by Matt Tims
“Dad…” Dave encouraged him to say.
“Is it okay…if I stay out late tonight…Dad?” Phil finally finished, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “Oh, go fuck yourself!”
Dave and Mike burst into laughter together, Dave’s guffaw promptly turning into a giggle. “Music to my ears hearing Phil refer to me as his dad.
“Seriously, dude, fuck off,” Phil groaned again.
“Hey!” Dave jokingly snapped at Phil. “You’ll be spending the weekend grounded in your room if you use that language in this house one more time, mister!”
Even Phil had to laugh at that.
“I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I could get Ms. V if I wanted,” Mike said to Dave.
Dave’s eyebrows perked up while he looked over at his buddy who was sitting in the recliner. “Dude, are you out of your mind? Did you not see what just happened? We have this crazy chemistry with each other.”
“Chemistry my ass…” Mike remarked with a grumble.
Phil decided to change the subject to something that had been on his mind for the past few minutes. “I gotta be honest with you two, if Ms. V was dancing to Led Zeppelin, then I’m pretty sure I could get into it.”
“I mean, shit, I could get into Bob Dylan if she was dancing to him,” Dave laughed.
“Easy now,” Mike said. “No amount of sexiness could possibly make Bob Dylan listenable.”
The room erupted with the sound of Mike and Dave’s laughter.
It only took a few moments for Phil to speak up again. He obviously hadn’t gotten the joke. “Who the fuck is Bob Dylan?”
Chapter 4 – A Game and a New Friend
Claire pulled into her driveway a little before nine-thirty on this Saturday night, completely exhausted. Who knew it’d be such a hassle to set up her parents’ new smartphones? It’d taken her dad forty minutes to successfully send a text message. Forty minutes! She wouldn’t be able to name someone worse with technology than her father.
The porch light was the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark house—just as she would’ve left things. The tired blonde was on a clear mission as she hustled up the pathway and to the front door to let herself in. Could it have been any more obvious that she was on a beeline for the kitchen? The only items on her mind for the past two hours had been the big glass of red wine with her name on it, and the story on her Kindle which she was desperate to resume. John Sales was a door-to-door salesman (ironic that his last name is Sales, isn’t it?) who’d just bumped into the newly single Tina Rickens. Tina’s story wasn’t all that different from her own, and John was a good-looking younger man ripped straight from the fantasy of pretty much every woman alive. The tale was right up her alley.
She dug around the refrigerator for the bottle of Zinfandel that had a tendency to roll to the very back. She finally found it, grabbed a wine glass, and headed over to the kitchen table to pour herself a well-deserved treat. Her day was officially over.
Or not.
“What’s this?” she quietly muttered to herself as she set her wine supplies down on the table. The sealed white envelope sitting on the granite table top labeled “Ms. V” had certainly captured her attention. Where had this come from?
It had to be from one of her son’s friends, right? No one else had been in the house since she’d left—at least that she knew about. Maybe it was a thank you for letting them use the house all the time. Or perhaps it was an apology for eating all of her food. Whatever it was, her curiosity to find out was growing.
She tore open the envelope like a little kid unwrapping presents on Christmas morning. Inside was a white three inch by five inch index card, obviously taken from the pile of cards on top of the microwave which she and Jake used for leaving notes to one another about their whereabouts. That still wasn’t explaining anything though. Why in the world was one of her son’s friends leaving her messages inside a sealed envelope?
Up for a game, Ms. V? You’ll get a very special prize if you win, but don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched. This game is tougher than it looks.
A clue is located on the bottom of this card which leads to another card placed somewhere in the house if you can solve it. On that card will be another clue that leads to yet another card. You get the picture. Solve the clues, get to the end, and a very special reward will be waiting.
How’s that sound, Ms. V? Wanna play?
Clue #1 – Everyone in your life thinks you want this, but I know better. To find the clue, you won’t need a sweater.
An ear-to-ear smile grew across her previously spent mouth. Wine and a novel now seemed like a distant memory. She returned her glass to the cabinet, placed the bottle of Zinfandel back in the fridge, and turned her attention to the index card. This was going to be fun.
Ten minutes passed with her mindlessly wandering around the house, checking in drawers, under cushions, and really anywhere that possessed even the slightest hint of appeal. She wasn’t even playing the game, was she? She decided to pause and take a seat back at the kitchen table to thoroughly think this out.
Everyone in your life thinks you want this?
What was something everyone thought she wanted? A man, maybe? It wasn’t necessarily normal for a forty-four-year-old woman to be single and not looking for a relationship. Well, that wasn’t exactly true.
She’d tried dating a few times over the past six months. There was that hotshot real estate agent her boss had set her up with back at the start of the summer. That was a fun dinner of listening to him talk about how amazing he was. Every time he’d ask her a question, she would start to answer before he would jump back in and tell another story about himself. Or there was the guy she’d met on that forty-plus dating site. He wasn’t as bad as the real estate agent, but he did confess to loving her midway through the chicken salad she was enjoying.
