Sam looked askance at Rick. "Your mom's had one man after another from the time she left me, but no, I don't think she'd do that. I'm sure it's just the way she said it was."
The expression on his father's face showed doubt, and Rick knew he wasn't convinced, which prompted him to say, "Is it younger men Mom likes, or just men in general? They seem to be getting younger each time she moves a new one in and it's like she can't get enough sex with men. Maybe she has some kind of sexual problem."
Sam eyed him with uncertainty. When he offered nothing, Rick said, "Does Mom have some kind of problem?"
Sam looked decidedly uncomfortable, when he said, "Maybe. When we were married she never seemed to be able to..." He paused, and his jaws bunched.
"I'm twenty-four, Dad. I know about women. Maybe we can be a little open here. I'm not trying to pry into your sex life, but Mom's always had a steady stream of men in her life, and it was an embarrassment when I was growing up because everyone knew, and now I'm just trying to understand her."
Sam glanced around, as if looking to see if anyone could hear, then said in a lowered voice, "Your mom never could seem to have an orgasm, or at least I couldn't hold out until she did. For a long time I thought it was because she insisted I wear a condom, then the one time I didn't before I got the cancer she still had the problem."
"And I was the result of that one time," Rick said, setting things straight.
Sam nodded. "After having chemo and learning I was sterile and no longer needed condoms, I figured everything would be okay, but it wasn't. And I think we'd better leave it at that, but you need to get Sophie out of there."
"Like I have some control over her?" Rick said, with irony.
"I see your point," Sam replied. "She's pretty much had you dancing to her tune for years."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Sam shrugged. "Since you want to be open about things, you've been in love with Sophie for years and she has you wrapped around her finger, reeling you in and out like a yoyo. Maybe if you stood up to her you might get somewhere."
"If I stood up to Sophie she'd walk out of my life," Rick said, "but you're right about getting her away from Mom. Right now Sophie wants to get screwed, and those were her words. She's pissed at her parents and she's in the process of making sure she goes against everything they instilled in her."
When Rick started to walk away, Sam reached for his arm and said, "I'm sorry about all this, son. Do whatever you need to do to get Sophie away from there and we'll figure out a place for her to stay, at least until she starts to reason things out."
"Could she stay with Grandma for a month or so?" Rick asked. "Sophie's not about to go back home and work through this with her folks right now, but she's fresh out of college and doesn't have a job, and her degree's in management. Maybe she could work with Jayne managing the guests. She could send out job applications from here."
"I'm sure we can find something," Sam said, "but if she stays too long it could stretch into an estrangement that could last for years, so I don't want to be too accommodating."
Rick was tempted to confide in his father that he wanted Sophie to stay long enough to convince her that he was the man for her, then realized how ludicrous that would sound, as if he'd be marrying her to solve her problem with her parents. Instead, he said, "If her parents had been honest with her from the start, she'd understand why she was so sheltered when she was growing up. They wouldn't have had to go into details, only tell her that Aunt Justine made unwise choices when she was young and they didn't want Sophie to do the same. This way it's like Sophie learning that Mother Theresa lived a double life as a hooker. I just don't understand parents keeping something that important from their kids, especially when they're adults." He couldn't help noticing the repentant look on his father's face. "You obviously knew about Aunt Justine too, so you might have told me so I'd have a better understanding of why Sophie was so overprotected while she was growing up."
"Knowing about Aunt Justine's background with men still doesn't give me the right to share it with family members who don't know, including you," Sam said.
Rick eyed his father with vexation. "I thought we've been close over the years, and now I'm wondering if there are other family secrets."
The look on his father's face caught Rick up short, but before he could ask more questions, San said, as if in apology, "We have been close and I've valued that over the years, but Aunt Justine's involvement with men was a long time ago and she's been a good mother to Sophie so there was no reason to dredge up a past she wants to forget. As for your mom, she's a pretty messed up woman."
"Yeah, well, so is Sophie," Rick said, "so I'd better get over there and see what I can do about bringing her back here."
