The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 7

by Maxim Jakubowski

  “A little one.”

  She rallied her men back to work. They still devoured her with their eyes, but there was obvious respect too for a boss who knew her craft.

  “A goddess with a hard hat,” Arnold mused.

  The following day a dump truck was painstakingly guided beneath the arch with barely an inch to spare. It unloaded rich, dark earth into the crater and returned three more times. Another crew arrived to smooth out the soil and place stones to mark off where trees would be planted.

  It was quieter work than had gone on the previous two weeks. Arnold came by late in the afternoon as the workers were breaking for the day. He was surprised to find Lauren and Ricker chatting in the one area of the courtyard where a shadow had formed shade from the unrelenting sun. Her voice was hushed, but he could make it out clearly. She spoke to Ricker in an instructive tone.

  “Just try it,” she said. “And don’t be a shy guy. Oh, and don’t forget . . .” She took something out of a plastic bag and tossed it to Ricker who fumbled it and finally clasped it to his chest.

  Ricker nodded and turned toward Arnold; he tottered past with a huge grin.

  “What was that about? What did you give him?”

  “Seems Alvin is sweet on Emmeline.”

  “Alvin? Emmeline?”

  “Mr Ricker and Mrs Ginty.”

  “Go on!”

  “It’s true. He was asking me how he should ask her for a date.”

  “Ricker? So what did you toss to him?”

  “Deodorant.” She laughed.

  “Thank God.”

  “Hey, Ben, can I ask you another big favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “Can I take a bath in that big old tub of yours? I feel like the dirtiest woman on the planet and I’ve been dreaming of a good soak ever since I saw it. I brought a change of clothes.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, I already picked up some bubble bath.” She grinned as she held up the same plastic bag from which she had retrieved Ricker’s deodorant.

  Arnold led her to the lobby and the elevator. The tenants who passed through all made it a point to greet her and exchange small talk. A young woman who had been known among the tenants as “the single girl with the two babies” got off the elevator.

  “Hi, Maria. We still on for Thursday?”

  “Lauren, yes, thank you. Then just two more classes and I get my certificate.”

  “Cool.”

  They stepped onto the elevator.

  “What was that about?” Arnold asked, one brow raised.

  “Oh, Maria’s a nice girl. She was asking me if I might have some work for her. I said I’d teach her landscaping, but she’s going to school to be a vet tech or something. Anyway, I told her I’d sit her kids Thursday. She usually has to haul them across town to her mom’s. It’s no big deal.”

  “You’re babysitting?”

  Lauren shrugged then stepped into the hallway as the doors opened. Arnold stepped ahead of her and opened his apartment door.

  “Yuck! Can’t wait to get into that tub.” He watched her stride down the corridor as if she lived there. She tugged at the knot binding the fabric around her breasts. It fell to the floor.

  “I’ll get that,” she said, as he watched her bare back disappear into his bathroom.

  He sat looking out his bay windows listening to the water fill the tub. Then it stopped and he heard Lauren’s long, heartfelt “Ooooooo!” as she settled into the water. He smiled at the sounds of gentle splashing and thought that he would miss her when the job was done.

  He wasn’t prepared for the sadness that welled up inside his chest. Perhaps they could keep in touch. He would like to take her to the city’s museums, symphony, show her its hidden treasures. But no, she was a young woman; she had to have a life beyond this temporary meeting at life’s crossroads. There had to be a young man somewhere in the picture.

  “Hey, Ben! Where’d you go?”

  “I’m right here . . . do you need something?”

  “No . . . you just got awfully quiet. C’mere and keep me company.”

  “Young lady, I don’t think that would be proper.”

  “Oh, c’mon, I’m covered in bubble stuff. Besides, I want to talk to you about the job.”

  He got up and walked the short corridor to the bathroom, took a breath and stepped through the opened door. He put the cover down on the toilet and sat. So dignified, he thought.

