Chapter 5 - Sasha
Chapter five
I never thought I’d be so happy to arrive home to a one-bed, one-bath cottage, but here we are.
After a weekend back home to sign paperwork for Dad, I’m ready for a little peace this afternoon and a solid night’s sleep before filming starts tomorrow.
Filming. Since apparently now I’m an actor.
Yeah, right. I take a deep breath, reminding myself it’s an honor that my sister’s mother-in-law was so impressed by my fucking at her son’s sex club that she cast me as her late husband in her film. Right.
It’s better than going back to the family business.
A nice break, a place to live without worrying about security or noisy neighbors, and the cottage isn’t that bad.
Maybe a little sparse, but that’s all I need.
Unlocking the door, I can already feel the glass of vodka in my hand and a long hot shower. Except…
The usually monochrome living room looks like a crayon factory exploded in here.
Gone are the abstract art pieces that had lined the walls, replaced with big, cartoonish depictions of the alphabet.
Ladybug pillows and a garish yellow smiley-face blanket adorn the couch, and a fuzzy purple rug completes the look.
Glancing into the kitchen, I see even more yellow, as if someone had a few hundred dollars and an hour in a home store to decorate this place. If they were color blind. Or wanted to torture me, specifically. There’s a sunflower hanging on the wall with “Live, Laugh, Learn,” for God’s sake.
Not that I hate yellow, it’s just so bright in here, and who the hell did this?
“Ah!”
“Ahh!” I answer the bloodcurdling scream with one of my own, taking a defensive stance before seeing that a woman covered in spackle is the not-so-scary source of my fright.
Immediately, she decides I’m not a threat and gives me a warm smile, holding out her hand to shake before realizing she’s holding tape and a hammer, and settling for waving the hammer instead.
“Hi! I’m sorry for screaming at you. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but obviously, you have a key, so you can’t be that scary,” she says, barely taking a breath.
Her dark blonde hair is pulled messily on top of her head, and the freckles across her nose are somewhat obscured by the paint smeared across her cheeks.
She’s wearing a faded crop top with a tiny pair of shorts, and even my reply doesn’t deter her.
“I actually broke in here. I’m a burglar—”
“I’m Lucy, it’s nice to meet you! Are you here to tell me about the babies? Oh! Are you my coworker? It would be just like Blanche to have a manny, so progressive of her.”
I give Lucy a wide berth as I move past the living room toward the bedroom, noting the streaky yellow paint on the walls of the hallway as she continues talking.
“She didn’t tell me I could paint, technically, and it’s more color than I would usually go for, but bold colors are important for babies’ brains, I think, and it was so drab in here before!”
Before I reach the bedroom, I see garbage bags in a heaping, haphazard pile. Based on the arm of my leather jacket I can see sticking out of one, they contain the contents of my wardrobe that I had already moved in. Because I live here.
A glance into the bedroom reveals a more palatable light-blue comforter barely visible beneath an impressive pile of women’s clothing strewn about.
“Do you know how we’re going to split the babies? One for me and two for you? Or swap around so they don’t get too attached to one of us? Maybe it’s better for them to attach and feel more secure…I really only signed up for one, so hopefully the twins are mainly your responsibility.”
She finally notices that I haven’t said a word. What emotion she interprets from my face is anyone’s guess. Confusion, disdain, and weariness would all be accurate.
“Sorry! I don’t even know who you are. For all I know, you might be one of the Sinclairs, and these might be your babies I’m talking about!”
I have nothing to say, so I drop my bag onto the couch and lean against the wall of the entryway, realizing as I see her wince that it’s coated in wet paint.
I should’ve seen that coming. As she apologizes, I pull my shirt off, enjoying the way she sputters and finally stops talking.
If I knew that was the secret to shutting her up…
maybe I should just continue to strip, and she’ll leave.
Her eyes travel quickly down my torso before popping back up to look over my shoulder, and a blush heats her cheeks. She turns to the kitchen, showing me an absolutely delectable ass that’s not at all contained by her shorts.
“Do you want a baby?”