Twenty-five minutes later, when Rick walked into his mother's living quarters over the fitness center, he was startled to find Sophie half-reclined on one of the two matching couches in the living room, with a glass of wine in her hand. To his knowledge, Sophie hated the stuff. Ignoring his mother and the worthless pony-tailed excuse of a man named Don, who was leaning heavily against her on the other couch, he said to Sophie, "I talked to Dad and you can stay with us, and he said he'll find work for you on the ranch, maybe helping Jayne manage the guests."
Sophie took a long slow sip of wine, swallowed it with a look on her face that told him she couldn't stand the stuff but would tough it out, then replied, "That's very nice of your father, but I'm comfortable here." She polished off the remainder of the wine.
"You don't drink," Rick said.
Sophie tipped her empty glass toward him. "I do now," she replied. "What's more, it makes me feel good. It takes the edge off knowing the woman who raised me like a nun was a whore."
Rick could get into a long diatribe about how Sophie's mother had been a model mother all the time Sophie was growing up, unlike the woman sitting directly across from her, but he knew now wasn't the time. Instead, he glanced at his mother and said, "You got Sophie doing this."
His mother immediately became defensive. "You might not have a very good opinion of me," she said, "but I would not do that."
"She's right," Sophie added. "Actually your mother has been very understanding and very motherly. I don't think you've appreciated her over the years. Furthermore, I intend to have another glass of wine. I'm in no danger of driving while intoxicated since I plan to stay here... indefinitely." She lifted herself up from the couch, brushed past Rick, and refilled her glass. He could tell from her ungainly movements that she was losing control.
After settling on the couch again, she took an extended sip, swallowed with a gulp, and said, while admiring the contents of the half-filled glass, "I could learn to like this stuff."
Rick caught a distinct sluggishness in her speech and knew the wine was going to her head. "We need to talk," he said, this time his voice more firm.
"We just did," Sophie replied.
"Yeah, but we need to talk some more. I'll take you back to the ranch. We can talk there."
"Maybe tomorrow," Sophie said. "I'm going to a party tonight."
"What party?"
"No one you know." Draining the glass, Sophie set it on the table with a thud and swiped the back of her fingers across her mouth. After a few moments she said, in a slow, measured voice, "I'd invite you to come along... but I'm sure you'd be a spoil sport. Besides, I plan to get screwed. Actually, if I like it... I might get screwed twice. And you can... pass that on to Justine." Although she was trying to enunciate the words, Rick knew she was soused.
"You're drunk," he said. "You're coming with me."
"Do you have a search warrant?" She looked up at him with wide blue eyes then burst out laughing.
Rick turned to his mother. "Who's giving the party?"
Susan shrugged. "Lauren stopped by and told Sophie about a party her boyfriend's son is having for some of his old school friends. You know him from high school. Buzz Newman."
"Yeah, I know Buzz from high school," Ri
ck said. "I also know what kind of parties he throws. They start out with booze and pot and end up with everyone having sex together before the end of the evening."
"Sounzzzs like fun," Sophie slurred. "I hope I'll be one of the everyones." She laughed again.
Rick looked at Sophie in disgust then turned to his mother, and said, "Don't let her go."
Sophie lifted a wobbly chin, and enunciated, with difficulty, "Neither you... nor your mother... are my brother's keeper. Now if you... will excuzzz me... I think I'll go shower... unless you want to... come too." She laughed as if she'd said something incredibly funny, and added, "That's come to the shower... not the party." She laughed again. "Now that's a thought... me and Mr. Toody Goo Shoes together in the shower. That's Mr. Goody Goo Shoes... Umm... you in the shower screwing me." She lifted herself up, and standing on unsteady legs, placed her palm on Rick's chest to push him aside, and said, in a slurred voice, "I forget. You're mizzter pervfec. You don't screw women." Turning from him, she staggered to the bathroom and shut the door.
"How is she getting there?" Rick asked his mother.
