Page 6 of Nanny for the SEALs

3

Stan

I hatedthe way Rick treated me sometimes, as if I was some kind of delicate flower he had to protect and preserve all the time. He ignored Mom and after her suicide, I suppose he is worried that I’d do the same thing. I didn’t know. We never talked about it, and whenever we did try talking, it would always end up in an argument.

We should have helped her in some way. Rick felt it would have happened sooner rather than when it did, because he’d read up on it and at times, people are suicidal all the time. They think about it all the time. I knew it wasn’t true because I’d thought about it, but not all the time.

I was checking around the club, and while it was bringing people in, it just was not as many as my brothers had expected. The business side of the club was Rick’s department, but he had some ideas he was trying to pull together. If he wanted to know about social media, then he would run them by me. He never talked to me unless it meant giving me instructions or finding out about technology. Three years ago, we were never that way; it was amazing how things could change in a short span of time.

I decided to head out. I didn’t want to see my brothers at the bar, nor did I want to hang out with them. Besides, in all honesty, I hated places like this; it reminded me of being on the field, not that they cared when they said they were opening the club. I told them I didn’t want to be a part of it. I wanted our time on the field to be truly forgotten, not to glorify or relive it.

“Pete, can you give a hand?” I turned from the back door and saw Diamond.

“Shoot, sorry, thought you were Pete.”

I shrugged, thinking how the hell she got the two of us confused. Pete was built like a tank with his athletic build, and his hair was always well-groomed. I was on the chubby side, and my hair was always growing out, so no one could see my supposedly dreamy emerald eyes. There was nothing dreamy about me. I hated whenever someone complimented me because I didn’t see beauty, only the fucking beast.

“No. And I wish you wouldn’t get us confused.”

For some crazy reason, I tucked my shirt into my pants and then headed out of the door, not waiting for her response. It was a cold thing to say to her after she helped me out with the twins, but I had no friends and frankly, I wasn’t interested in having any.

I moved away from the club, not feeling the need to apologize or even tell my brothers I was leaving. My phone chimed and I looked at it—the security system was working so there was no need for me to be here. I could go back to doing the thing I loved most—being online and degrading every new app or venture that was coming out. I felt that every time I thought of something, someone else had invented it long before me.

I’d lost enthusiasm to do anything I enjoyed doing. I didn’t know if it made me feel better, or just was a distraction from the darkness inside of me. Something inside me had died, and I should have been scared that it wouldn’t live again. Yet, I didn’t. I felt the complete opposite, as if I wanted all of me to be dead with it. I had nothing to live for. Rick was the father of the twins, not me. No one liked, let alone loved me anymore.

* * *

I turnedon some music to get me in the mood once I hit home. I had to stop at the store, or maybe I could get delivery to satisfy my sweet tooth and my recent obsession with pepperoni pizza. I just hoped Bianca, the new nanny, would have the kids in bed, and even better, would be in bed herself.

Rodney sent a message in our group chat saying he was on his way to the club. He’d tried to take the place of being our big brother after rescuing Pete after he nearly put his foot in a landmine. He got on well with Pete and Rick, but me…? No, I didn’t get on with anyone, which suited me just fine. Either way, he would be out of here and back home in his beloved Scotland. I overheard him telling Rick about his family back home getting older and wanting to be with his mom before she passed away, he didn’t want to repeat the same mistake of being on the field and missing the years he could have spent with his dad before he passed away.

Within twenty minutes, I’d be home. I stopped at a stoplight and quickly ordered pizza, along with two tubs of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate ice cream. It put a big fat smile on my face. I was going to be home, and hopefully, as soon as I got to the penthouse, my food would be at the door at the same time.

The streets were filled with people going to parties, lovers holding hands, and everyone being in a good mood—something I would be once I got home. It was a Saturday night, but tonight was no different from any other night for me.

I did the same thing every day—apart from today since I had to leave the penthouse. Rick was right; I didn’t need to leave. I could have checked from home, but it would have meant being stuck with the twins. I would rather take my oversized body out of the penthouse than stay with my nephew and niece.

I felt empty, cold, and alone as the thought repeated inside my head. I didn’t need to treat them that way; after all, they were innocent in the grand scheme of things. They didn’t ask to be born. It wasn’t their fault that my brother was careless and had unprotected sex.

As I reached the building and entered the apartment block, I decided I would make an effort tomorrow. After the feast I would indulge in tonight, I’d probably feel better not eating pizza for one night.

Maybe I should do like Pete said, and treat my body like a temple. Maybe it would actually make me feel better on the inside. Training for the SEALs, I felt like that because I had to. When I was there on the field, though, I stayed behind the screen, helping with the networks and ensuring everyone was hooked up. We could tap into the enemy’s network, but then they got rid of me. I’d started messing up. Connecting and then getting caught. I began to get jealous of the others on the field, like Pete and Rick. After all that training, they felt my purpose, my rightful place was behind a screen.

I couldn’t be sitting in, eating myself to death. Now there was no purpose, no end goal, and I didn’t sense the need to be this person. The one I had to pretend to be.

I slowly crawled out of my Porsche, thinking it was either getting smaller or I really was getting bigger, and then locked the door. The reflection in front of me wasn’t pretty.

Nearly sixty pounds heavier, hair overgrown, beard the same, and my skin made the pizza look better than my face. Shit, I had so much acne, there was nothing attractive about me anymore, and I was reminded of it every time I looked at my brothers.

Why, oh why, did we have to be triplets?

Even my damn shirt, which was an XXXL, made me look as if I had boobs. Man boobs.

Errh!

No, tonight would be the last pizza until I at least lost half of the weight, then I would look to get back into shape again. I was down this slippery slope, and as I entered the elevator, I decided I had enough looking at my reflection for today. I put in the key to take me up to the penthouse and I closed my eyes. The only thing I needed to focus was getting up to the top. The doorman would take the pizza, and he’d put it in the elevator as he’d been doing every night.

As soon as I heard the door chime, I knew I was there and a big smile appeared on my face… until I saw the person on the other side.

---