  Lauren was indeed shielded by the thick layer of foam up to her collarbones. But then she raised one leg out of the water. The suds slid down her limb and she moaned, “Oh, this feels so good.”

  “Um, you said you wanted to talk about the job.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re all set for the trees, but we’ll need to bring in a crane to lift them over the building.”

  “My God, how large are these trees you’re bringing in?”

  “Well, pretty big . . . and tall. We won’t be able to back them through that arch. The dump trucks barely fit. Anyway, I have to clear permits with the city so we won’t start that phase until next week.”

  “Oh.”

  She noticed his frown. “Um, I have a couple of other jobs I have to get started too, so . . .”

  Already he was going to miss her being around, if only for a few days. “I – of course, I understand.”

  Lauren sat up and he couldn’t avoid noticing her brown nipples, pixilated through the translucent suds.

  “Ooops.” She slid back beneath the foam. “Sorry . . . don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just . . . forget.”

  “Hmm, well, I never knew a young woman who was so casual about . . . well about . . .”

  “Letting a man catch me naked?”

  “Yes, well, you explained your . . . um . . . predilections.”

  “Ha! My Mom would have used another word. She just knew I was bound for Hell.”

  “Maybe she was just being protective.”

  “Mrs Califani, she’s protective. She scolds me for – what did she call it? – running around like a bollicky bambina. But my Mom, well, see . . . she found religion.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I guess it happened right after I was born. Dad wanted to have more kids, but he said something happened to Mom; she got all weirded-out about sex. Then she kinda fell in with some local church. Before he knew it, she’s telling him she’s getting a divorce. It really hit my Dad hard, you know? He really loved her – at least, he loved the girl he married, the one she used to be.

  “Anyway, Mom was determined to save me. She got custody and took me out west, hooked up with some congregation of fundamentalists. I had to go to church school. That was hell. It was beautiful country though, so every chance I’d get I’d shed my clothes and go wandering through the woods. Got caught, got punished. I don’t know how I held out so long. I just lived for my 18th birthday, especially after I got caught playing doctor with a boy.”

  “Well, young kids are curious about each other.”

  “I was sixteen.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, well, after that my Mom told me I was going to marry some kid in the congregation just as soon as I reached legal age. And that I better learn to be obedient and all this other crap. Can you imagine? Like it was the Middle Ages or something. The morning of my 18th birthday I packed some stuff, grabbed the money I managed to save and took a bus all the way back to the East Coast. I moved in with my Dad, and we’ve been together ever since – well, until he moved into the assisted living place.”

  “I take it your Dad is more . . . tolerant of your proclivities.”

  “He loves his little girl.” She smiled. “He let me be me, let me find my own way. I went to law school, you know.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, but I loved the work I did with my Dad and wanted to keep the business going when he retired. I wasn’t much for the lawyer gig anyway – no offense, of course.”

  “None taken,” he chuckled.

&
nbsp; “I remember, though, discussing a case in class – Remy vs. Halloran Industries.”

  Arnold’s back stiffened.

  “Halloran’s lawyer had pretty much torn the plaintiff’s case to shreds. Everyone expected him to seek a directed verdict of dismissal. But then they settled – it was one of the largest settlements up until that time. I wondered why – until I met the great B. Andrew Arnold.”

  Arnold’s eyes were fixed to his knees, but then he looked straight into hers. “A good lawyer has to do what’s in the best interest of his client. Children were injured. And Mr Halloran was a decent man. If he had walked away with a judgment, he would not have been able to live with himself. It would have eaten him alive.”

  “Yeah . . . that’s kinda what I thought. Here, help me up.” She reached up her hand.

  He took it and she stood, the soapy foam clothed her nakedness momentarily until gravity began to undress her. “I’ll need to shower now.”

  “Yes . . . of course.” He left her and began to reach for the door to close it. Then he shrugged and left it open. The sound of spraying water followed him back to his living room.

  Later she emerged, her hair still damp. She was dressed in a modest top and faded jeans.

