by Wolf Wootan
Her favorite present was from Sam: An autographed Brittany Spears T-shirt, complete with a personal message to Becky.
“How did you get this, Sam?” Becky squealed as she hugged him.
“We did security for one of her concerts last month and I knew your birthday was coming up, so . . .”
***
On Saturday the 15th, the real celebration took place. Helena had planned it as a combination affair so that Becky could have teenaged friends attend, and Helena could invite a select few adults to whom she wanted to show off her brilliant “granddaughter.” There were 20 or so teenagers, divided—more or less—between boys and girls, and approximately 30 adults, many of them parents and grandparents of the teens in attendance.
Becky had already received her BA degree in mathematics, and was studying for her MA degree in that subject. She was only a few subjects away from her BA in physics. Professor Danforth, her mentor, was extremely proud of her!
The party started at 12 noon so all attendees could get in a full day of sun and surf. For those who did not want to brave the chilly water of the Pacific, the heated pool and spa were available. Many of the teens brought wet suits and surf boards and wasted no time before hitting the surf.
Helena had the extravaganza catered so that she and Sam could mingle without worrying about the feeding of the guests. Hamburgers, hotdogs, potato and macaroni salads, and various finger foods were available throughout the day, as was a plentiful assortment of drinks—both soft and hard. Parking—always at a premium on Beach Road—was solved by parking guests at the beginning of the road and shuttling them to the house using a neighbor’s Suburban.
Sam, dressed in red surfer trunks and a floral Aloha shirt, made the rounds of the adults, greeting them and making small talk.
“Nice party, Sam,” said Professor Danforth as he sidled up to Sam where he was standing on the deck watching the surfers, Bud Light in hand.
“Thanks, Peter, but the credit goes to my mother. She’s the hostess with the mostest,” shrugged Sam. “How’re Becky’s studies progressing? From your point of view.”
“Why do you ask? Do you have some concerns about her progress?”
Professor Peter Danforth was in his mid-sixties and looked much like the late colonel of KFC fame. He was sipping on a glass filled with what Sam assumed was Kentucky bourbon and branch water. He would most likely switch to Mint Juleps at sundown. He had a soft southern drawl. Looking at him, one would never know that he was one of the leading physicists in the world.
“I have no way of gauging that, Peter. She passed my ken long ago,” laughed Sam as he sipped his beer.
“Well, Sam, as you know, Becky is like a brace of wild horses—it’s hard to keep her reined in, but in my view, it’s necessary. She could have finished her doctorates in both math and physics by now, but I’m carefully pacing her so she’ll avoid burnout. Parties such as this one today are very important to her successful maturation. She has to be a child some of the time,” lectured Danforth.
“I know she needs a proper balance, but it’s hard to know what that is,” agreed Sam as he motioned Danforth to a chair. They both sat down in the shade of an umbrella.
Danforth continued, “Geniuses are commonplace compared to super-geniuses like Becky. Even rarer is a super-genius who is also a visionary. I’m holding the reins on Becky—not only for health and maturity reasons—but I want her to properly absorb and be knowledgeable of the accomplishments of those who came before her. I want her to have a solid foundation to build upon. As you’ve probably discovered already, geniuses need to be managed. Becky’s teenage life needs nurturing also, which you and your parents seem to be managing well.”
“I hope so,” murmured Sam. “She certainly deserves a good life.”
“Yes, she does. It’s hard to explain to the layman just how special Becky is. Most physicists spend their lives learning that which others accomplished before them, then maybe struggling in a specific area of expertise trying to unearth some new truth. Every generation or so a true visionary comes along—like Einstein—and develops a philosophy, or theory, if you will, that others before him had not seen. The General and Special Theories of Relativity are still not really grasped by many people. True, they can manipulate the mathematics, and can even teach it to others, while never actually feeling it—or understanding it.
