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The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. The script for the commercial was delivered by a courier. I had to sign for it, like it was a summons. Fancy.
I only had a few lines, but the script was three pages long and filled with stage directions. My character’s mood, their background, theirmotivation. All for a thirty-second commercial. It seemed excessive.
The dads beefed up Amirah Pratt’s security with a second guard, but they still took turns watching her property at night. Even Asher got into the rotation.
I actually kind of liked the situation. Not the part about Amirah having a stalker who was trying to kill her. I mean the part where the guys took turns on the night shift. It made it easier to decide who to fool around with every night.
When Brady was gone, Rogan and I slept together.
When Rogan was gone, Asher and I cuddled on the couch and watched a nature documentary. Sometimes we fooled around too, but we didn’thaveto.
And when Asher was gone, I told Brady to manhandle me however he wanted. Which was a request he wasveryhappy to oblige. As soon as the kids were fast asleep, Brady carried me into his room and gave me the rough, hard, no-holds-barred sex that I had been craving from my SEALs. He treated my lady parts like they were his dick’s personal punching bag.
And Brady could throw ameanpunch, if you know what I mean.
I was having the time of my life with the dads. And for their part, they seemed to love it every bit as much as I did. There was almost zero jealousy, and the kind that did pop up was fun and playful. “Oh, Brady didthatlast night?” Rogan would comment. “Well, I’m certainly not going to let him one-up me. Time to invade your stronghold.”
Okay, he never actually saidinvade your stronghold. But you get the idea.
Everything was perfect except for the most important thing.
The kids.
The first three weeks, they were great. Every day saw a little bit of improvement. Slowly and steadily, the boys were becoming well-behaved little gentlemen. Chocolate was one hell of a motivator.
“You’re just as good as Cora!” Brady told the boys one evening. Cora rolled her eyes, but the boys beamed.
Then, at the start of my fourth week nannying for them, the boys started to regress. I didn’t think anything of it, at first. There are always ups and downs with children, and sometimes a kid had a bad day. No big deal.
But they had two bad days in a row. Then three. Every day was a little bit worse than the last. We were going in reverse.
“If you don’t sit down and behave right now,” I warned Micah during an episode of Trollhunter, “your’re losing your star.”
“I don’t even care!” Micah shot back at me. He glared as if I was his enemy. “Stars are stupid!”
“Stars lead to rewards,” I said patiently. “Remember how you didn’t getanytreat yesterday? If you keep doing what you’re doing…”
Micah got up and ran down the hall, shouting about how he wanted to play with his toy truck. Once that happened, the last thread of Dustin’s control snapped, and he went stomping down the hall to follow him.
“I’m being good, Miss Heather,” Cora said in her high-pitched little voice.
I gave her a little hug. “Yes, you are.” I went down the hall to try to get control of the boys.
Generally, I preferred positive reinforcement over negative. But with the way they were behaving, I needed to institute a system of time-out. This may seem obvious to anyone who has kids, but up to that point my star system had done great by itself. Time to change that, though.
I put the boys in time out. They had to sit in the corner, facing the wall, for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes is aneternityfor a six-year-old, and by the end they were sobbing and apologizing and promising me they would behave.
That’s what I thought. I smiled to myself.
But the time-out system created a floor of behavior for them. Micah and Dustin would misbehave enough to lose a star, but as soon as they were threatened with time-out, they shaped up. It was strange.
“Micah only has one star,” I announced one evening after dinner. “Dustin has two. That’s not enough to get a treat fromeitherbucket.”
“I’m disappointed in you,” Rogan told the boys. “You’re better than this. Why aren’t you behaving for Miss Heather?”
The boys shrugged their shoulders gloomily.
“Cora, however, was very good. She gets a treat from the big bucket.”
