“True. Having things in common can be an aphrodisiac. Although looks don’t hurt,” Sam said, smiling at his pretty companion.
“I’m glad to hear that. I dropped the word ‘firm’ from my vocabulary over the past ten years,” Pat said, laughing.
After the meal was over, Sam brought Pat home.
“Next Saturday, they’re having a Cary Grant festival at the university. Would you like to go with me?”
“What fun! I’d love to go. What’s playing?”
“Only Angels Have Wings and Mr. Lucky. Not his best or even my favorites, but I’d be happy to see either one. Your choice.”
“Let’s see Mr. Lucky, he’s sexier in that one,” Pat suggested. “What is your favorite Cary Grant movie?” she asked.
“I like Bringing Up Baby. It’s funny and has Katharine Hepburn too. Do you have a favorite?” Sam asked her.
“I love his lesser known one, Holiday, also with Katharine Hepburn.”
“I’ll check on the time. Would you like to grab dinner first?”
“Delightful,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.
“I’ll call you with the time. Goodnight,” he said.
“Goodnight. Thank you for a lovely evening,” Pat said.
Before he turned to leave she got up on tiptoes to kiss him. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her again, with more finesse, slowly parting her lips and gently probing her mouth with his tongue. She gasped, so he backed off, stepping back from her. Pat’s wide-eyed stare made her look like a deer in the headlights.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rushing you, but that kiss…”
“I know. I started it. This is all so new to me…I hope you’ll be patient with me. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed, heat evident in her cheeks.
He smiled at her. “You’re worth waiting for, Patsy,” he said affectionately.
“No one has called me that since I was twelve!” she said, laughing.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s fine…more than fine,” she said, smiling.
“Goodnight,” Sam said, kissing her hand and returning to his car.
Sam kicked himself all the way home. Here I criticize Peter and look what I did. I rushed her! Like a bull in a china shop, I came charging in. He liked her honesty and her sense of humor…her kisses and her breasts were pretty terrific. Knowing she liked Cary Grant pleased him, although Sam suspected all women over a certain age had a “thing” for Cary Grant.
When he returned home, Peter was up.
“How was your date, Dad?” Peter asked, turning his attention away from the television news.
“Fine.”
“Did you score?” Peter teased, his eyes twinkling.
“If you were any smaller I’d slap your face for asking me that,” Sam said, taking off his sports jacket.
“Why?” Peter said, feigning ignorance, his eyes wide.
“If you don’t know what’s an appropriate question for your father, then I haven’t done a very good job raising you,” Sam said, angry and embarrassed.
“Can’t you take a joke? You’re becoming a prude.”
“I think I’ve always been a prude in your mind, Pete.”
“So, did you have a good time?” Peter clicked off the television.
“I did, thank you,” Sam responded, calming down.
“Are you going to ask her out again?”
“Maybe. Why all the interest?”
“Simply showing love and concern for my father,” Peter said, carrying a half-empty bowl of pretzels into the kitchen.
“You’re up to something,” Sam said, his eyes narrowed as he unbuttoned his shirt.
“I’m interested in who is going to have access to our living room on Saturday nights and if you’re going to be seeing Pat, then we’ll have to make up a schedule.”
Sam laughed. “Pete, you’re something! Do you think I’m going to be making out in our living room with Pat Weiss?”
“It’s your house too.”
“Pat has her own house.” Sam turned toward his room.
“Aha! So you are going to be making out with Pat, but at her house! You fell for that one, Dad,” Peter said.
“You’re impossible. I’m going to bed,” Sam said, unable to keep color from his cheeks.
“I’ll bet you’re a real mover with older ladies,” Peter said, laughing.
“Goodnight, Peter,” Sam growled.
Chapter Five
Peter checked the window before sitting down to practice the piano. Often he’d see Lara in her leotard stretching her legs at the barre.
“What do you want to hear today,” he called to her.
“How about Liebesträume first? Then Beethoven? The sonata you’ve been practicing?”
It had hurt Peter to play the Liebesträume, Bianca’s song, the first time, but now he played it for Lara every day. It became her piece.
Sam offered to take Lara with him when he went birding. Even though she couldn’t see the birds, she’d get out of the house, breathe fresh air, sit in the sun and listen to bird songs. Peter volunteered to go along and watch out for her while Sam looked for birds.
“I don’t know, Pete. I don’t trust you with her.”
“You think I’m going to seduce her in a field?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Are you?”
“Give me a little credit,” Peter replied, offended.
“Credit for what?”
“For thinking about something besides sex.”
“Do you think about anything besides music, art and sex?”
“I do.”
“What, for example?” Sam stood with his hands on his hips.
“Uh…uh…food! I think about food.”
“Okay, okay. But if I see any funny stuff…”
“What time do we leave?”
“Six a.m.”
“Oh my God!” Peter moaned.
“You’re coming, you said so. Bring the breakfast, since you spend so much time thinking about food,” Sam said smiling as he went to the kitchen to start dinner.