"Lauren said she'd have Buzz pick her up. This is not my doing,” Susan said. “Sophie asked if I had some wine, and I thought it might help her calm down. Then Lauren stopped by and told her about the party and it seemed like something that would take Sophie's mind off things."
Rick let out a short guffaw. "Getting screwed by a half dozen guys while drunk will take her mind off things alright. She's never even been with a guy."
"You can't possibly believe that," Susan said. "She's twenty-three."
"Yeah, well not all women hop into the sack before they're married," Rick replied. "I guarantee, she's never been with a man. She never drinks either, which is why the wine's gone to her head, and right now she's mad at her folks, and she's here with you and your stud." His eyes shifted to the pony-tailed, muscle-bound guy in the tank top and cut-offs, who had his hand curled in front of him like he was studying his fingernails.
"Stop there," Susan said. "I won’t listen to this. Don and I are discrete."
"You sleep in the same bed, don't you?"
"Sophie's a grown woman and this isn’t the nineteen-fifties," Susan said, in a huff. "Men and women live together all the time."
"You make noises, Mom. I heard them from behind the closed doors to your bedroom every time I stayed here when I was growing up," Rick said. "What you do in the privacy of your home isn't my concern, but what you do when Sophie's here is."
"You're not her boyfriend," Susan said. "You have no hold on her."
"Yeah, but I've been her friend since we were kids and I can't let this happen to her."
Susan let out an ironic laugh. "You're in love with an illusion, Rick. You've made Sophie into something she's not. You think she's the untouched, respectable girl of your dreams, but the problem is, the girl of your dreams doesn't exist in today's world. You need to step into the twenty-first century."
Rick started to argue that she was wrong about Sophie, then realized he had no argument since Sophie was determined to prove him wrong as a vengeful act against her own mother. But he was just as determined to protect Sophie from herself, which, for the short term seemed to be crashing a party. Maybe he'd enlist the aid of Adam as backup. Whatever it took, Sophie would not be getting herself screwed tonight. He'd make sure of that.
CHAPTER 2
Sophie felt a kind of perverse excitement about going to a party she knew would make her parents croak. It occurred to her that since she'd skipped over any semblance of a teenage rebellion, maybe it was hitting her now, but she discarded that idea. She'd been a model daughter from as far back as she could remember, but for the first time in her life she felt free. Free to go and do whatever she pleased without worrying about disappointing her parents.
Disappointing her father and his wife, she corrected. Justine was no longer a parent. She was no longer a part of her life.
Emboldened by the lingering effects of the wine, she felt like wearing something to the party that would shock the hell out of Justine. Something tight that showed a lot of cleavage. Her father would be shocked too, but he was in no position to demand she wear skirts below her knees or tops above her collar bones. He'd married a woman who'd spent half her life screwing men, yet still managed to bury her disreputable past and settle into middle-class respectability.
She chuckled softly to herself. The one who'd be the most shocked would be Rick, but thankfully he wouldn't be at the party. She wasn't in the mood for a lecture from him. But he didn't know what it was like to grow up in a straitjacket, then one day discover that everything she'd been taught had been a lie, and she didn't want to try and make him understand. Some things in life were just too complicated to explain.
For tonight though, she felt like an emerging butterfly who'd spent a lifetime in a cocoon and was now ready to fly off and mate. That, too, she'd considered, though most of it was talk, jerking Rick's chain, though she didn't know why he'd always affected her that way.
Hearing Rick's mother in the hallway, Sophie poked her head out of the bedroom, and said, "Aunt Susan, are there any clothes shops around where I could buy something to wear to the party that doesn't look like it came from a store selling private school uniforms?" It still seemed strange calling Rick's mother Aunt Susan, but that's what she'd insisted, claiming she'd hoped to be looked on as a sort of pseudo aunt, if not a mother figure, which suited Sophie fine.
