Male Review

by Lillian Grant

  “I think she’s got a red scooter so I doubt she has much use for a cab, a hat, or a chauffeur.”

  “Dad?”

  “Okay. I met her at the newsagents when I went to get my morning paper. She told me her hot water heater was out of service so I said she was welcome to shower here. I gave her the spare key and figured she’d be gone before I got back from my morning constitutional.”

  “So, why was she wearing Mum’s robe?”

  Her dad chuckled. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

  “What is?”

  “When I got home and heard the water running I thought Vivienne was back. I completely forgot about Milly. In my excitement I burst into the bathroom. Milly screamed and dropped the showerhead as she desperately tried to cover herself. In a panic she grabbed her clothes that were slung over the top of the shower screen and everything she had got soaked. Seeing it was my fault the least I could do was offer her something to wear home. I figured the robe was the least likely to offend. Milly’s sense of style is a little different to your mother’s.”

  “Did you get wet as well? Is that why you were only wearing a towel when Mum saw you?”

  He shook his head. “It’s probably best we don’t go there.”

  “You mean, you mean … you burst into the bathroom naked?”

  He shrugged and cleared his throat. “What can I say? I was excited.”

  Meg really didn’t want a picture of her dad excited in her head. If she had any more revelations about her parents’ private life Meg would take a vow of chastity and enter a convent, her libido dead forever. “And you think if Mum was back she would be delighted to see you naked?”

  “I figured she must have taken what I told her on board and decided to lighten up some if she’d come home without me having to beg her.”

  Meg sighed, “I think she might have lightened up, but not in the way you hoped.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I told you she was drinking. Well, it wasn’t sherry. She was three sheets to the wind and torn between calling you every name under the sun and sobbing. When I left she was lurching toward a naked male stripper. I didn’t stay to see what happened next. I came to talk to you so we can sort this mess out once and for all. You’re both behaving like children. She obviously still loves you in her own way or she wouldn’t care about Milly. Why can’t you just go and talk to her?”

  Her dad grinned. “I think I just might, but not today. When did you say Laura was opening the bar?”

  “Friday, why?”

  “I’ve got a brilliant idea.”

  “Am I going to like it?”

  Her dad shrugged. “Probably best I keep it to myself.”

  Meg buried her face in her hands. “Oh God, I wish I had enough money to run away to Fiji and never come back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Meg tried to keep her mind occupied with thoughts other than what her father might be planning to do at the bar on Friday to win back her mother. At one end of the scale was him getting down on his knees and begging her to come home in front of a room full of people. She didn’t even want to consider the possibilities at the other end of the scale. She’d been sworn to secrecy about the Milly incident, although how letting her mother think she was married to an adulterer helped his cause, she had no idea. He’d seemed particularly happy the bar was a male strip joint. Too happy for her liking.

  She turned the key in the lock and shoved her flat door open. Her mother lay on the sofa holding a bag of frozen peas to her head. An empty pizza box sat on the coffee table along with an upturned tub of Chunky Monkey ice cream. The confection had gone soft and was currently spreading across the pine timber top and dripping onto the plush pile carpet.

  Maud sat at the desk in the corner banging away on Sam’s netbook.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Shh, don’t shout.”

  Don’t shout? Don’t shout. Her mother had a nerve. Getting drunk was one thing, wasting ice cream was another. With her credit card maxed out, no sign of a lottery win or any wages from Laura, and her bank account taking on a deathly pallor, Meg could no longer afford luxury items like Ben & Jerry’s, and that had been her last tub. She’d been saving the Chunky Monkey for an emergency and now her mother had spilt the whole lot.

  “What the fuck happened to my ice cream?”

  Her mother opened one eye and whispered, “Don’t swear. You’ll go to hell.”

  “Hell couldn’t be any worse than this. I was saving it for an emergency. What am I going to do now if something bad happens?”