* * * *
The next morning at five forty-five, a bright-eyed Sam loaded tired and crabby Peter and Lara into his car and drove out to a prime bird-sighting location. Peter spread a blanket down out of the way of Sam’s birds. He brought out Danish and coffee. Then he took Lara’s hand and led her to the blanket. She sat down cross-legged, took a Danish Peter offered and rejected the coffee.
“No coffee?”
“Too dangerous.” She tore off a piece of the cheese Danish and put it in her mouth.
“Dangerous?”
“Too easy to spill on myself…it’s hot. I’ve already got burns from trying to drink hot liquids.”
“Tell me about yourself.” Peter changed the subject, sipping his coffee.
“What do you want to know?” Lara ripped off another piece of her Danish.
“Where did you grow up?”
“My parents owned an apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I went to private school where I studied ballet with my regular courses.”
“Do you like the city?”
“It’s my home. When my parents were killed, I moved into a small place of my own. I sold it after the attack. The apartment was trashed too.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“I can’t do anything until my eyesight returns.” Lara moved her hands over the grass tearing off little pieces.
“Will it?” Peter tore his cherry Danish in half.
“Dr. Weiss says it will. She said when I recover from the trauma, I’ll be able to see again. I can’t wait.” She piled up the pieces of grass on the blanket.
“Will you go back to the city then?” Peter took a bite of his Danish.
“I can’t stay here. My future aunt made it clear she wants me out as soon as possible,” she stated without self-pity.
“What does your uncle say?”
“Not much. He’s done a lot for me
. But he’s going to marry Fran.”
“He can dump the bitch,” Peter said with heat.
“Doubt it.” Lara laughed.
“How about if I seduce her and then tell him?” Peter inched closer to her on the blanket and reached out to touch her hair, but pulled back before making contact.
Lara laughed harder.
“She’s not very pretty. I don’t think I could pull it off.”
“She’s not?” Lara shifted position, pulling her knees up to her chest.
“You’re much prettier than she is.” Peter finished his coffee and put the cup down.
“With these bruises? I must be colorful—flesh, black, blue, red, purple…multi-colored, like one of the Muppets.”
Peter laughed. “Bruises fade, your beauty is here to stay.” Peter colored at his own boldness. He picked at a dandelion growing at the edge of the blanket.
Lara smiled.
“Did you have a boyfriend in New York?”
“I don’t remember. After the attack I lost most of my short-term memory along with my sight,” she said, her face clouding over.
“Forget it,” Peter said, taking her hand.
Lara whipped her hand out of his and put it behind her back. “I don’t like to be touched…surprised.”
“But before…”
“I know…that was strange.” She licked her bottom lip. “Got a girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment.” Peter picked a daisy and took off the petals one by one.
“What are you doing in Willow Falls?”
“I’m teaching a Survey of Western Art course for a year.”
“So you play piano and teach art?”
“Actually, I teach art first and play piano second.”
“You’re good on the piano. How are you at art?”
“Brilliant, of course!” He chuckled.
She laughed. “I never got to college…too busy dancing.”
“It’s never too late. Maybe my dad could get you some of the college required reading books on tape?”
“What a great idea! Will you ask him for me? I hate to ask anything more of him.” She trained her sightless gaze on the ground.
“Sure.”
“Your dad is so wonderful. You are lucky.”
“He likes you. If he was younger, I’d be suspicious something was going on,” he teased.
Lara laughed again.
“You’re funny. I like your voice. Why no girlfriend?”
“I’m taking a vacation from women.” Peter tossed the petal-less daisy aside.
“How come?” She raised her arms over her head and stretched.
“Need to sweep out some old cobwebs.” Peter’s gaze rested on her chest.
“You haven’t met anyone attractive?” Lara teased, smiling.
“I guess not,” Peter stared at her breasts, pushed out when her arms were raised.
“I’m sure you will at the university,” Lara said, folding her arm with the cast across her chest, breaking his view.
“I stay away from students. It’s a real no-no for professors to date students.”
“You mean, sleep with students, don’t you?”
“I guess…” Peter blushed.
“You’re embarrassed. I’m sorry.” She sat up straight.
“How did you know?” His eyes searched her face.
“I can hear it in your voice. It’s amazing how many signals and cues I get to people’s behavior through other senses.” Lara finished the last of her Danish.
“I better be careful when you’re around,” Peter said, recalling how she picked up on him staring at her chest.
“Can you tell me what some of the birds look like?”
When Sam returned to the blanket an hour later, he found Lara laughing at Peter’s funny descriptions of the birds and their personalities. Upon Sam’s return, Peter and Lara gathered up the garbage, leftover food and blanket. Peter took Lara’s hand to guide her to the car. Sam got behind the wheel as Peter opened the trunk. Lara turned toward him with the blanket and fell against him, twisting her ankle. She let out a brief cry of pain and shifted her weight to lean against him. He steadied her with an arm around her waist.
Lara looked up at him with her sightless eyes and he couldn’t help himself. He brought his mouth down on hers briefly, tenderly. Lara let him kiss her, then she pushed away from him.