But both of those duds paled in comparison to the college kid she’d bumped into while in the checkout line at the grocery store. That wasn’t some cute way of describing their initial encounter either. Her shopping cart literally bumped into him, and that caused the two to spark up a conversation. She skipped the formalities of a first date, went over to his apartment later that night, and experienced the least satisfying sexual experience of her entire life.
That stuff about younger guys having unlimited stamina and a never-ending sex drive apparently didn’t apply to this kid, because he was a goner after the third pump. And not only that, but he had no interest in taking care of her either. That was made perfectly clear when he told her that it was time to go.
She actually sent him a text later that week to see what he was up to. To be honest, she kind of liked him. He was funny, interesting, and somewhat charming, and the first time with a new partner can be rough. It takes a while to learn a stranger’s body. Plus, he could’ve been nervous for all she knew.
She was willing to give him another chance, but when he responded with “Looks like someone needs more of this dick,” she knew this hunk was a lost cause. All she wanted was a nice, funny, intelligent guy she could have a conversation with, and if he could give her the occasional good fuck and go down on her from time to time, then she might even be up for making him her boyfriend.
Everyone in your life thinks you want this?
She hopped out of her seat and made her way to the stairs. No more blindly searching for an answer. It was time to put on her thinking cap.
“What I need is a pillow,” she managed to get out over the sound of a loud yawn as she ascended the steps. Actually, what she really needed was someone she liked to bend her over, give her a much needed pounding, and then tuck her into bed for a rejuvenating ten hours of sleep. She wasn’t liking the chances of that happening anytime soon, however.
Something caused her to stop directly outside of her son’s room. His door was open and his bookshelf stared back at her. Unlike herself, Jake wasn’t a bookworm. In fact, he wasn’t a fan of reading at all. Jake was a movie buff, a
nd his bookcase more than showed that.
Row after row of DVDs and Blu-rays filled the shelves. Her eyes squinted as she entered his room, approaching the endless number of movie cases ahead of her. A quick peek down at the index card in her hand reminded her of her clue.
Everyone in your life thinks you want this, but I know better. To find the clue, you won’t need a sweater.
Her eyes moved from left to right as she processed the movie titles in her brain. Nope, nope, nope, nope, stop! It wasn’t a movie that had grabbed her attention. Instead, it was a box set: The Complete Quentin Tarantino Collection.
Claire wasn’t much of a movie fan, but she did like one director in particular, and that man was Quentin Tarantino. There was no denying that one of his titles would fit the hint on the index card perfectly either—that was assuming the movie was even included in this set. Tarantino wrote it but didn’t direct it, so she had her fingers crossed.
Everyone loves Romeo and Juliet, don’t they? This was just the nineties version of that famous love story. Well, maybe it was slightly more violent. Okay, perhaps one of her favorite movies just so happened to be like a thousand times more violent. She wasn’t above admitting that.
She opened the foldout case in which the DVDs were stored, and immediately smiled at the sight of an index card taped to a disc on the far left of the box. What was hidden behind that card was even more beautiful. True Romance. Bingo. She removed the scotch tape from the card and flipped it over to read its message.
Congrats, Ms. V. One down, and who knows how many to go?
Clue #2 – I’m a fan of the explorer who went by the name of William Mattery, these clever little things would sure help keep the lights on in that spooky, old cattery.
That might have been a reach, but maybe a reach is all you need.
Referring to that as a reach was the understatement of the century. These clever little things would sure help keep the lights on in that spooky, old cattery? It had to be some kind of light or candle, right? Maybe a reach is all you need? What in the world did that mean?
She found her mind starting to drift. This was such a goofy activity that she was participating in, but it was the exact kind of thing she loved. Someone took the time to come up with a game by creating these clever little rhymes. She didn’t need constant attention or for someone to spoil her, but what she did crave was a connection at a level that was more than just physical.
She would’ve killed to come home to Al having this very game planned out for her back when they were married; and to be completely honest, she would take this over jewelry, flowers, or chocolates. Why couldn’t men understand that? Diamond rings and gold jewelry were nice, but real moments meant so much more. She didn’t want to have to tell her partner that either. Why couldn’t she find a man who all this stuff was second nature for? Wait a minute. She kind of just discovered that very guy, didn’t she? Even if the only detail she was positive about was him being twenty-six years her junior.
She would never figure out who was responsible for this game until she solved the clues, and this would be the last index card she found unless she solved how to keep that cattery lit. She was a smart girl. That brain of hers just needed to get with the program.
Directly next to Jake’s bookshelf was his desk, and on top of his desk was a shoebox. She couldn’t recall ever seeing that box on his desk before; but then again, she didn’t make a habit out of snooping in his room either. She reached out and removed the lid to find a white index card on top of a pile of miscellaneous items. A pack of AA batteries joined along when she removed the card thanks to a hefty amount of scotch tape.
“Keep a cattery lit with batteries,” she laughed to herself while rolling her eyes. She rushed to flip over the card to read her next clue.
Impressive, Ms. V. Let’s be honest here, we both know your son would still be on the first clue. I’m just kidding. Kind of…
On to the next and final clue.
Clue #3 – You’re so close to finding your special gift, all you need to do is give a few things a lift.
