had grown to love her.

I was beginning to convince myself that she could’ve been the one. That Natasha could’ve been the woman after my wife that successfully opened me back up to the idea of having a woman in my life. But she was leaving. Like it was the easiest thing in the world for her. She was running back off to Africa with no regard as to how my children would’ve felt about it.

No regard as to how I felt about it.

The new nanny shocked my children, but cutting it off in one fell swoop was better than prolonging the agony. They were upset for a few days and kept asking about Natasha, but as time went on they stopped asking. We sank back into a normal routine of me having to wrangle them in the mornings while the new nanny got the lay of the land. Clara went back into a full-time schooling setting because it was convenient for the new nanny’s schedule and the boys became combative over their homework again.

But the weekends were nice.

Though Nathaniel kept asking if Natasha was still going to come to his soccer games.

I wished there was something I could do. I wished there was a way I could stop Natasha from going to Africa. But if she couldn’t see after all these months the beauty she had dropped into our world, there was nothing I would be able to do to stop her. I sipped on my scotch as I reclined on the couch while the kids played in the playroom upstairs. I could hear them tumbling about and Clara ordering around her brothers. Nathaniel was kicking a ball against the wall and Joshua was sliding down our indoor slide. Moments like this used to calm me. The alone time away from work and away from the chaos of my children used to bring me peace.

But Natasha had also begun to fill those moments. And now I simply felt lonely.

She had ruined that for me, too.

A knock came at the front door and I groaned. I didn’t know who the hell it was at my house, but they needed to leave. I closed my eyes and sank into the cushions, hoping whoever it was would leave us alone.

But the knock came again and I knew if the kids heard they’d come rushing downstairs.

I threw back the rest of my drink and set it

on the coffee table. I got up and started padding towards the front door as another knock came. I heard the kids cease their movements as I reached for the doorknob, and I braced myself for the running of the bulls. They’d come stumbling down the steps to see who was at the door and poke their nose in business that didn’t concern them.

I could already hear them running down the hallway towards the stairs.

I opened the door, expecting to see a Jehovah’s Witness or a Girl Scout. I was ready to tell whoever the hell it was to fuck off. I wasn’t in the mood to be preached at and I didn’t want any fucking cookies. Unless it was Natasha coming to say she had changed her mind, I didn’t want to see anyone.

So when I opened the door and saw Natasha standing there, hope filled my chest.

Until she opened that beautiful mouth of hers to speak.

“I’d like to say goodbye to the kids, please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said.

“No offense, but I’m the one with the Early Childhood Development degree. And cutting someone important out of their life on a dime like you did isn’t good for them,” Natasha said.

---