“Rebecca is this generation’s great mathematical philosopher. Newton’s theories were astounding for his day, and are still somewhat accurate when speeds are small when compared with the speed of light. Einstein’s theories are excellent as far as they go, but fall apart when speeds exceed his definition of the speed of light. Rebecca’s new theory—vision—takes us into that superluminary area and she has developed the mathematical equations that help the rest of us try and grasp what we can’t yet comprehend.”
Sam couldn’t grasp it either. He had enough trouble dealing with the teenager aspects of her complex being. Sam had never really consciously taken on the role of father to Becky. Becky had expertly maneuvered him into the job, and before he realized it, he was performing the job quite well. Raising a teenaged girl did have its embarrassing moments, however.
***
Sam’s mind wandered back to when Becky had turned 14. She had experienced a sudden growth spurt, and had added some pounds to her spare frame, especially around her skinny butt. She also grew some real breasts. She needed new underwear badly, and was scheduled to go shopping with Nana the next Saturday. As fate would have it, on Friday Helena had an angina attack and her doctor put her in the hospital for observation. John got on the phone and tracked down Sam and told him to come to the hospital in Mission Viejo and pick up Becky. After checking on his mother, Sam took Becky back to the beach house.
Becky told him, “Nana was going to take me shopping. I guess you’ll have to take me now, Sam.”
“OK. What do you need?”
“Well . . . I’ve grown a lot recently, and I need all new underwear,” Becky stammered.
“Aww, Becky! I don’t know anything about . . . that,” mumbled Sam.
“Just take me down to Del Mar in San Clemente. There’s a lingerie shop there that Nana goes to all the time. That’s where we were going,” replied Becky.
***
Sam was lucky to find a parking space in front of the store and nosed his Camaro into it. Becky sensed Sam’s tension.
“Nana has an account here. All you have to do is go in and tell them that I can charge to it. Then you can go up the street to The Vintage and have a drink while I buy what I need. OK?”
“Maybe I can give you some cash.”
“Sam! All you have to do is walk in with me! Then you can leave!”
He had never thought of Becky as female before, just as a kid. Now she was buying lingerie!
Shit! She’s growing up!
***
Sam extricated himself from the clutches of Professor Danforth and wandered around chatting with the other guests. Around two o’clock, Sam built himself a plate of food, grabbed a fresh beer, and eased into one of the umbrella-covered tables on the deck. Already seated at the table were a couple who also lived on Beach Road—Sam had only a passing acquaintance with them—and Dr. Susan Reinhart, affectionately known as Dr. Sue to Becky. Dr. Sue had used the cabana near the pool and had changed into a dark green bikini a half hour earlier. Over it she wore a very thin, diaphanous, white cover-up that covered her completely, including her arms. Flip flops were on her feet, dark glasses covered her green eyes, and a floppy straw hat drooped from her head. Dark red hair flowed out of the hat and hung to her shoulders.
Sam had spoken to Dr. Sue several times in the past, because Becky met with her once a week and Sam often had dropped Becky off at the San Clemente house that doubled as Dr. Sue’s office and living quarters. He had never seen her in a bikini, and liked what he saw. She was only 5'4"—2 inches shorter than Becky—and had breasts smaller than Becky’s, in fact, but the overall package was q
uite enticing.
The four of them made small talk while they ate. At about 2:30, Becky ran up from the ocean in her wet suit and came over to the table.
“Hi, Dr. Sue! Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Cosset,” she said, out of breath from her run up from the beach.
They all returned her greeting. She turned to Sam and said, “Sam! Some of the kids are going down to T Street and have a bonfire tonight! Can I go? I have a ride!”
Sam wished that she hadn’t put him on the spot in front of people, but he answered her anyway.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Beck. Not tonight,” he said, looking her in the eye.
“Do you have a good reason?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“OK. I’ll skip it then,” she answered. “If it’s not wise for me to go there, how about my friends? Is it wise for them?”
“No, but I’m overly cautious with you, Beck. I can’t control what the others do.”
“But maybe I can dissuade them?”
