Rent Me By The Hour (5 page)

My personal cell phone rings, and its Victoria. My friend Victoria loves to play the matchmaker. Since Max passed away, she thinks I’m lonely so she’s always trying to set me up with guys she thinks I would hit it off well with. But I’m not lonely at all. I have my two wonderful kids who always keep me busy.

“Hello.”

“Hey girl it’s me. Ah do you have any huge ice chest we can borrow for Sunday?”

Could she sound any more obvious? “Yeah I have a couple. How many do you need?”

“Just one. I want to make sure we have enough.”

Matt and Victoria throw parties and get togethers at least once a month, so I know they have plenty of ice chest and all the other gears to throw these shenanigans. But I’ll play along just to ease my friend’s mind. “Ok will do.”
“See you guys Sunday.” The excitement in her voice makes me laugh inside. She is so certain I will like this mystery man.

I hang up, push my phone into my back pocket; shaking my head, because I know exactly what Victoria is doing. I pour sweet tea into a glass mug, and start working outside in the yard. The sun is beaming, the wind is blowing just right, and the smell of privacy is incredible. Mufasa and Mulan roam the yard, while I work. They have so much space to run and play. Four years ago, I bought five acres of land, and hired contractors to build our house to my specifications and had the house built right dap in the middle of our land. My daughter Jocelyn loves animals and promises me she’ll be a veterinarian when she gets older, so I filled our land with animals. For my baby to be ten years old, she is already an excellent veterinarian. Having this much free space is awesome. I inhale absorbing everything around me. Nothing bets going outside and smelling different animal poops. The perks of country living. I grab a bucket, scoop dried corn, grain, sunflower seeds, and dried mealworms, and mix it together in the bucket. I unlock the chicken coop and pour the concoction into their feeder. We have forty hens and five roasters, and Jocelyn named every single one of them, but I can never remember who’s who. The hens lay tons of eggs daily. Most of which we eat. But while I was refilling their water containers I notice three chicks hatched. I run to the red barn, and grab the oval tin bucket, fill it pine flake shavings, and run back to the coop. Carefully, I cup my hands together and rests the chick one by one into the tin bucket. I lock the coop and walk back to the barn. After placing the chicks in the incubator, I turn on the heat lamp and timer. They look so itty bitty. It reminds me of when my kids were babies. Now they’re growing up so fast. Before I know it, they’ll be moving out on their own. Oh the thought of my babies leaving me kills me. I know as a parent we should want our kids to venture out on their own to live life the way we’ve taught them to be. But if I could, I would want them to live with me forever. Shit my land is big enough to build two extra homes in my backyard.

Our baby goats Rainbow and Smurf follows me into the barn; I sit on the floor and pet them. When they see their mother Tinker pass by, they chase her down the yard and once they caught up with her, they latch onto her nipples and start sucking her milk. I stand and rub Tinker's head and continue working on the yard. The kiddie pool needed to be emptied so I huff and puff as I’m lifting the pool to remove the stagnant water and replace it with clean fresh water. There’s this guy next door who offered to build me a pond for our ducks. He said he can install a filtration system and siphon pump so it would be less work for me. But when guys do favors, they usually expect something in return. So I’ll rather find a business who can build me a pond, I pay them, and I do not owe them any sexual favors. I think I’ll have that done when the kid are in their summer vacation.

Daisy and Daffy, our ducks swim freely in the pool. Shrek, Rainbow and Smurf’s dad graze the weeds against the first red barn. Shrek helps me out a lot by eating all the unwanted grass, but there’s just so much land for him to cover. I hear our American Yorkshire pig Popeye oinking in the shed. He needs some attention. Popeye needs company. I wonder if the classifieds have a female pig for sale. I walk over to check on his food, and it’s still full. Usually a pig just stays where they’re at and refuses to get up when their owner comes up to them. But not Popeye. Anytime we walk up to him, he greets us. He’s usually lazy, but when we’re around, he wants all the attention he can get. He’s an attention whore.

After pulling on the water hose I spray water into his barrel. His body is covered with mud so I wash him down. How can he roll his fat body around to be covered with this much mud? He seems to be enjoying his spray. My last task is to check on our two horses so I walk towards the other red barn. They are Quarter Horses named Merry Legs and Buttercup. Merry Legs hears me walking towards her, and she nozzles her nose on my neck. I snag the brush that’s hanging against the wall, and brush their mane. We ride them every so often, and Jocelyn asked if I can put her in equestrian classes. She wants to learn the art of horse riding. I thought it was very simple. You get on the horse and ride. Right? But no. There’s some kind of art form for riding them properly. And for her to learn how to do that, I will have to pay a hefty amount monthly. I will never get to retire next year if I do that. So if a miracle happens where I win the lottery, then yes I’ll enter her in the classes. Till then, she’s shit out of luck. I give my kids more than what normal kids receive from their parents but to a certain extent. I will not put myself in a bind like five years ago. Sitting, brushing their mane, relaxed, I start thinking of Max. It’s been five years and I still miss him so much. I don’t know if I will ever get over him. He was such a great husband and father. Lost in a trance, the alarm on my cellphone buzzes, reminding me to go pick up the kids.