The kiss was sweet.
“I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, Lara. But you look so beautiful…”
“It’s okay…friends kiss friends sometimes. Especially when the friend is a dumb, helpless blind girl. Chalk it up as your good deed of the week.”
“It’s not like that. You…you…” Peter took her arm but Lara wrenched away from him, slamming into the car.
He grabbed her before she hit the ground. Lara pushed away from him and felt her way along the car until her hand bumped up against the door handle. She opened the door, got into the backseat, and slammed the door . Peter slid into the front seat next to his father.
“Brilliant maneuver, Romeo,” Sam said, then turned the key in the ignition.
* * * *
On the outskirts of town
Rex stood in the deserted parking lot of The Wet Tee Shirt. The sun was high in the sky at one o’clock in the afternoon. His breakfast finished, it was time to get down to business.
“Mrs. Clarkson, your next payment is due Friday. Please don’t be late. I’d prefer not to call Herb,” Rex said into the phone before he hung up. Then he dialed again.
“That’s right, Miss Sands, your next payment is due on Friday. Please don’t be late. I’d hate to call Mr. Clarkson and tell him what you’re actually teaching his wife on Wednesday afternoons,” Rex said and hung up.
Deena had heard about these women having a lesbian affair from Alf Hodges, the mailman. Sometimes he’d make an unexpected afternoon delivery and catch them practically in the act, hastily pulling down skirts and buttoning blouses, he’d confided to Deena. He laughed when he thought of what high and mighty Herb Clarkson would say if he knew. Deena laughed with him…all the way to the bank.
This was a good one, a secret involving two people, double the pay-off. Rex was collecting three hundred dollars a month from each of them. The payments arrived at a mailbox at one of those professional mailbox places. Every couple of months he’d move to a new location or a new box number so there’d be no trail. And he was shortchanging Deena by forty dollars each month, he gave her two hundred and kept four hundred for himself.
Deena came through for him and this week he started working as the bouncer at The Wet Tee Shirt. He was making two hundred fifty dollars a week, not nearly enough for a decent lifestyle. But he smiled to himself, knowing that soon he’d be raking in money from his blackmail victims. This job was merely a means to an end. Getting paid to gather dirt. Not bad when you see it like that.
Ah, Deena. Rex stopped for a moment, his cell phone in his hand to think about her and her luscious body with those big breasts…all for him. She’d caved and slept with him on their second date. Rex took her to the fanciest place in Riverton, a town fifty miles away and she rewarded his generosity with the best sex ever. Deena was surprisingly sweet and affectionate in bed.
They had sex a couple of times a week at her place, because he didn’t want Alan to know about him and Deena. Rex often took her for a nice meal first. Sometimes he bought her a scarf or a necklace; nothing expensive, something to keep her happy, and bought with the money he owed her.
Soon Rex would have his own place. He wasn’t ready to move out yet, though. He hadn’t discovered Alan’s secret. Rex had bugged Alan’s bedroom and the living room and learned nothing. Next he had to bug Alan’s office. He could feel Alan was up to no good in some way and Rex was determined to find out what it was.
Staying at Deena’s sometimes worked out well for Rex. Deena couldn’t afford a big apartment, but she kept the place clean and stocked his favorite gin. She also made some of his favorit
e foods from time to time. After having sex, Rex and Deena would stay up late watching television. She hugged him and touched him often. Rex had never had much affection as a child and he found he liked it. He was growing used to being with Deena. In fact, he began to look forward to it.
* * * *
“Two hundred bucks a month?” Deena slipped her hand in his as they left the restaurant and headed to The Wet Tee Shirt.
“Yeah. For doing nothin’ really. How many guys doin’ that for you?” Rex arched an eyebrow.
“None. You ever been in love, Rex?”
“Never found the one, Deena.” He turned to face her.
She placed her palm on his cheek and looked into his eyes.
“It’s time you did.”
Got her. Hook, line and sinker.
He smiled at her.
“You volunteering for the job?”
“Maybe.”
“You make me hard, baby.” His gaze swept her body.
“That’s not love.”
“As close as I’m gonna get.”
Deena stopped and moved into his arms. She placed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“Maybe I can change your mind.” Deena pursed her lips and pushed her breasts up against him.
She’s into me.
“Maybe you can, baby. Ain’t gonna stop you from tryin’.”
It was obvious to Rex Deena felt safer at The Wet Tee Shirt with him there as the bouncer. He never missed a day and never came to work drunk, like Benny did. He was always alert and she knew no one would give her a hard time as long as he was there.
Deena was getting good at gathering information. When she suspected a customer had something to hide, she had Raj make their drinks stronger. She slipped him twenty dollars from time to time, thinking Rex didn’t know, so Raj wouldn’t ask questions. She flirted and talked with as many patrons as she could, always looking for information to give to Rex. Every time she had a good tip, he was happy and appreciative, giving her small gifts, taking her out and making love to her.
Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey Page 6