Decisions

            Occasionally, when the butler broke down into a pathetic mess of sobs, I helped out with my three newest brats. Eventually, I would need to fire the man, when the babies were older and no longer needed constant diaper changes. He asked too many questions about their origins.

            Trish turned out to be a splendid caretaker, with the assistance of a butler. She fell into the role quite seamlessly, leaving me free to continue with work. I also had adequate time to deal with the three antagonists squatting in my mind. The witch hardly shut up about the damn genie. “Genies solve problems. Do you know their favorite solution?”

“Nag a person to death about being freed.”

“No. They get rid of things, people, whatever is causing the problem. She might not know it now, but she’s going to teach herself Banish one day. And then even I won’t be able to help you.”

“I’m not worried about her. She can barely cross the room without touching the ground.”

“All she has to do down there is practice her magic. That lock isn’t going to do any good for long.”

            The newest babies were alright. Better than Claude. I still couldn’t look at my oldest brat without anger bubbling in my gut.

            I was intrigued by my only daughter. Grandma certainly hated her skin color, and while I admit it would not help end the curse, she had a certain appeal. The town might shrug her being blue off; Kylie had been treated decently in school and she was grey.

            It’d taken me a few days of pondering, but I decided on the name Narissa. I thought it was darkly eloquent, but Trish despised it. So did Mom, and Grandma, and the witch. That made it even better in my book.

            I was sure that Trish was desperate enough to keep me that she was never going to question James and Narissa. When I caught her staring intently at me over a cup of coffee one morning, I knew that I had been wrong.

            Without having to be asked, I grabbed a plate of fried bacon and sat at the opposite end of the table. “What is it, my beautiful rose?” I asked, laying it on thick in hopes of avoiding any sort of long discussion.

            She took an inaudible sip before starting. “Francis, I’ve put thought into it and decided that I would like to strike a deal with you.”

I raised one brow. “A deal?”

“Or rather put words to our unspoken agreement. Perhaps enlarge it an ounce.”

“And just what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t care to know where your children come from, and I trust that you do not particularly wish to explain it either. To keep others from questioning, I am willing to claim each as my own.”

I crudely laughed while taking a bite of deep-fried deliciousness. “Anyone that matters already knows.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah.”

“Even them? I do not think you are fully understanding me. I will be their mother, and they will never need to question you about such matters. Children tend to be deeply interested in these things.” She daintily tipped the mug back. I kept quiet while she finished her sip. “Of course there may also be someone in the future for you to impress. People trust a man who heads a traditional family unit.”

I have to admit, she was good. I wasn’t completely engulfed in attraction for her, but there was definitely appeal. “And what are you asking for in exchange.”

“You must know that I’ve taken quite well to your house, but it’s not all I want. I come from a family of wealth. If I only wanted fancy things in life, I would have stayed in my home town.”

“Then what do you desire?”

“If I’m going to be giving you my better years, then I want some semblance of a relationship. You’re strange.  I’m not entirely convinced that you have it in you to love. I am willing to accept your best efforts though.”

Finch’s crinkled old smile flashed through my head.

“I swear your family brings out the worst in people.”

“Francis?”

I had been enjoying our conversation, taking delight in the practical side of the young woman. She had good points, and her request wasn’t hard. Even easier to fake. Yet I couldn’t force myself to spit out any reply.

“Francis?”

My trouble was hotly annoying. “I need to think,” I snarled at her. I rose so abruptly from the table that my sturdy chair wobbled fiercely. It nearly tipped.

“It isn’t that difficult of a decision.”

“I said I need to think!”

            I stormed down to my lair was met by Theresa. Her whole body shook as she tried to catch her breath. “What have you been doing?” I snapped. “Why are you breathing heavy?”

“Do not concern yourself,” she said unevenly.

“Told ya so.”

“Just stop whatever foolish thing you’re trying to do.”

“My patience runs thin. Release me soon.”

“I’m not listening to this today. You should be happy I broke you out of that lamp.”

“My lamp was lined with rooms, dozens of them decorated with wealth you will never see.”

“You’d better get rid of her soon.”

“Would you shut up? I’m going to deal with it!”

“Just saying, the only smart thing to do is give up and keep your end of the deal.”

“The magical one in your ear is right.”

I was going to snap back with a retort, but then her words sunk into my skull. How could she hear the witch? That should have been impossible! I could almost feel the stupid witch shrug. I retreated up and out of my lair without saying anything else.