“That would be a good idea, if you can. If it would help, you can have a bonfire here—do some marshmallows or something. But let them know there’s no drinking or pot smoking here. That’s probably why they want to go to T Street.”
“You know I wouldn’t drink at T Street, but that’s not the reason, is it?”
“No.”
“I’ll see what I can do about keeping them here. Some of them, anyway,” replied Becky, then she ran back down onto the sand.
Mr. Cosset looked at Sam and asked, “How did you do that? My kid would be raising holy hell!”
“Becky has learned that I don’t say ‘no’ without a valid reason. Sometimes she wants to know the reason, sometimes not. In any case, arguing is a waste of both our times,” shrugged Sam as he sipped his beer.
Sue peered intently at Sam and asked, “May I ask what the reason is?”
“Sure. I heard through my extensive grapevine that the Icepicks and Devil Dogs may have a rumble in San Clemente tonight. Taking care of some old business. That will lead to a lot of police activity down there. I just don’t want Becky in the area. She’s safer here with me,” Sam replied, wishing he could see Sue’s pale green eyes through the dark sunglasses.
Mr. Cosset jumped up and said, “Good God! I’d better go find out where my kid is!”
He and his wife left the table, leaving Sam alone with Sue. A slight breeze pushed the filmy cover-up against her chest and torso, the rest flowing softly in the swirling wind. Sam couldn’t decide whether she reminded him of a woman in her underwear and a filmy negligee, or a pixie swathed in a magical mist. Whichever it was, he was becoming slightly aroused. He couldn’t allow that amongst all the people, so he cleared his vision and thought about cleaning the bathroom in his Tustin apartment. That did the trick.
Sue had been watching him survey her body, and she wished she could take off the cover-up and give him a better look. The few times she had seen Sam, she had been attracted to him. She felt that feeling full force now.
Sue broke the silence. “You’re wondering about my garb? I have very sensitive skin and can’t be in the sun. This is as close as I ever get. This cover-up is a special material that blocks most of the ultraviolet rays. I love the sun, but am aware that too much of it could kill me. I will take a quick dip in your pool before I leave. Perhaps you could join me?”
She had a sparkling, impish smile, white teeth. Sam had done a background check on her when Becky started seeing her two years ago, so he knew that she was now 42 years old, never married; but the skin of her face was smooth, unwrinkled, pale. She could have been in her twenties if you went by looks.
An alabaster doll! Fragile! Desirable!
Sam finally responded, “I’d be honored to join you. It must be awful to live in a beach town in Southern California and have to hide out from the sun. How do you cope?”
“A lifetime of practice. But the beach is still there after the sun goes down. That exchange you had with Becky was quite impressive. She certainly respects you.”
“I hope so. I certainly respect her. We kind of understand each other . . . most of the time. She’s a clever manipulator, but she knows when to back off. She keeps her bratty episodes to a minimum. That’s probably because of her sessions with you.”
“She has many issues to deal with. But she’s coping just fine.”
Two people approached their table with plates of food, so Sam said, “Why don’t we try that dip in the pool now. Let some others use the table.”
“Fine idea,” she smiled.
“Here, let me get your plate. I’ll dump these in the trash can.”
They found two lounges pool-side, and Sue doffed her hat, coverup, and sunglasses. She dove into the deep end of the pool before Sam could soak up her curvaceous body. He took off his shirt and joined her in the pool, dog paddling next to her.
She giggled, “I so enjoy this, but please watch the time for me on your watch. Ten minutes max!”
She took off and swam the length of the pool and back, dodging several people on the way. When she returned, Sam said, “You should come over here at night sometime. You could swim as long as you wanted.”
“I don’t know if that would be appropriate, although the invitation is tempting. I like to limit my social contacts with my patients. I prefer a completely professional stance. I’ve found that I’m more successful that way.”
“Maybe sometime when Becky’s away.”
She looked Sam in the eye, her green eyes playful. “Perhaps.”