I head back in the house, take a five minute shower, and dress into a clean pair of blue jeans, t-shirt, and slip into my flip-flops. Jocelyn’s school is five minutes away, and the cars that wait in line extend around the school building. The mother parked next to me waves asking me to roll down my window. Great. This woman is our local newspaper. Her lip is looser than a hoe’s pussy. I know one day I will be the topic of discuss around this small town. I kindly smile and roll my window down even though I do not want to. I hate it when she’s constantly gossiping.

“Hi Martha.” I send her a fake smile

“Hello Jacquelyn. Did you know Kyle cheated on his wife? They’re getting a divorce.” She states as I’m shaking my head to let her know I didn’t have a clue. But I’m really shaking my head at her. She’s so messy. If you want to keep a secret, you better not let Martha know. Within an hour, the seventy something thousand people who lives in Baytown will hear about it. It amazes me that she still has friends. I mean, if I was her friend and I told her my deepest secret then the next chance she gets, she blabs it to someone else; I would no longer be her friend. Tight lip isn’t in Martha’s vocabulary. Didn’t her momma ever teach her that gossiping will get her in trouble one day?

Martha continues, “Well did you know Nancy’s fifteen year old daughter is pregnant? I can’t believe that. Nancy needs to keep an extra eye on that daughter of hers. We do not need babies raising babies around here.” Her cellphone rings. Thank god. She waves her cellphone at me before rolling her window up.

The joy I’m feeling inside right now. While I’m waiting, I turn my body so I do not face Martha. I wonder once she’s done gossiping to the person on the end of her phone, will she try to get my attention again. If she honks, I can act like I didn’t hear her. I can dance so she’ll think my radio is blasting. But then I’ll be the damn idiot dancing to no music. The shit I have to do to avoid the whispers around this town.

I pull my phone out of my purse, click on the Kindle application, and read
The Hunger Games
. If the world ever came down to where we lived like the
Hunger Games,
I think my kids and I would survive. The sacrifices we do to protect and provide for our little ones.

The principle speaks on the intercom, and students stampede out of the building. Jocelyn stands by the truck while she chit chats with one of her cheer teammates. Cynthia’s daughter goes to this school also, but she rides the bus. Victoria’s son is in the same class with Jordan. He too rides the bus. I’ve offered to pick Stephanie and Patrick up, but my friends are so stubborn. They said they wouldn’t want to impose. Well that just gives me more alone time with my kids.

Jocelyn enters the car, “hi mom.” She buckles her seatbelt and smiles sweetly at me.

“
Hello baby. How was your day?”

“It was good. I made a hundred on my math test.”
“That’s great.” I wink at her in the rearview mirror. We head to Jordan’s school. He’s in sixth grade and his school is right down the street from Jocelyn’s school. Jordan’s sitting on the bench talking to a girl. I purse my lips trying to hide a smile as Jordan walks towards the car.

“Hi baby.”

“Hi mom.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s just my classmate mom.”

“Hey I’m just asking. No need to have an attitude about it.” I try so hard not to smile.

Jordan narrows his eyes at me trying to hold back a smile. He already knows what I’m thinking and no, the girl isn’t his girlfriend, but he does however like her and is too scared to let her know.

“How was your day baby?”

“It was good. How was your day?” Jordan throws his backpack on the floor.

“It was great. I had lunch with Aunt Victoria and Aunt Cynthia. Then I went home and took care of our pets. Are you y’all hungry?” Since I’ve been best of friends with Victoria and Cynthia for a long time, my kids grew up calling them their aunts.

“Can we go to Incredible World?” Jordan asks.

“Oh yes mom. Please.” Jocelyn begs.

“Do you guys have any homework?”

“No mom.” They simultaneously respond.

While driving that direction I wink at my babies in the rearview mirror. Since it’s only three-thirty in the afternoon, it isn’t as packed. I tell my kids they need to eat their pizza first before they can play the arcade games. Once they’ve finished eating, I buy three unlimited play cards. We can ride and play any game we want within a two hour period. They beg me to race with them on the bumper cars. Jordan wins the first round and lets his sister win the last. Why didn’t he let me win? Jordan and I play basketball while Jocelyn plays skee ball. When our two hours are up, we win a total of seven hundred fifty-three tickets. Jocelyn and Jordan split the amount and they each choose a prize.

On our way home, we decided to stop for ice cream.

“Are you ready for your competition Saturday baby?”

“Yeah. I hope we win again.” Jocelyn licks her pistachio almond ice cream.

“I hope your team wins again also. But if you guys don’t make sure you guys have fun ok?”

“But it’s better if we win mom.” Jocelyn drags the word mom. I wonder if every girl her age does that. Like dragging it will make me listen even more.

Laughing, “Don’t forget your pompoms Jocelyn. We forgot them last week and I had to buy you another set.”

“Ok mom.”

I scoop my pistachio almond ice cream with my spoon, “It’s your last game baby. Are you ready to play in the championship?”

“Coach said I’m starting again.” Jordan takes a bite of his waffle cone.

“Oh really? That’s awesome.” I squint my eyes at him, “Were you surprised that you’re starting? You should already know that.”

Jordan is so modest. Instead of boasting, he winks at me then smiles.

“Well I think you are excellent at football, so the coach better let you play.”

“Thanks mom.” Jordan smiles before taking another bite into his waffle cone.

We head home and before my kids bring their backpacks to their rooms I sign their daily folders. It tells me how my kids are doing in school. We never had this growing up. I guess that’s why I got away with pulling all the crazy stunts when I was younger. They climb their happy butts upstairs like they’re supposed to.