  Eyes closed and swallowing loudly her mother whispered, “Something bad did happen.”

  “No it didn’t. You got pissed and if you dare throw up on the sofa I’ll make you sleep with the hobos under the viaduct. I wonder how that would affect your precious reputation.”

  “My reputation is in tatters already. Your father has made me a laughingstock. I’m going into religious seclusion and you’re coming with me. We don’t need men.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. Her mother might not need a man, but Meg did and her man was getting more and more elusive. She wanted to scream, but if she started she would never stop.

  Maud swiveled her chair around. “You got a newspaper?”

  “No. Do I look like I have a paper? What am I, the local newsagent?”

  “When you get back from buying one, I’ll borrow it.”

  “I don’t want a paper.”

  “You just said you were going to the newsagent. You must be losing your marbles. Your grandmother started that way. One minute she couldn’t remember what she had gone to the grocery store for and the next she woke up in Mr. Minola’s bed. Claimed she forgot where she lived. Funny, she often ended up at the Minola’s when she got lost, but only when his wife was away performing with St Luke’s choral society.”

  The drunk on the sofa let out a theatrically loud shh as she pressed the peas tighter against her head. She slapped her hand around on the table. “My head hurts. I need Panadol.”

  Maud shook her head. “She’s always been a messy drunk. Could never hold her liquor or keep her pants up when she was younger. All the boys used to ply her with booze and she had no idea why she was so popular. Oh, how times have changed. Now poor Robert needs a crowbar to break her out of her chastity belt and she probably recites Hail Marys while he gets his jollies.”

  Meg kicked off her shoes and frowned. “This is my mother we’re talking about?”

  “She’s a McDermott and McDermott women have a certain reputation. Any man who marries one can expect a busy life if not a long one. Looks like your dad lucked out.”

  “You mean the oversexed thing is hereditary and you can’t help it? Do I have this thing? Why doesn’t my mother?”

  With a chuckle Maud turned back to the netbook and began tapping away.

  Maud’s version of her mother’s younger days didn’t jell with the middle-aged woman who refused to let anyone believe she ever had sex. As much as it pained her to think about sex and her parents, her poor dad must feel totally robbed. And Meg couldn’t help but wonder if her infatuation with having sex with Sam was a symptom of the family disease and whether she really loved him. Did he know about the McDermott women’s reputation?

  “You going to get that paper?”

  Meg looked over Maud’s shoulder, sure she must be surfing the net for porn. Instead she was reading local death notices. “What do you need the paper for? And what on earth are you doing on the internet? Checking to see if you’re still alive?”

  “Funny. Just like your Aunt June, aren’t you?” June was a certified nut job into alternative therapy and commune style living, mostly nude commune style living. Back in the day, she used to be a stand-up comedian. Meg had seen DVDs and she was hilarious, if not a little unhinged.

  “I got a hot tip from Mrs. Carter. She’s about to move in to that new Retirement Village on Kemp. Says she found out about the place from the obituaries.” />
  Meg sat on the arm of the sofa. “How does that work?”

  Maud kept tapping, jumping from notice to notice. “Some of them have the address of where the dearly departed lived or where they fell off the perch. See this one,” she pointed an arthritic finger at the screen. “Bernie Shrimpton passed peacefully in his sleep. Will be missed by all his friends at the Duckshore Retirement Home.”

  “Duckshore? The one by the park? It’s got a lovely view.”

  “Lovely view, my arse. The main building is on the banks of a mud hole. Besides, the place is full of old people.”

  Meg rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. No matter what Maud thought of Duckshore, it seemed she might be about to lose one of her lodgers. “Do I take it you’re planning to move out?”

  “Sure. I need to find my own place if I want to play the field.”

  “What about Eric?”

  “I dumped him. He was too clingy and needy. Living with you when you had that young buck here was one thing, but a house full of women is another. You’ll both cramp my style. Nothing turns a man off faster than a group of nagging women. Besides, if your mother decides to get her game on I can’t compete, she’s too young and athletic.”