Ten minutes later, Sam watched her climb out of the pool and dry herself with a towel. His loins ached. Then she disappeared into the wispy cloud, hat, and sunglasses again.
I need to see more of this woman! How do I do that?
At 5:00 P.M., as the sun dropped toward the water, Sam went down on the beach and supervised the building of a fire in the large, concrete fire ring in front of the house. Sue joined him as the fire caught and began to crackle. She had changed into a long-sleeved white T-shirt and tight blue jeans. She still wore the floppy hat and sunglasses. If possible, she was even sexier than before.
Becky had brought down a batch of long, two-pronged roasting skewers, bags of marshmallows, and chocolate-covered graham crackers. The teens had settled around the fire in beach chairs to make Smores. Sam noticed that Becky had managed to talk ten of them into staying here. At least for now. Who knew what they would do later? One of the boys had produced a guitar and some of the others joined him in singing some songs Sam didn’t recognize.
I guess I’m getting old! he thought.
Not wanting to stifle the kids’ fun, he motioned for Sue to walk down the beach with him. She obliged.
“Well, your nemesis is calling it a day,” he laughed, pointing at the orange ball of the sun on the horizon.
“You must think I’m a vampire,” she giggled. “That I only come to life after dark?”
“At least you weren’t in your coffin all day. I’m glad of that—I got to spend a little time with you,” he chuckled.
“I enjoyed the time with you, too.”
They walked in silence for a bit, San Clemente Pier growing closer. Sam broke the silence.
“Do you date, Sue?”
She looked at him, knowing this was dangerous ground. She shouldn’t even consider dating this man, though he was a hunk! But also the equivalent of a patient’s parent.
“Of course,” she said, then bit her tongue—too late.
“Then maybe we could have dinner sometime. After dark, of course,” he laughed. “Then maybe you could show some skin.”
“I have a strict policy against dating parents of clients,” she forced herself to say. She really had wanted to say, “That would be nice. When?”
In actuality, she hadn’t dated much lately and was yearning for some adult male companionship. Talking to troubled teens day in and day out was not conducive to normal adult behavior. She was sorely in need of adult male interaction. She had enjoyed her afte
rnoon with Sam Crown immensely, though they only had a few moments alone during the day.
Sam didn’t give up on her yet. “Technically, Becky is an orphan. I’m only her legal guardian, because at times there are things that need doing that a minor can’t do. Like authorizing you to see her, for example.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she answered. “But we wouldn’t be able to discuss anything Becky has confided to me.”
“I wouldn’t be able to discuss any of my clients either,” he countered with a chuckle. “How about tomorrow night? A nice pleasant way to end the weekend.”
“That would be acceptable. I have nothing planned,” she managed to say, her heart pounding.
“Good. I’ll pick you up at your house at 7?”
“That’s fine. Dress code?”
“Beach casual. We’ll run down to the harbor to Wind & Sea. Get a nice private booth, get acquainted.”
“Hmm. I’m looking forward to it. Brr! I should have brought my coat. It’s become quite chilly!” she said, quite pleased with herself for making the date.
“I’d loan you mine, but I didn’t bring one either. Let’s turn back. It is January after all. Luckily, we had a nice day for Becky’s party.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and she pushed up against him to share his body heat. “That’s better. Thank you.”
And so began the seduction of Susan Reinhart.
Chapter 11
Saturday, January 29, 2000
San Clemente, CA
Sam’s third dinner date with Sue was on Saturday, January 29th. Sam drove the Camaro—top up, of course—to her house in San Clemente to pick her up. He hadn’t tried to get her in bed yet. He wanted to make sure that she would accept when he made his move. He also hadn’t told Becky that he was dating her shrink. He didn’t know how she would react if she found out. He would deal with that later if this thing with Sue went anywhere. Besides, Sue was just one of the several women he was seeing off and on. She was the only one he hadn’t slept with. The anticipation was killing him! He wanted to see what her body looked like with all those clothes off.