“Timothy! Pull your pants up this minute!” Nell says, jumping up and wagging her finger in the air.
“Yes, Miss Nell,” Timmy says, clutching his waistband and pulling up his pants. “I’m sorry, Miss Nell.” His face reddens.
“So is this how you get your jollies? By embarrassing your dates with diapers?”
“Oh no, Miss Nell. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I thought you would understand. I thought we had… a connection.” Timmy hugs himself and rocks side-to-side.
Nell furrows her brow and sighs. “You’re serious about this. I can tell. Are you one of those diaper fetishists?”
Timmy sticks out his lip. “Icky. I don’t like icky fetish stuff. That’s for grown-ups.”
“But you are a grown-up. You’re thirty-seven.”
“I’ve had thirty-seven birthdays.” He pulls on the hem of his shirt. “But I still feel like a baby. That’s why I joined BeMyBaby.com. I was hoping to find a nice lady to take care of me. A lady to feed me, clothe me… to treat me like the baby I am. Of course I had planned to make it worthwhile for the lady – I’m not a baby all the time. From nine to five I’m an investment banker at North Valley Bank, and I do very well for myself, financially.” He glances at Nell. “I was hoping to share my wealth with the right… nanny.” Timmy clasps his hands to his chest. “When you answered my ad, I thought my dreams had finally come true.” He slowly lowers himself to his seat.
“You’re an investment banker?”
“For the past fourteen years. Before that I was a financial consultant. I got my degree in accounting at Shasta College here in Redding.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Nell smiles.
“I’m trying to show you I’m an open book. Of course, there’s no reason my banking colleagues should know about my specials needs, but with you – I want to show you I have nothing to hide. No ulterior motives. I just want to be babied… that’s all.” Timmy blinks up at Nell.
* * *
“It’s time for baby’s bottle! Who wants some ju-ju? Do you-you?” Nell pours apple juice into a baby bottle and holds it above Timmy’s playpen.
Timmy squeals in delight, clapping his hands.
“Can you say ju-ju, Timmy? Ju-ju? Can you say ju-ju?”
Timmy giggles and reaches for the bottle.
“Say ju-ju, and you can have your bottle.”
Timmy screws up his face and blows spit bubbles.
“Ju-ju, Timmy. Say it.”
“Na-ma mphf. Do-do.”
Nell frowns and shakes her head.
“Aw, c’mon!” Nells slams the bottle on the dining room table. “This is getting ridiculous. It started with you asking me to call North Bank telling them you’re sick. You haven’t been to the office in a month. Then you asked me to not only feed you and give you your bottles, but bathe you and dress you. You even convinced me to go out and get an over-sized playpen and crib. And I still don’t know how you talked me into changing your di-dees, but this has got to stop! Now say something intelligible!”
“Na-na.” Timmy drools.
Nells gasps, and covering her mouth with her hand. “Did you say na-na?”
“Oh, Timmy, you called me nana.” She smiles and stoops to hug him. “Yes, I’m your nanny. I’m sorry I was cross.”
“That’s a good baby. Don’t you worry about a thing, little- er, big baby. Nana Nell will take care of everything.”
* * *
“How does this sound – Wanted: ladies who are motherly and gentle, yet firm, and strict, if necessary. If you are a discreet lady who enjoys taking care of the big boys, apply at Nell’s Nannies.”
“I dunno, Nell,” Charlene says. “Do you think people will know what ‘big boys’ means? They might think it’s a legitimate nanny agency.”
“But it is a legitimate agency. I mean it will be, once I get my license.”
Tonya rolls her eyes. “An agency to match mother figures with pervs? Ha! I always knew there was something a little freaky about you, Nell. Do you really think there’s a market for this?”
“I already have a waiting list of adult babies who are looking for specially-trained nannies.” Nell smirks. “These men have all been screened and background-checked. And they all make six figures.”
“Sign me up,” Charlene and Tonya say simultaneously.
Nell pours three glasses of Riesling. “Cheers to the big boys.” The ladies clink glasses.
“By the way,” Charlene says, “where is Timmy? I haven’t heard a peep out of him all evening.”
“He’s in a nursing home.” Nell sighs. “He regressed to the point where he couldn’t do anything for himself. Lucky for me, he gave me power of attorney before he lost the ability to speak and write.”
“So you’re in control of all of Timmy’s finances?” Tonya says.
“How else do you think I was able to start Nell’s Nannies?” She winks and downs the rest of her wine.
* * *