She liked Susan. She had an openness about her that invited discussions about anything and everything, even Sophie's feelings about sex, and the fact that she had urges that until now she'd quashed because, like she'd been taught since puberty, thoughts about sex led to a natural curiosity, which led to a desire to check out things like porn sites and R-rated movies, which led to wanting to act on what was seen. Just like having Barbie dolls, an absolute taboo as far as her father and Justine were concerned.
It was also strange seeing Susan in an entirely different light. All she'd ever heard from Rick were the negatives. His mother dumped his father for another man. She had live-in boyfriends. She drank too much. Good old Rick. Mr. Goody Two Shoes. She could assimilate the words in her mind now. But Rick probably never stopped to realize that a failed marriage could be a reason to live with a man instead of marrying him. It was a whole lot easier to ask him to leave if the relationship turned sour than go through a divorce.
"Maybe I have something you could wear," Susan said. "Let's take a look in my closet. We're about the same size."
"Are you sure you don't mind?" Sophie asked.
"I'd be happy to loan you something. Come on, we'll look together." Susan led Sophie into her bedroom, a spacious room with a king-size bed and double wardrobe closets with mirrored doors. There was also a line-up of full-length mirrors on the opposite wall.
"I like lots of mirrors," Susan commented, when she saw Sophie staring at them with a puzzled expression on her face. "It makes the room seem bigger."
"Yes, it does," Sophie agreed, though the mirrors seemed to take up most of the wall.
Susan went to the closet and glided open one of the mirrored doors. Sorting through the clothes, she selected a top and lifted it out on its hanger, and said, "This might be a little snug, but you have a nice figure, so it will look good on you. It also has a kind of built-in sports bra so you don't need to wear anything under it. It's your color too. Blonds look good in bright blues."
Sophie eyed the thing on the coat-hanger. Unquestionably snug, and low, and somewhat short, which would reveal a bare midriff. "It's perfect," she said, wishing Justine would be there to see her.
"And these pants are both casual and comfortable," Susan said. "They're intended to ride low on your hips, but you have a nice flat tummy so they'll look cute on you, and they go with the top," Susan said, while pulling out a pair of white, jersey Capris with turned up cuffs lined in the same bright blue as the top.
Too tight, too low, no bare middle, go back in your room an
d change...
She could almost hear her father's voice.
"Thank you, Aunt Susan," Sophie said. "What about shoes? What do people around here wear to parties?"
"It's supposed to be casual, so most will probably be barefoot by mid-evening," Susan replied. "I have an assortment of really cute flip flops, and I'll treat you to a pedicure this afternoon. We'll have the manicurist decorate your toenails with blue stars or something." She smiled then, a sweet, sincere smile, and said, "This is fun. I've never had a daughter."
Impulsively, Sophie hugged Susan, and replied, "Well, you do now. And thanks for caring. It's what I need most right now."
As Sophie started out the room with the clothes draped over her arm, Susan said, "I didn't mention it earlier but Kenny, the high school boy who's living here right now… he's having some problems at home and needs a temporary place to stay until it's all sorted out. He spends a lot of time downstairs on the gym equipment, and he sleeps on the cot in the exercise room."
Sophie gave Susan an ironic smile. "You seem to be collecting young people with family problems, and I really appreciate it," she said, then turned to leave.
"Honey, one thing more," Susan called out. "Tonight at the party, have fun, but be careful. And you can always call me to come get you if you want to leave early."
"I'll be fine," Sophie assured her, feeling a warmth inside that Susan actually cared, which was as surprising as it was welcome. "Rick seems to think I can't take care of myself. He forgets I've been away at college for four years." Four years at an all-girl's school while living like a nun, Sophie felt like adding, but that was all behind her now. There was a whole new world waiting for her, and it could not have opened up at a better time.
***
Adam eyed Rick with uncertainty. "I know you have a thing for Sophie," he said, "but don't you think crashing a party's going a little too far? She's twenty-three. I doubt she'd appreciate you carrying her off like a Viking warrior."
Uncertain Loyalties (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 4) Page 2