Good luck, Ms. V, and enjoy your new present.
Remember that whole thing about gifts not mattering to her? That wasn’t entirely true. She still enjoyed receiving presents—just like everyone else in the world. Maybe it was more of the mystery of what it could be? Or perhaps her girly side was coming out? Whatever it was, she couldn’t wait to find out what this mystery man had in store for her.
She thoroughly explored her son’s room, this time coming up empty. All you need to do is give a few things a lift? That could involve every part of the house! Her weary eyes weren’t helping to locate the last piece of the puzzle. She was so freakin’ tired!
A quick check of her phone revealed that it was twenty minutes to midnight. She’d found the first two clues fairly quickly, but had now spent close to ninety minutes scouring the house for the final index card. She finally decided to throw in the towel five minutes later. She just couldn’t do it anymore. The only thing she could think about was sleep.
She would try again in the morning since Jake didn’t return from his father’s until the afternoon on Sundays. She marched back upstairs and into her bedroom where she tossed the pack of batteries onto the mattress. Finally, time for bed.
Crap, she’d been wearing this tank top all day. Had she turned into a teenage boy without realizing it? She wasn’t seriously considering sleeping like this, was she? Without even taking a shower? It was disgusting!
A loud moan escaped from her mouth as rolled out of the bed and stumbled across the room toward her dresser, more than ready to call it a night. A light bulb lit up in her head while she dug around her drawer for a clean t-shirt. All you need to do is give a few things a lift. A lift? It couldn’t be this easy, could it?
Claire began riffling through her t-shirt drawer, digging all the way to the bottom only to come up empty. She did the same for her drawer of jeans and athletic shorts to similar results. Maybe she was wrong. What if she never found this final clue? Then what? Or even worse, what if Jake stumbled across her gift because she was too stupid to solve this puzzle? That would make for one hell of an awkward conversation.
She turned her attention to the top drawer which was the only one she’d yet to check. It just so happened to hold her bras and panties as well. She began exploring it until her hand hit a piece of plastic. It wasn’t a little piece either. It was fairly large, and almost felt like a container or a holder of some sort. She proceeded to pull it out, watching thongs and panties slide off from whatever the emerging object was until it finally came into view.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me…”
She would be lying if she didn’t admit to feeling excited. Yes, a larger part of her felt embarrassed: embarrassed that one of her son’s friends had been in her panty drawer, embarrassed about what he’d bought her, and even more embarrassed that she couldn’t wait to use it. Did that make her a bad mother? Or a pervert of some kind? She didn’t know; and if she was being honest, she couldn’t care less at this particular moment.
Claire was staring at a “Wireless, Waterproof, Large Sized Power Vibrator Wand Massager.” It was bright pink in color, and the big upsell across the front of the package was “No USB included, because something this powerful needs batteries.” It was officially the most bizarre gift she’d ever received.
One of Jake’s friends had bought her a vibrator. And not just any vibrator. It was a vibrator that bragged about how powerful it was right across the front of it! Was this how his friends saw her? As some kind of perverted sex freak? As an insatiable older woman who constantly needed to get off? Or maybe they viewed her as a pathetic, lonely girl who couldn’t get a man? She would ponder those questions later. At this very moment, her number one concern involved finding some scissors to open this thing.
She tracked down a pair of scissors in Jake’s room before making her way back to her bedroom with her new toy in hand. The pure size of this thing put all of h
er previous toys to shame—especially the little bullet vibrator she was currently using. That small purple toy didn’t pack a whole lot of punch to it.
On the other hand, this wand massager looked like it could be used to jump start her car if she needed to. Loud guffaw filled the room after she opened the back of this thing. There were spots for four AA batteries. Four!
She grabbed the eight pack of batteries from her bed and immediately noticed that it’d already been opened. In fact, the back had been clearly resealed with tape. She must’ve been too caught up in the moment to realize this little detail earlier, and a small piece of paper located behind the batteries put the finishing touches on this rather peculiar game. She pulled the note out and unfolded it.
Enjoy your new toy, Ms. V. Look at it as a thank you for putting up with all of our shit every week.
By the way, I’m always around for my favorite girl if you need a little encouragement to help you along :)
A phone number was included at the bottom of the note. This didn’t feel like Phil. He was too reserved to pull something like this off. It had to be the work of either Dave or Mike, and she was surprised to find herself loving every minute of it. The game, the gift, the option to call or text whoever gave her this to help her out: it was like something out of an erotic novel—except this wasn’t fiction. This was real.
She eagerly slid four batteries into the slots and flipped the vibrator over to look at the settings. There were five different levels with one being the lowest, and five being the highest. She moved the notch to the level three and turned it on.
Holy shit! The sound coming from this thing took her back to the Saturday mornings of her youth—to those seven o’clock wake up calls courtesy of her dad deciding to spend the morning cutting the grass with their absurdly loud push mower. If she had her way, she would’ve disposed of their mower the same way Peter, Michael, and Samir had destroyed the printer in Office Space. That lawn mower from hell still owed her hundreds of hours of sleep as far as she was concerned.