Share My Bed

I don't know how much time had passed by the time I woke up, but I could tell it was already dark. I heard a gentle crackling and the scent of smoke was faintly noticeable. Thomas must have lit a fire for me. How kind of him.

As I turned, I felt something tugging gently on my hair. Did it get caught on a part of the bed? I reached up to untangle it, but instead of hard wood, my fingers touched soft skin. That woke me up. I gasped and sat up, looking around in a blind panic.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Mr. Weston's voice spoke from the dark.

I rubbed my eyes, hoping they would adjust to the darkness. Mr. Weston? It couldn’t be. I must’ve been dreaming. But I wasn’t. Slowly, his silhouette became clear.

"Mr. Weston! What are you doing in my bed?!" I cried, shocked.

He laughed. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing. To clarify, Ms. Walton, you are actually in my bed."

"What?!"

"Amazing really," he teased, "there must be over twenty rooms in this house and somehow you choose the only one actually occupied. I compliment you on your taste though."

The more my brain woke up, the more I began to understand what he was saying. I jumped out of bed, praying the firelight wasn't bright enough to show my blush.

"Mr. Weston, I'm so sorry. I-I had no idea, please forgive me,” I stammered.

How was I already screwing up so much on my first day? I hoped he would be understanding. I really needed this job.

"It's perfectly fine, Ms. Walton,” he said, shrugging. “I don't mind at all. You know, I was actually discussing with Thomas the other day that I thought I needed something for my room, but I wasn't sure what. You've helped me realize what it was."

I tried to answer with what little dignity I had left. "And what's that, Mr. Weston?"

I heard his footsteps moving closer to me. I nearly died of shock when he put his hand on my waist. With the other, he gently moved my hair behind my ear.

"A beautiful woman to share my bed.”

Panic set in. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. It wasn't as if I'd normally be opposed to such an offer, but sleeping with my boss? My severely mentally ill boss? The first day of my training? It was too much.

"I-I'm very sorry for the mix-up, Mr. Weston. I'll find a new room and move my things there immediately,” I said, avoiding eye contact.

“That’s really not-”

“I have to go!” I blurted out.

I didn't run from him, but I certainly didn’t walk either. I must have been out that door in five seconds flat. I wandered around the dimly lit hallway until I found the staircase. I remembered leaving my things by the door when I first got here, but now they were gone. Did Thomas find out what happened? Was he already outside waiting to take me back to the airport?

"Is everything okay, Ms. Walton?" A voice asked.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I was getting really tired of being startled every few minutes. I turned. Thomas was there, dimly illuminated by an old lantern.

"I-I was just looking for my things so I could move them to my room," I sputtered finally.

"I've already moved your things to Mr. Weston's room," he explained. “Everything’s been taken care of.”

I went a bit numb. "But Thomas-"

"Your one and only concern should be to care for Mr. Weston. Everything else is secondary," he said pointedly.

"You can't honestly expect me to-"

"As I have said before," he interrupted, "I will not expect you to put yourself in any harm. However, merely sharing a room with Mr. Weston will do no such thing. Even at his most unbalanced he knows better than to force you into anything... undesired."

"This-this is too much,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s no way I’m going to-"

"You are if you want this job, Ms. Walton,” he said sternly, “and from what my niece has told me, you need it."

All I could do was stand there silently. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. I did need this job. If I left now, I’d basically be homeless. Even if I did find somewhere to stay, I had no way of making money. Especially not money this good. Still, sleeping with my boss to earn it? Desperate or not, I didn't think I could do it.

Thomas sighed deeply. "Ms. Walton, the care of Mr. Weston is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Some of the best-trained caretakers on this Earth have been driven away due to his erratic behavior. I have looked after this boy since he was ten years old. He's practically a son to me, but... I’m too old to do this anymore. I'm tired, Ms. Walton. I'm so very tired."

Perhaps it was the lamplight or the tone of his voice, but when he looked at me, it really did look like the man had never had a moment's rest.

"I did this partly as a favor for my niece, but also because I'm quite desperate, Ms.Walton. I need to know someone will be here to take care of him when I’m gone. So, please, if I have to beg, I will: Do as Mr. Weston asks,” he pleaded. “Draw boundaries when needed, but if it does you no harm, please do as he asks."

I felt bad for old Thomas. Twenty years following the erratic requests of a sick man, twenty years separated from friends and family, twenty years raising a child that wasn't his own, and now being trapped in that situation because it seemed nobody could handle it but him.

We stood in silence for what seemed like forever. After a moment I crossed my arms and looked at him seriously.

"I can set boundaries?" I repeated.

"Of course, Ms. Walton,” he said, relieved. “You are a servant, not a slave. More than that, you are the one looking after him. Please, be flexible with his requests, but feel free to be stern with him when necessary." 

Poor Thomas. It was obvious he was desperate for me to stay. And that was saying a lot. After all, I wasn’t trained, I wasn’t skilled, I had absolutely no clue what I was doing here. I wasn’t really worth fighting to keep around. But he fought anyway. I couldn’t imagine how many applicants must have fallen through already. How many times he must have begged them for one more day. 

He gestured upstairs sheepishly. I sighed but nodded in agreement. He led me back to Mr. Weston’s room, knocking firmly on the door.

"Come in, Thomas." 

The voice that spoke sounded so hollow I could hardly believe it was the same, lighthearted Mr. Weston I'd met earlier today. Was he angry about my refusal earlier? Maybe he’d tell Thomas to fire me on the spot. 

He was sitting in one of the armchairs with his back turned to us as we entered. He was staring into the fireplace.

"She left, didn't she?" 

