Chapter 38: Smiles

“Peter, you need to do something about my daughter. She is starting to drive us all nuts!” exclaimed Shirley Boscow into the telephone. It was the first Friday morning of May, only five weeks from Lauren and Peter’s wedding, and Lauren was becoming supremely nervous. Between the wedding and the final flourishes on the house remodeling, Shirley’s daughter had taken to snapping at everyone.

Shirley admitted to herself that her daughter was running true to form. Lauren had always been a bit of a worrywart. Her first wedding had been no better. Totally different from her youngest sister; Christy had been happy-go-lucky her entire life!

Peter laughed. “Oh, really?”

Shirley described Lauren’s behavior. “You need to take her out to dinner, and then ... and then...” She couldn’t say the words that came to mind, ‘ ... get her well fucked!’ That was precisely what Lauren needed, but her mother couldn’t say such things.

“Uh, huh. And then what?” teased Peter. “Does she need a night of ‘and then’? A weekend?”

“Oh, behave!”

“Listen, I have an idea. Meet me at her house at lunch. You can help me pack a few things for her and I’ll take her off your hands for a couple of days. Can you stay with the kids?”

Peter showed up at Lauren’s office shortly before five, though after greeting her, he slipped back into the tech support area to talk shop. He came back out to the lobby as everyone started leaving. “Ready to go?” he asked.

She looked at him curiously. “Were we going somewhere?” she asked with a smile.

Peter nodded. “How about dinner?”

“What about Jimmy and Holly?”

“I called your mom. She’s taking care of dinner for them, she and your dad.”

Lauren snorted. “Dad? Cooking? My God, they’ll have food poisoning!” She stood and grabbed her purse, then took his hand as he led her outside.

Lauren was surprised when Peter steered his Jeep away from town and towards the interstate. Once they were on the highway heading south, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“Blaine.”

Lauren gaped at him. Blaine was over an hour’s drive south, even at the speeds Peter liked to drive at. “What?”

Peter ignored the implicit question. “That’s a very nice outfit you have on.” Lauren had worn a blue pinstriped skirt suit to work. The skirt came to mid-thigh and the jacket was fitted and worn over a crisp white blouse. She was wearing medium heels.

“Thank you. Blaine?” she asked again.

“Are you wearing stockings or pantyhose?” he asked, still ignoring her question. He reached over and caressed Lauren’s left thigh. She shivered involuntarily, and Peter slipped a finger between her legs and under her skirt. He answered his own question when he felt her skin above the elastic lace top of her stockings. “Very nice,” he commented.

“Don’t ignore me! Blaine?” Lauren blushed at his comment. She hadn’t bought pantyhose in months; Peter liked to make love to her while she was wearing stockings and high heels.

“I know a very nice restaurant in Blaine. Take off your panties.”

“Peter! Are you nuts?” She glanced around guiltily at the road. The days were already getting long enough that it was still daylight and would be for at least another few hours.

Peter snorted derisively. “What? We’re going to get ticketed by the Underwear Police?”

Lauren rolled her eyes, but complied, looking nervously around at the nearest cars. She tugged the snug skirt up slightly and reached under, to pull off the lacy black thong.

“Bra, too,” he requested. Lauren was on the verge of protesting, but he said, “Please?”

“Jesus!” she muttered under her breath. She pointed out the windshield. “Just you keep an eye on the road, mister!” She looked around at traffic again, then undid her seat belt. Shifting forward, she pulled off her jacket and laid it in her lap. Then, face red, she unbuttoned her blouse and undid the front clasp on the lacy black bra. Quickly looking around, she peeled the blouse and bra off her arms, then hurriedly stuck her arms back into the blouse and pulled it tight around her. She grabbed up her jacket and pulled it back on hurriedly, her tits jiggling, pleasantly unbound. “Jesus!” She began to button her blouse and readjust her clothing.

