…his uncles’ attractive widow.

Claire, the second wife of Jakes uncle, was sounding a bit strained when she mumbled his greetings back to him over the phone. As he assumed from that she lost no time with idle chatter, but instead got to the point.

“Listen, Jake. I’m in a bit of a pinch here and you’re really my last straw. I didn’t mean to do this to you, but I would really need someone responsible to look after the kids for a few hours.”

Oh, help! That could mean only one of two things. And by her hesitation, it was probably…

“When you say kids, you don’t mean the brat, too. Right? Please tell me I’m right, Claire.”

She didn’t. “Sorry, but Roxy is home for a few weeks, I guess. She didn’t even think it necessary to tell me how long she intends to impose herself on us this time. But given that she always pulls this whenever she’s been fired from a job it might be a while. But hey, look at the bright side. With Charlie having held his birthday party last month even though I say kids there aren’t any minors here anymore. You can bring beer, or even be that pervy, buddy-like father-figure they never really had. Heck, actually if it weren’t for the fact I distrust the brat I actually wouldn’t even ask for a baby-sitter on such short notice.”

And he could definitely see why she didn’t trust Roxy. Claire would probably feel much more assured leaving her children all by themselves then with no one but the brat Roxanne Millers acting as the chaperone. Jake himself would rather leave minors in the care of ****-addicts than trust Roxy the brat as he called her. And witnessing the bright grin on his brothers face when his first daughter had been born Jake had at that distant day almost two years ago made the solemn vow to never leave children in the care of someone unsuitable for the job.

There was just the issue of a huge glob of unsuitability in form of a sleek remote-control pressing against the palm of his unoccupied hand.

“You said I’m the last straw?” Inwardly he prayed for her to have a different idea. Alas, that was not meant to be. “You are. I called everyone I could think of and even a few I couldn’t. No one is free or caring enough to safe my children from that woman.”

He almost imagined the remote twitching in his hand with excitement. This was everything he needed, he thought to hear himself whisper faintly in the back of his head, to go wild with it on a woman loathed not just by him but his family as well. Go there, let the youngins have a nice day until their mom came back from whatever errand she’d run and go home having altered that loathsome brat into something more… befitting. A good deed all around, wasn’t it?

“Hold the fort for but a minute”, he caved in to the internal temptation, “I’m on my way.”