Thomas glanced at me nervously. "Mr. Weston-"

"Don't bother, Thomas. I already know," he said, letting out a deep sigh. "What's wrong with me, Thomas? The other applicants... I didn’t care one way or another if they stayed, but... there was something about her. I liked her."

Hearing that, I felt a small twinge of guilt that I'd been so quick to run from him earlier. Maybe he didn't exactly act appropriately, but maybe I should have expected that. After all, how much experience could he really have talking with people, given his situation? 

The only person he really talked with was Thomas. And all these caretakers going in and out? It must’ve been difficult for him to connect with others. Even harder if they ran away like I did. I should have tried harder to understand him. After all, did I really expect this job to be easy?

"I think I spoke to her wrong,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. “I told her I wanted a beautiful woman to share my bed. I wasn't lying, but perhaps I should have said it better. Is there even a good way to say that kind of thing, Thomas?"

Thomas stayed silent for a moment. "None that I can think of, Sir."

"I didn't think so." 

He sighed and went back to staring into the fire. Its crackle was the only sound that filled the growing silence. 

"I really liked her, Thomas,” he said sadly. “Can you call her back? Offer her more money? I have more than enough. Promise her I'll behave better. I will. I absolutely will."

Thomas turned and looked at me with desperate eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked toward the fireplace. I stopped just behind him.

"Thomas, do you think I can ever get 'better?’ Will I ever be able to fix what’s wrong with me?" He asked.

I cleared my throat. "There's nothing really ‘wrong’ with you, Mr. Weston. You just need to work on your boundaries. Especially with female servants."

 "Anna?!" He gasped.

He spun around in shock. We both jumped a bit as he used my first name. He cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly.

"Ms. Walton,” he corrected himself, “I thought you'd left.”

"I thought about it, Mr. Weston, but... I think I'd like to try being your caretaker for a while.”

A smile spread across his face. "Thank you. Really. And don’t worry, I'll have your things moved to a proper room immediately."

"That's alright, Mr. Weston,” I reassured him. “If you really want me to stay in your room, then I'd be more than happy to."

"Is-is that really alright, Ms. Walton?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded. "Of course, Sir. After all, it is my job to take care of you."

My nerves were still shaking with every word, but his warm smile helped to calm them. He stood and took my hands in his.

"Thomas," he said without taking his eyes from me, "you can go now. Ms. Walton and I will go to bed for the night."

"Of course, Sir.”

Thomas bowed, shooting me one last desperate glance before leaving the room. It was just the two of us now. The crackle of the fire filled the silence again. It was obvious Mr. Weston wanted to say something to me, but he didn’t. I’m sure he feared that the wrong words would send me running again.

"Where can I change, Mr. Weston?" I asked, breaking the silence.

I thought I saw something in his eyes as I asked this, but he stayed silent. This worried me. After all, how was I going to take care of him if he felt like he couldn’t even talk to me?

"Please speak to me, Sir,” I begged. “I’m sorry if I worried you earlier. I think… we both need time to adjust to this new situation. That’s all. But I am your caretaker. So, please, don’t feel like you need to hold back around me. I can handle it."

"I-I don’t want to overstep your boundaries," he said cautiously.

"I promise, if you are, then I’ll tell you.”

He hesitated. "Well... if you're sure it's alright, I do have one request."

"Of course, Mr. Weston.,” I said cheerfully. “What can I do for you?"

He let go of my hands and walked to the set of double doors near the window. He opened them to reveal a large, walk-in closet. He looked around for a while before returning with something in hand. It was too dark for me to see what he had.

"If you really don't mind fulfilling my requests, then I request that you wear this to bed tonight,” he said, handing the item to me. “It is yours, after all."

Dread filled me as I realized what it was. Why had I even packed this for a caretaker job? Black, satin lingerie. Skin-tight and trimmed with lace. It shone ominously in the light from the fireplace. I don’t know what opportunity I thought I’d have to wear this, but I guess I never planned on sharing a room with my boss either.

"Is there a problem?" He asked.

Thomas' desperate plea echoed in my head. Do as he says, but set boundaries. I could do this.

"No problem, Sir," I said confidently, "but I’ll change in the closet."

"Of course, Ms. Walton."

I securely closed the doors behind me and did my best to change in the dark. It’s okay, Anna. He won’t hurt you. It’s just lingerie. That’s all. As much as I thought this, I still couldn’t help the knot forming in my stomach. It only grew larger as I felt the smooth material hugging my bare skin.

I exited the closet, but Mr. Weston was nowhere to be seen. I noticed the curtains were closed around the bed now. I walked over and pulled them back. He smiled up at me from the bed.

"It really does suit your figure," he commented.

I blushed deeply, but this had almost nothing to do with the compliment. Looks like he’d decided to change too. The difference was, he was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. I turned away and looked at the floor.

"Sorry, I've gotten used to sleeping in my underwear. Is that alright?"

His tone was half-teasing but I could hear a hint of real concern in his voice. I walked around to the other side of the bed, keeping myself as far away from him as possible.

"It's fine, Sir. This is your room and I’m here at your request. If there will be nothing else, then I wish you goodnight," I said quickly.

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I could feel him watching me for a while, but I finally heard the soft and even sound of him breathing deeply. He was asleep.

This day was exhausting. I just took a nap a few hours ago and already felt tired again. Everything about this job was very strange, but I suppose there was nothing bad about it. I had a beautiful home, a well-paying job, and an "interesting" companion, to say the least. I suppose there were worse jobs than sharing a bed with a rich, handsome, bachelor. I smiled at this thought. A small comfort, but it helped. It was like all the tension from earlier melted from my body. I finally fell asleep.