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While they were spending time together, I looked for something to do, most of the fun stuff seeming to be stockpiled in the parlor. I would have gone to my room, but it just seemed too sad to sit in my room alone. I might as well try and do something with my day off, even if I couldn’t leave the house. I finally had some time to myself and was determined to enjoy it if it killed me.
I saw the spirit board, leftover from our first gaming session before everything went wonky-bonkers, finally settling down into a sort of joyful calm. On a whim, I got it out. I knew it needed more players but figured what the hell. They didn't really work anyway.
Don't be so sure.
“Fuck!”
Language, hon. You don't talk like that around Jessica, do you?
“I – no.”
Good to know. I would hate to have to come down there and haunt you.
“And what the f-fudge do you call this?”
A friendly visit.
“You can do that?”
Not really, but I never really was one for rules. Something I tried to teach Dean.
“Good job.”
Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.
“Really?”
Of course. I've always trusted your judgment, Becky. You're really wise for your age.
“So is Jessica.”
Thank you. She really does love you, you know.
“Yeah, I mean, I try to be there for her, but I – I mean, I'm not you. She needs her family.”
Do you remember what she used to call you?
“Auntie Becky. But that was —”
A wise judgment call on her part. Take care of them for me, darling.
“Them?”
Silence.
Just me in a big room, in a bigger house with nowhere to go and no one to talk to. I didn't want to interrupt Dean and Jess’s together time, my presence only being a distraction. I had to give them space to figure it out. Which, as a result, left me pretty much cut off. At least to real-life contact.
Struck by inspiration, I ran to my room and brought my computer down to the parlor, every room in the house had wifi, Dean had seen to that, and started to look for something to join. I was pretty open, but cults, racist groups, and multi-level marketing schemes being a hard no.
After a bit more searching, I found an online yoga group with a session starting in twenty minutes. Confused as to how they would have a yoga class online but curious enough to give it a try, I signed up and watched the countdown clock with high expectations while listening to Vivaldi to try and get into the right mind space.
The group was pretty straight forward. The members all logged into a group chat and did a yoga session with the group's leader, who was a professional yogi — a word which always reminded me of the picnic-basket pinching bear.
What I didn't know was that this was the advanced session, meant for people who had been doing yoga seriously for years. The kind of folks who could see past the crass commercialism and empty social status and did it as part of a serious lifestyle. Fortunately, my mom was one such person and had me doing basic poses before I hit puberty. It helped me to limber up before gymnastics and later ballet.
I didn't think the yogi was actually targeting me with the increasingly difficult poses, but it started to feel like it a little bit. Me being the new girl and all. It could well have been some kind of strange hazing ritual I wasn't aware of.
When the session was finished, I got my legs down from behind my head and closed the call window. I was welcomed instead by a pop-up ad. saying that they were desperate for nurses at the local hospitals.
I had thought about being a nurse for a while. That was why I took Math in college, figuring it would be a sound basis. Though I also had artistic aspirations and had started auditioning, and actually getting roles with some of the smaller dance companies downtown. However, I had always intending to go to nursing school when I got the time.
Then I injured my shoulder, torn rotator cuffs being more common in ballet than most are willing to admit. I needed money, so I started being a nanny just as something to do.
Maybe it was time I looked back at nursing. I hated to admit it, but there would more than likely come a day when Dean didn't need me anymore. He was connecting beautifully with Jessica, and they were even learning to cook. She had told me all about it the Monday after the first few lessons.
Things were a bit complicated between Dean and me. I was developing some pretty strong feelings for him, especially after I had seen what he could really be like. The side of him that Simone knew was there, and I tried to bring out of him.