            There was too much in my head, and I had several days without my work to clear it away. I had to find something else to distract myself with. Television succeeded for a few hours.

            After that, I swam for a while, pushing my muscles until even doggy paddling made them sore.

            I tried to relax in the hot tub. It worked, but only when I thought of my old geezer. He’d spent way too much time soaking against the jets. I had thought it would keep him around longer.

            I had the following day off from work as well. I tried to fill it with as many distractions as I could, which turned out to mean taking many naps. Sometimes I would take a break from resting and observe Trish. Would Finch have like her? He would have admired her passion for the arts, and he might have become enraptured by her beauty. What did it even matter? He obviously had had a bad judge of character, seeing as how he married me.

            At one point, I spied on Trish caring for the infants. When she got to Narissa, she stared at her for a long time. “Surely we can come up with some sort of reasoning for you, Lovely.” She gently kissed the baby’s face. “Perhaps we could say it is a genetic mutation from my mother’s side.”

            I woke up early for my first day back to work after my weekend. There was silence in my head for the first time since Mom died, so I grabbed the opportunity and quickly took off to my lair.

            The peanut gallery was still gone when I reached the bottom of the steps. “You’re in my chair,” I gruffly stated at the genie. She ignored me. “I hate people in my chair.”

            I turned away before I could say my next words. I didn’t want to see my opponent’s lousy victory face. “Get out of here. I won’t tolerate anyone sitting on my throne.”

“It is a throne now?”

“Just get out of here!” I shouted. To my dismay, I could hear her condescending laughter.

“Of course, I will leave Sir.”

“Stay out of this town,” I sighed. Defeat was such a downer. “I don’t need anyone asking any questions about you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

            Theresa floated up the spiral staircase at the fastest rate I’d ever seen her move. I made to follow her, remembering that I hadn’t yet unlocked the door. By the time I reached the top step, she was already halfway to the street. “Once again, told ya so.”

            I went to work in a sour mood. It diminished over the night as I kept busy with assignments. As long as I didn’t think about my reasoning for letting the genie go (I hated to think I was scared, and hated even more to wonder if it was for my family’s welfare), then I was okay. Then again, I hadn’t even really known why I’d gone back on our deal in the first place.

            Meanwhile, at my fortress, Trish had an eventful evening as well.

            I returned to a house full of toddlers. Trish beamed when she showed them to me, her smile faltering when she had to point out who was who. “I dressed James in pink. He seems to have a soft spot for it, like his father.”

            Hans, my only child with her, took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected him to look… well so unlike either of us. “He gets the curls from me, but the blonde hair must all be from you.”

“That must be yours as well. There aren’t any blondes in my family.”

            To prove me wrong, Trish pointed to Narissa, who’d been crawling into the darker bedroom.

            “This one needs no introduction.” It felt awkward at first to hold the warm little body. It was sturdier than a baby, but still reminded me of a hot water bottle. I put my daughter back on the ground. She giggled, which I tried not to find as adorable as I did.

            The silent period had long gone, and the voices were pushing me into another decision. I’d already been defeated once that day, so what was another loss? Mom and Grandma’s bickering helped to block out any thoughts of Finch as I embraced Trish.

            “Have you given any more thought to my offer?” she asked with a knowing smile. Briefly, I thought about throwing her out, just to eradicate that smirk.

After a few moments of biting into my lip, I managed to grumble, “It was a fair offer and I’d be foolish not to take it.”

“Well that does not sound like something one would say to one’s love interest. Please, try it again.” Trish grabbed my hands and pulled each of my fingers out of the fists they were making.

“I like her!”

“Alright.” I breathed in and then out. Would any shower be enough to rinse off all my humiliating defeat? “Let’s take our relationship to the next level.”

“No, that won’t do at all. I want a truly inspired love. Something out of a romance movie.”

“Oh, I have so got this,” Grandma chimed in, apparently loving what the damn woman was doing to my pride. Why was I even trying to keep her around? The thought of four children following me around, asking about their mommies, ran through my head. Aggravating, at the very least.

            Apparently, my grandmother still remembered some sappy lines from her movies. “Trish, my beautiful rose, nothing would make me happier than to have you in both my home and heart. Please, stay with me until my dying day.” Mindlessly repeating what Grandma ordered me to say, I finally pleased Trish enough to begin our deal. And all it cost was my manhood.