My Lucky Groom

his jaw and peered through the windshield. “Oh, six… No, seven.”
    “Oh!”
    “Since January, I mean.” He turned briefly to face her, then set his eyes back on the road. “Altogether there’ve been fifteen.”
    “Fifteen?” Ventura swallowed hard. “And how old are the children?”
    “The twins just turned five.”
    Ventura divided quickly, figuring that was an average of three nannies a year! And math wasn’t even her strength.
    “Don’t worry,” Jason said, seeming to read her mind. “It’s not nearly as bad as you think. Richard’s only been on his own for three years.”

    They drove down cobblestone streets, passing crowds of shoppers and a guitar-strumming street musician huddled up against a curio shop. Before long, Jason steered the car into a narrow parallel parking spot before a quaint white-bricked townhome, complete with flowering window boxes and a wrought iron front gate.
    Two children bounded out the door as Ventura cautiously exited the car.
    “Ventura!” little Ricky said, racing toward her. “You came!”
    Elisa shot her a shy grin and raced after her brother.
    Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as she’d thought. Kids were kids, after all. And these were mighty cute ones.
    Ricky threw his arms around her with a hug. Ventura stooped low to embrace him, and he sweetly patted her head. “We’re so glad you’re here.”
    Elisa silently stood by and nodded.
    “Why, thanks, Ricky.” She hugged him back, puzzled at the rapid turn of events. Perhaps Richard had talked to them and warned them to mind their manners.
    “Ventura,” Richard said, emerging from the door. “You made it.”
    She straightened her spine and smoothed her hair, which was as silky as satin by now. While she opted to weary it curly most days, she now employed a deep conditioner that gave her soft ringlets instead of frizz. She was also getting used to wearing her contacts and had decided Mary was right. She did look better without the glasses. More importantly, she felt better too. Ventura didn’t know when it was that she’d completely given up on her appearance. Though perhaps it was more accurate to say, she’d never paid that much attention to it. Now that she was starting to, things seemed to be coming together for her. It was like she was developing confidence in herself as a woman for the very first time.
    “It was a nice drive,” Ventura said, flipping back her hair. She twitched suddenly, sensing something was amiss. Why did the top of her head itch like something was on it? She raised her hand to her crown, then squealed in horror. “What is it?” she yelped as Ricky and Elisa giggled, scampering away. She thrust her fingers into her hair and encountered a tiny solid object. Please, she prayed plucking it free , don’t let it be alive . And when she examined it in the sunlight, she saw that it wasn’t. It was merely a little plastic spider, the kind used to decorate cupcakes at Halloween.
    “The kids must like you,” Richard told her. “With the others, the spiders were real.”

    When they entered the house, Ricky ran through the hall chasing Elisa, who held a squishy, bug-eyed toad. “Blinkie! She’s got my Blinkie!” Ricky cried with dismay.
    “Elisa! Ricky!” Richard warned. The kids skittered across polished hardwood floors, then tore up the steps. “Slow down! Somebody’s going to get hurt!”
    Ventura turned to Jason. “I don’t suppose it’s a plastic frog?”
    Just then, Elisa catapulted something from the top of the stairs. She’d raced up them, taking them two at a time, paces ahead of Ricky and her father.
    Ventura stared down in horror as something landed at her feet with a sprong! The life-like toad split open, exposing electronic inner workings, tiny springs, and torn wires.
    “Looks like another trip to the cyber-pet shop,” Jason quipped.
    He disappeared for a moment, then returned with a broom and dustpan. “Your first clean-up mission,” Jason said, handing it to Ventura. She looked down at the mess before her, her stomach churning at the thought she’d imagined this thing to be real.
    “I need to talk to the kids,” Richard said, excusing himself.

    Two hours later, Richard sat at his large modern desk. A new cyber toad croaked and bounced about in its cage beside his laptop computer. None of her studies had prepared Ventura for a day this wild. The house was a maze, the kids were a mess, and expectations for the nanny were exponential.