  “Ben, that courtyard of yours – I’m going to make something very special for you.” She smiled and then stepped through his door.

  Arnold occupied himself with other matters, different contractors and crews of workmen. He scheduled a cleaning of the façade, and brought in specialists to restore the lobby and install new lighting. But it was otherwise quiet throughout the building, and the tenants behaved like a bunch of kids moping around at the end of summer vacation. They missed her too, and the gentle, rejuvenating electricity she brought to the place.

  Several had stopped him in the lobby or hallways and asked him if she would be back. He assured them she would; there was still more work to do on the courtyard.

  “But, what is it going to be?” Mrs Riley asked him.

  “An oasis, dear, a nice cool and shady place to enjoy the summer days. And Miss Darby assures me it will be completed in time to enjoy most of the rest of the season.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful. She’s such a sweet girl – and so capable. Doesn’t wear a lot of clothes, have you noticed?”

  “Yes, Mrs Riley, I’ve noticed.”

  In the evening he sat looking out his window beyond the rooftops. The ballpark lights glared in the distance. He thought of the few ballgames they had attended, and while he was a casual fan, she was indeed a fanatic. He remembered how her hair shone golden in the bleachers, and how many a head had turned in her direction, and how even the pitchers in the bullpen vied to get her attention.

  His memories of her had become so vivid, so filled with sunshine and bright colors.

  The knock at his door startled him. He groaned as he pushed himself out of the seat he’d occupied for more than an hour, and shuffled toward the door.

  The knock came again as he turned the doorknob and swung it open.

  “Hi.”

  “Lauren? What . . .”

  “Babysitting, remember? It’s Thursday – Maria just got home. I need to ask you something, Ben.”

  “Sure, come in.” He noted her attire, modest for Lauren: jeans and a sleeveless tee, under which her breasts jostled unhindered.

  “Gee, did I wake you up? Where are the lights?”

  “I like it dark. There, flick on a lamp.”

  Lauren clicked the switch on a small end table lamp. It didn’t do much to illuminate the room. She sat on the small couch and crossed her legs.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Maria – she’s not a tenant.”

  “What do you mean? I’ve seen her around the building – well, it must be two years.”

  “No – I mean, she just kinda moved in. See, she used to know someone who lived here and when that person moved out, she moved into his flat.”

  “A squatter?”

  “I guess. Ben, she had to move out of her mom’s place because she got into trouble with some people in her neighborhood – dangerous people. The poor kid doesn’t really have a dime; she’s trying to get through school so she can support her kids. Now she’s afraid, with the ownership change, that they’re going to find out she’s been here all this time not paying rent.”

  Arnold laughed out loud and grabbed his sides. “Jesus! What a bunch of boobs. How the hell did the managers miss her? Didn’t they realize they had a vacant apartment?”

  “The thing is, Ben, she kinda had to do favors for the former super.”

  “Favors? You mean Carlos? He disappeared before the sale.” Then his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “What kind of favors?”

  “I don’t think I need to draw you a picture. In exchange he fixed it so the management company didn’t know.”

  “I always had a feeling about that. . . what a slimy bastard.”

  “Ben, she did what she had to do, but now she’s scared, she’s . . .”

  “Tell her to sign up for the Section 8 housing aid at the public assistance office. That’ll cover her rent. Tell her it’s okay.”

  “Thanks . . . I knew you’d . . . I mean, I just knew . . .”

  “Forget it. Just another lost lamb amongst the flock.”

  She lifted a brown paper package onto her lap. He hadn’t noticed it before.

  “This was downstairs. It’s addressed to you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Can I open it? I love opening packages.”

  “I . . . well, what is it?”

  She shrugged and began to tear at the brown wrapping. She lifted an object shielded in protective wrap. She gingerly peeled it away.

  “Oh, my gosh, it’s like a miniature portrait. It’s . . . Anstis.”

  Arnold reached and Lauren stood to give him the portrait that was about as large as a dinner plate. She stood to his side and peered over his shoulder as he held it.

