My next door neighbour Henning, father of Ella, my go-to babysitter if I had to run some errands - and, incidentally, since last week, also my mistress - leaned on the fence separating our back yards, friendly grin on his face.
I left the lawnmower to its own devices and strolled over to him; Henning was a genuinely nice guy, and seeing as he wasn't wielding a shotgun while yelling his lungs out at me, he was likely blissfully unaware of what Ella and I had spent an intense hour doing together a few days earlier.
"Listen, bud - I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Ella here the other day," he began as I drew near. I felt like someone had just released half a gallon of liquid nitrogen in my guts; WHAT? I hoped I still seemed rather calm outwardly, because my innards were in instant, violent turmoil.
"I've no idea what you said to her, but when she went over to you guys to say goodnight to Thomas, she was in a rather foul mood - to the extent her mother suggested she leave it until next day, when she hopefully was in a better mood - some quarrel with her on-and-off-boyfriend, from what I gathered - but when she came back? All smiles, happy as can be and a joy to have in the house."
"Oh, that was nothing," I half spoke, half squeaked, still trying to recover as the liquid nitrogen evaporated and released the violent grip on my stomach. "I just told her that being eighteen is a temporary state, and that she'll soon find that she gets all sorts of new and interesting things to worry about as she grows older."
He shook his head, laughing. "Now, ain't that the truth... Well, it worked, at any rate. Speaking of eighteen year olds, would you mind keeping an eye on our house this weekend? The missus and I are going to see her brother in Trondheim, and while Ella is the calm type... You know, suddenly someone crashes the party or whatever and things get out of hand. Are you OK with me telling her she can call you or come over if she needs any help?"
My eagerness to be of service ought to have surprised him, but he didn't bat an eyelid. Of course I'd be happy to help in any way I could, no worries - while the violent, cold pit which had recently been my guts was now filled with butterflies. Henning and Tove were going away for the weekend. Ella would be home alone. With any luck, she'd stay over - at the very least, we'd have several hours to wear each other out by enjoying that most enjoyable of pastimes.
I could get used to the idea.
Returning to the lawnmower, I found it had been -sigh- unable to get the job finished on its own, so I coaxed it back to work and got the job over with while sporting a massive erection daydreaming about what the weekend might have to offer. Someday soon, I had to get myself a robot lawnmower.
Later that afternoon, just as junior and I were about to sit down for dinner - pancakes, at Thomas' most persuasive request - there was a soft knock on the porch door; Ella stood outside, smiling and waving, and Thomas ran, screaming with joy, to the door to let her in. "Come, we're having pancakes! Would you like some, Ella? You want some, don't you! Come! Daddy just put one on my plate! Come!"
Giggling at his enthusiasm, Ella strolled into the kitchen, returning with a plate and cutlery, then sitting down next to my kid and reaching for a pancake. Having dinner guests this housewarm certainly wasn't much trouble!
I'd been a little worried that I'd be acting differently when Ella was around after we'd had sex, but luckily, it turned out she was still the very same Ella she'd always been, adoring my son and being excellent company for the both of us, making it easy going to be around her, despite me knowing very well what she looked like in the nude. I had, gratefully, found that I was able to be around her without constantly undressing her in my mind. Thank God.
"Thomas," she began as she poured a little sugar on her pancake before rolling it up. "This weekend, I've got no plans at all, so I was wondering if I could perhaps borrow you for a few hours? We could go to the kindergarten playground, for instance, if it is OK with your dad?"
He nodded vigorously. -'Yes!!!! YES!!!' Ella glanced over at me. I nodded. "That would be perfect, I need to tinker a little with the car sometime soon, so if you keep him entertained for an hour or three, I can get it done then..."
Ella smiled. "That's settled, then. Maybe I could even borrow your dad a little, too, huh?" He nodded again, eagerly. I instantly felt I went beet red; Ella noticed and threw me a quick, impish smile before putting a finger to her lips while Thomas resumed his attack on the pancake remains on his plate, indicating she wouldn't pursue the matter further.
With dinner taken care of - it never ceased to amaze me how a 35-pound kid could seemingly eat 10% of his body weight in a single meal, at least if that meal was pancakes - Thomas went outside to play lawn croquet with himself until us grown-ups had done the dishes. He'd made us promise we'd play him a round as soon as we were done, and if past experience was anything to go by, we'd be on the hook until we'd played a couple of games.
"Mom and dad are going away this weekend, by the way!" Ella beamed as she put away the plates. "I trust you won't mind if I happen to drop by, would you?"
"Not at all. Your father's already recruited me to be on red alert in case your wild home alone party gets a bit out of hand, your water mains bursts, a meteor strikes or any other emergency."
She rolled her eyes and sighed, then giggled as she hoisted herself onto the countertop. "That's SO him. I've never - like, EVER - had more than two or three friends, tops, visiting at a time - yet he's been convinced ever since I was 13 or something that the first home alone-house wreaking has been just around the corner. You know, of the 'driving a scooter indoors, turning the upstairs bathroom into a swimming pool' variety."
She paused for an instant, turning to look out the window over the sink. "Which I almost take as an insult, seeing as I've been about as much trouble as a nun would've been. I never really got around to any teenage rebellion!" She giggled. "The only un-nunesque activity I engage in is sleeping with our twice-my-age neighbour. Of which, I might add, my father's got no clue."
I flushed deep red again, but joined her in laughing at her comment. "That you do. By the way, and please do not take this as a criticism, but... I really do think it would be best if you -or I, for that matter- didn't drop any hints like during dinner, no matter how opaque they may be. I'm not concerned that Thomas will understand what's being implied, rather that he'd notice me acting funny or something; it's amazing how good he is at sensing my mood."