  “And what about me?”

  Maud glanced at her. “That would be wrong. You’re family, and ever since the closet incident Christmas 1957 I don’t do family. Besides, I’m not that desperate.”

  Meg was about to ask what closet incident, but decided not to be dragged into letting Maud share more sordid details from her past.

  “I meant what about competing with me?”

  “If Vivienne gets back up to speed, you aren’t even in our league. Too uptight.”

  “So, you don’t think I have the family horny-itis?”

  Maud chuckled. “Could be it’s just lying dormant and you’re a late bloomer. Living with Vivienne would be enough to quash anyone’s sex drive.”

  Funny, it hadn’t quashed Maud’s.

  “I’ll go and get you that paper.”

  A groan of Panadol drifted through the front door just before Meg slammed it shut. If Maud felt motivated to move out, Meg would do anything to help her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By the time Meg got back from the store her mother had gone to bed, even though it was only just after five-thirty in the afternoon. Maud had practically snatched the newspaper from her hand and retreated to the desk where she sat and muttered under her breath. She seemed to be having trouble finding any dead people who resided in establishments that met her exacting standards. Meg would have offered to help with the search, but she needed to get ready to collect Sam. Leaving Maud to her quest she retreated to her room. She’d strewn her bed with clothes by the time she had decided on a black dress that hugged her figure. She’d bought the frock recently in the hope of squeezing into it one day and apparently the unplanned workout at the gym, and credit crunch on her snack shopping habits, had finally done the trick. She topped the outfit off with a liberal application of mascara and red lipstick along with four inch stiletto heels and a matching handbag. Hair sprayed to give it some semblance of style, she grudgingly admitted she didn’t look too bad. After one last squirt of perfume she checked her watch. Shit, she only had twenty minutes until she needed to be at the gym.

  Her arrival in the living room didn’t go unnoticed. Maud let out a low whistle. “Maybe I was a bit hasty saying you weren’t my type. You don’t scrub up too bad.”

  High praise indeed from the woman who regularly shopped at Sydney’s most exclusive transvestite boutique. Maud claimed men who dressed as women had more style. Meg didn’t know if she would call the clothes they wore style, but they certainly garnered them attention.

  “Who’s the lucky fella?”

  Meg shrugged. “No one. I thought I’d treat myself and dress like a girl for once.”

  Maud huffed, obviously not convinced. “I think you’re hiding your … what did you call it? Horny-itis … under a bush.” The old lady chuckled at her inappropriate joke.

  Without another word, Meg stepped out the front door and slammed it shut behind her. The less Maud knew about Meg’s love life the better.

  Sam leaned with his butt against the counter, back to the door, as he listened in a daze. He had no idea Meg’s father had his phone number. With a frown creasing his brow he wondered what the man wanted from him.

  “So, are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Sure, I’ve got the day off.”

  “And not a word to Meg or Vivienne. Agreed?”

  “Why?”

  “Never mind why. Either you want to help with the long game, son, or you don’t. Do you want my daughter to yourself?”

  Heat flushed Sam’s cheeks. As much as he loved having sex with Meg, he was mindful that most fathers preferred their daughters get married before they raised their skirts. Not that there would any point in denying what they were up to. The man had caught them red handed and suggested Sam stow the python before Mrs. Riley found them. He hoped he would be as calm if he ever found himself in Robert’s position, assuming he had a little girl one day. He could imagine a pint sized version of Meg running around calling him Daddy, but he would never get enough time alone with Meg to even discuss what they were doing tomorrow, as long as Vivienne was living with her, never mind developing a relationship strong enough to consider bringing a child into the world.

  “I want to help. I want to help. Just tell me what time.”

  “Around two pm and bring your dancing shoes.”

  “Bring my what?”