Peter smiled. He had been watching his fiancée out of the corner of his eye and liked the view he had gotten. So had the trucker who had passed them. He had suddenly slowed down when he got next to them, though Lauren hadn’t noticed him. Peter waited until Lauren had gotten herself together again.

Peter hooked a thumb over his shoulder towards the back seat. “I brought some stuff with me. You’ve got some nicer shoes in your bag back there. You can put your undies away, too.”

Suspicious, Lauren reached behind them and pulled the small overnight bag forward. It was very light. Unzipping the top, she looked inside. All that was inside were a pair of black fuck-me pumps and some high-heeled sandals, along with her toilet kit and a makeup kit. “Peter, what is going on? You’re up to something!”

“Moi!” he replied innocently. Then he reached out and took her hand gently. “I know this nice restaurant in Blaine. They have a very nice dinner. They also have a very nice breakfast.”

“Peter!”

“Honey, you needed to get away for a bit. I love you dearly, but you are driving your family bonkers! Your mother told me to take you somewhere and get you laid!”

“What! She did no such thing!” argued Lauren.

Peter laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, she didn’t. She simply told me to take you somewhere and do something, anything, to calm you down. Then she helped me pack a bag with nothing in it but your high heels. I’m sure she thinks we’re going out to the malt shop, honey.”

Lauren’s face turned beet red. “You didn’t! What about the kids?”

“She and your father are spending the weekend at your house. They’ll be fine. She said she’d tell your dad exactly what you needed.”

Lauren groaned loudly and shook her head in disbelief. “So, this is it? I’m wearing the only clothes I’ll have this weekend? Were you planning on room service the entire time?”

“That does have a certain appeal, I admit, but no. There is this mall in Blaine, City Square. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” The City Square mall was the largest in the state. Not quite as large as the Mall of America in Minnesota, it still had three levels and a huge central atrium with two higher floors. It was pricey and far enough away that normally Lauren would never go there, other than in her dreams. “Maybe you’d like to see what you could do there with one of my credit cards?”

Lauren gasped in surprise. “Really?”

“Maybe pick up a few things for the honeymoon,” he suggested.

Suddenly Lauren was no longer worried about her clothing or lack of clothing. “Really?” she repeated, with a squeal like a schoolgirl.

“As far as I’m concerned, tonight we have dinner and sleep late. Tomorrow we can do the breakfast in bed thing, then you can put your suit back on and we can go shopping until you drop. Sunday, we sleep late and then come home. Okay?”

“Hmmm...” murmured Lauren, her eyes not precisely focused, as if she was contemplating a day of shopping with someone else’s money. “Okay!” she agreed enthusiastically.

Jimmy and Holly eyed their grandmother curiously when they came in the door. She bent down and kissed them both. “Where’s Mommy?” asked her granddaughter.

“She and Peter are away for the weekend. Grandpa and I are staying for a couple of days.”

“Where are you staying?” asked Jimmy. Normally when they were staying with their grandparents, they stayed over at their grandparents’ not the other way around.

“Upstairs, in your mother’s room. Why?”

Jimmy simply shrugged and wandered up to his room. Holly trailed Shirley around for a few minutes before heading upstairs herself.

Both children came pounding down the stairs when they heard their grandfather come in. Shirley had been making dinner in the kitchen, but before dinner could start, Jimmy insisted on taking the older man on a tour of the latest house construction, both upstairs and down. Shirley had the table set by the time they had returned.

“So exactly why are we staying in a motel that’s still under construction?” Frank Boscow asked his wife.

Shirley snorted. “Because your daughter needed to get away for a few days, that’s why. It came up suddenly.”

“Uh, huh,” said Frank skeptically. He knew precisely what his eldest daughter was up to and wasn’t precisely sure he approved. Like all fathers, he wanted all his daughters to grow up happy, with loving husbands and houses full of happy children, and stay the world’s oldest living virgins. The fact that he had wandered in on all three of them in their teens, in some fashion fooling around with their boyfriends, had never really eliminated this happy delusion.