Alright, not done with baby talk yet.
“I mean, you can have my baby if you want. I’m probably not qualified to do this alone. We could share…”
I’ve heard enough. I leave the crazy baby lady in her headache-inducing sunshine-vomit of a house and head out the front door. It slams behind me, but I’m already picking up pace toward the main house, determined to find Blanche and see exactly who she let into my cottage.
“Darling! I wasn’t expecting you so soon. That’s alright, I’ve already started putting out the food. And look at you, I see you’ve found your wardrobe for most of the film!” Blanche kisses both of my cheeks before ushering me to a sideboard filled with finger foods.
“I didn’t know you were expecting me at all,” I admit, shoving a deviled egg in my mouth and wondering why these weren’t a thing in our house growing up. So good, and they make an event seem, I don’t know…fancy.
“Well, I would have thought that Lucy would tell you! I left a note for her this morning that I wanted to have lunch with both of you. Isn’t she just darling? I mean, perfection for what I have in mind—”
“Yeah, Blanche. Listen. I need to tell you that there’s a crazy person in your cottage.
” I feel bad about interrupting her, but if we need to call the psych people or whoever would come help in this situation, we need to get the ball rolling during business hours.
Maybe there’s a human version of animal control we could call…
“There she is! Lucy, you look like you’ve made yourself right at home! I’m so glad you’ve had the chance to meet my dear Sasha already,” Blanche gushes as she shoulders past me to greet the new arrival. “The two of you are simply perfect as Henry and me!”
Sighing, I turn to see exactly who I expected. She threw on a yellow sundress but didn’t wash the yellow paint off her face, so the effect is “interrupted while dressing up as sunshine for Halloween.”
Pure confusion flashes across Sunshine’s face.
“Me and Sasha? You and Henry? Your son?” she asks. Blanche moves back to the food and piles a plate high, gesturing wildly as she does.
“Oh, you’re a hoot! No, my dear! Sasha is my perfectly cast late husband, Henry Jr., and you, of course, are the beautiful…
me! In my telling of our love story! It’s what you auditioned for,” Blanche says as she shoves a heaping plate into Sunshine’s hands before turning to fill another.
I eat another deviled egg and wait until one of them manages to figure out what’s going on.
“I don’t understand…what about the babies? I showed up to a job interview yesterday, and you handed me a baby! I assumed you were hiring me as a nanny…and Sasha was the…other nanny. The manny. Male nanny…”
She shoves a cucumber sandwich into her mouth as if to physically stop herself from saying anything else, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t even slow her down. Blanche has her head thrown back laughing, though, which saves Sunshine from having to carry the conversation.
“The nanny! I’ve never heard such a thing. Darling, there is no world in which you are qualified to nanny my grandbabies. You aren’t trained in early childhood education, and you aren’t certified in attachment styles. Do you know infant CPR?”
She blinks owlishly at Blanche.
“You’re here, my dear, because you have skin I wish I had at your age and an ass I definitely had.
You’re to be me! Opposite Sasha. In my life’s work!
An avant-garde tale of the love story of the millennium!
Of course, we won’t be sharing our little project with my family just yet.
We’ll tell them that you and Sasha are serving as my assistants for now.
They’ve learned over the years that it’s best not to ask too many questions. ”
Sunshine swallows her third petit four and cuts her eyes to me. “I just…I thought this was all about the babies.”
Blanche gives her a contemplative look before shrugging. “Really, that’s not a half-bad idea. I could get you a realistic faux pregnancy bump. That was some of the most sensual lovemaking we ever had, so it could be perfect—”
On that note, I stand, having heard enough.
I would never disrespect Blanche, but I have to get out of here before I hear the b-word one more time.
Trying to think of something to say, I give a nod to Blanche before turning and power walking back out to the car.
I’ll have to deal with this ray of fucking sunshine at some point, but not right now.
Maybe I’ll stay out late, let her fall asleep after finishing painting every inch of the damn cottage yellow, then sneak back in to sleep on the couch.
If I go to bed late enough and get up early, I should be able to avoid the sunshine.