  A wolf whistle from Lance had Sam glancing over his shoulder. He all but dropped the phone at the dazzling vision standing in the foyer. She was stunning. He could hardly believe that only a few weeks ago he’d had to talk her into wearing a dress to her dad’s birthday party. It appeared their relationship was finally starting to make her realize she was a beautiful woman. His beautiful woman who had dressed up just for him.

  Lance grinned at him. “Your ride has arrived.” He winked at Meg. “Hey, gorgeous. Don’t you look the stunner. I couldn’t have given you a better makeover. I’m almost tempted to ask you out myself.”

  Sam glared at him. “And what about Rod?”

  “She’s not his type. He prefers something more macho. You’d be more his taste.” He squeezed Sam’s bicep. “All rippling muscle, bad boy looks, and motor revving between your thighs. Just the thought of it makes me go weak at the knees.” With his head resting on the heel of his hand Lance stared at Meg. “How about you, cupcake? Does he make you go all weak at the knees?”

  Meg smiled at Sam. “He makes me go weak all over.”

  She sauntered toward the counter, hips swaying seductively beneath the tight black fabric. Sam held the phone in his hand, his conversation forgotten until the yells from Meg’s father brought him back to earth. He lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Two. I’ll be there. Bye.”

  He hit end and shoved the phone in his jean’s pocket before vaulting the counter and stopping in front of Meg, staring at her. She looked so gorgeous he was afraid he might mess her up if he kissed her or pulled her into his arms. He had no complaint about the way she was dressed, but he couldn’t help but worry he’d made her think they were going on a date tonight. Not that a date was a bad idea, but he wanted their first to be special, preferably at an exclusive restaurant, and he hadn’t organized anything yet.

  Meg slid her arms around his neck. “You don’t have a kiss for me?”

  “You look so good I don’t want to mess you up.”

  She whispered, “I dressed like this especially so you could mess me up.”

  He slid his arms around her waist and held her tight to him, and then planted soft kisses along her jaw line before claiming her mouth. Oblivious to anything other than the feel of Meg’s warm curves pressed against him, her fingers combing through his hair, and the taste of her mouth as she teased and tangled with his tongue he fell completely under her spell.
A bout of coughing from Lance brought Sam back to his senses and they pulled apart, chests heaving. Sam smiled at Meg and she grinned back.

  “Now that was more like the welcome I expected.”

  Lance called to them. “Yoo-hoo. Unless you want to set the sprinkler system off, I think you two need to move along.” He lifted his T-shirt and wafted it. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

  Meg eased out of Sam’s embrace, crossed to the counter, leaned over and dropped a kiss on Lance’s cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “Looking after Maud the other day. She’s still raving about you.”

  Lance grimaced. “Just when I was thinking maybe trying a girl wouldn’t be so bad, you go and scare the budding straight right out of me.”

  Sam took her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Shall we?”

  Meg raised an eyebrow seductively. “I thought you would never ask.”

  Hand in hand they left the building and headed to the underground car park.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Meg let Sam’s hand go and rummaged in her bag looking for her car keys. She really needed to sort the thing out; it was like a bottomless pit. When her fingers finally brushed cool metal she closed them around her prize and tugged them out.

  “Bugger.”

  Sam leaned his butt against the side of her compact Korean car and pulled her into his arms “Problem?”

  She waved the keys. “I must have picked up Maud’s bunch as well as my own.”

  “Does she need them?”

  Meg shook her head. “No, she’s at home reading the obituaries.”

  “I’m not even going to ask. So, what do you want to do once you find your keys? It seems a shame not to show you off now you’ve gone to so much trouble to dress up. If I’d known you were going to look like that, I would have booked a table somewhere.”

  “I didn’t dress like this so we could go out.”

  “No?”

  “I wanted to whet your appetite.”

  “It’s whetted.” He grinned at her when she shuddered under his steamy gaze. “How about we go and get a pizza or something and I keep you for dessert?”