  “I . . . I almost forgot. I’d seen this listed in an estate auction. I couldn’t believe it. That was months ago.”

  The girl in the portrait sat on a boulder in a meadow. She was clad in blue jeans, holes in the knees, which she hugged together. She wore a loose flannel shirt, one shoulder covered with a spray of blond hair.

  “May I?” Lauren reached for a typed index card taped to the frame. “‘Portrait of Anstis Sally Peckering – artist unknown.’ God, she was pretty. You must have loved her so much.”

  He didn’t say anything. Lauren touched his shoulder, then returned to the couch.

  Finally he looked up from the portrait, but he looked past Lauren.

  “Old Ricker was right – timing is everything. That’s what I’ve had, a lot of time. I think – I think you can just live too long. All that time – all so meaningless.”

  His eyes focused on Lauren. “Her father – oh, he was a piece of work. He thought his immortality was vested in a company, a bloodless, soulless thing that couldn’t love you back if you wanted it to. She wasted what time she had – what time we had – so his company would go on. Well, it didn’t – I’d be surprised if anyone even remembers it. So, he made his mark? Plenty of people make their mark – you know what, they still end up in the graveyard, and that mark fades real fast.”

  Lauren had drawn up her knees and hugged them to her chest. Her hair spilled over one shoulder.

  “I wish . . . I wish my Mom and I could have gotten together one more time. I wrote to her after I left and got settled in with Dad, but she never wrote back. We only got word last year that she’d died. I was always sorry for that. She was my Mom, after all, and I guess . . . I guess I loved her. I just wish we could have said that to each other, never mind we’d never see eye-to-eye about other stuff. But it never happened. I’m sorry for that, but I’m not – that is, I couldn’t do anything about that, you know what I mean?”

  He sighed. “It’s just the finality of it.”

  He lifted the portrait. “She was m
y wife. She never took my name; we never had words spoken to that effect, or a piece of paper to certify it. But she was my wife.”

  Lauren stood up and then stepped in front of him. She gently tugged at the portrait. “Can I borrow this for a little while? I promise I’ll bring it back safe and sound.”

  “I . . . suppose.”

  She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “You’re a good person, Ben, but I think . . . well, it seems like you’re always beating yourself up, and I can’t figure out why.”

  She patted his shoulder. “I gotta get going. Have to drive to the Cape tomorrow to scout out another job. See you Monday. And, thanks again – about Maria.”

  He nodded, then watched her go.

  It rained that weekend and the gloom penetrated to the building’s corridors. It seemed as if everyone had locked themselves away in their apartments. But Monday dawn broke clear and cooler than it had been.

  Arnold bolted up in bed at the sound of sirens from the street below. He hurried to the window and looked down to see two police cruisers shepherding an immense crane truck along the avenue. It stopped in front of the building.

  He hurriedly dressed and went downstairs. Some of the other tenants had gathered there.

  “I thought they were fire trucks,” Mrs Ginty said.

  “We would have heard the alarms, dear,” Ricker assured her.

  Dear? Arnold smiled. He went out to the street where Lauren gestured to the crane operator. She wore gray boy shorts and a cropped T-shirt, and as she stretched he knew it was just a matter of millimeters before the crescent swells of her breasts would be revealed. A detail cop’s mouth hung open as he watched her impromptu choreography.

  A flatbed truck hauling a large pine tree pulled next to the crane, restricting the avenue. The cop reluctantly peeled his eyes off Lauren and set about directing traffic. Arnold stayed back, deciding it was best not to distract her. A crowd had gathered and as the crane began to lift the pine above the truck they became more vocal.

  Other workmen on the roof calculated the distance needed to clear the building and signaled the crane operator. The big pine was swung out of sight as the crowd broke into applause. The truck pulled away and another took its place. This one carried several smaller, deciduous trees. They too were lifted over the building, then another pulled up – another pine. It took all of the morning and most of the afternoon before the operation was completed. The cruisers then guided the crane up the avenue.