Chapter 2

Thursday

When I woke the next morning, she was already up. I reached for her anyway and was disappointed. What strange tricks the mind plays. I knew she was not in bed but I was disappointed to discover the truth of it. I could smell coffee and bacon, the best alarm clock in the world.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone. I hadn’t started a day off like that in a long time. My phone said there was a text from Amanda, that it was precisely 8:51AM and 50 degrees outside and the high was going to be 51. I wondered how warm it was in Florida or maybe Puerto Rico. Amanda’s text read, “Kayla sounds happy but no details. Strange from her. I know you’re treating her right. Jealous.” No details might have been worse. When had she sent the text? Early, very early.

I washed my face and gargled to wake up, ran my fingers through my hair and threw on some sweat pants. It smelled like breakfast and I could get dressed later.

It seemed like she had the same idea. She was wearing one of my old T shirts that barely covered her ass, if she wasn’t leaning forward. She was leaning forward, arms on the counter, talking on her phone. Actually, she was doing a lot of listening from someone who seemed to be talking very quickly. Not her mom. Amanda almost never spoke quickly. I looked at her legs and ass, didn’t get an immediate boner and realized I was either sexually spent or becoming desensitized. Either way, not good.

I nuzzled up behind her and she pointed to what looked like chorizo and eggs in a pan on the stove as well as a plate of bacon. Every now and then she agreed with whoever she was talking to. I had no idea who and it seemed like this might be a lengthy conversation. I poured myself a cup of coffee and shoveled some breakfast onto a paper plate. Not in the mood to do dishes.

I was nearly done eating and on my second cup of coffee when she hung up. “Sounded serious,” I offered.

“Maybe. Probably. That was Tiffany, the girl who brought me. Big blow up at her house. She might be leaving early, like, before dinner, maybe before lunch.”

“Ahhh, the joys of family,” I said, pushing my plate away.

Kayla realized what I’d said and slapped me. “I didn’t hear any complaints last night.” She filled her plate and sat opposite me. “She’s going to figure out what’s going on and call me in an hour or so. I hope she doesn’t leave early. I have a pie in the oven.”

“What’s that got to ... oh. Right. She’s your ride back to Asheville.” I thought about the ramifications of that little tidbit. I did have a spare bedroom that Tiffany could use. Tiffany and Kayla. Obviously, if Tiffany spent the night, we couldn’t exactly leave things as they were. Not good. I could drive Kayla back. It wasn’t really that far, four hours each way. I could do that on Sunday afternoon if I wanted to.

“So, what’s going on in her family that would have her leaving early,” I asked.

She took a bite of eggs and washed it down with coffee. “Her family is so messed up it’s unbelievable. Their family photo is in the dictionary under dysfunctional.”

“I thought ours was a mess.”

“We’re not even in the same universe. Her dad is either in prison or an asylum or maybe it’s a prison asylum. She hasn’t seen him in years. Her mom, Joanne, is borderline alcoholic. Probably on the wrong side of the border. Her older brother escaped the madness by joining the Navy and she hasn’t seen him in three years. She’s at her aunt’s house now. Her cousin got arrested last night for either public drunkenness or shooting a gun inside city limits or both. Her uncle or cousin went to bail him out but it’s Thanksgiving so things are slow.”

“That does sound a wee bit messy.”

“She tried to talk to her mom but she wasn’t very helpful. She might not have even understood. Too much Southern Comfort will cloud the mind, I understand.”

“What about Tiffany? Is she somewhat normal?”

“Oh yeah. She’s athletic scholarship material for sure and I ride horses with her sometimes. She’s trying to graduate in three so she can leave.”

I thought about it for a couple of minutes while we ate. “I know it isn’t what you have in mind, but why don’t you invite her here for dinner? It sounds like she could use a break from the insanity.”

“I thought about that. We will definitely have enough food. If she spends the night or even two, but if she does, playtime is over,” she said with a sad look.

“Not until she gets here, though,” I answered and started eating faster. She smiled and did the same.

An hour later we had finished round two and were snuggled together when Kayla’s phone chirped.

“That’s Tiff. How long does it take to get her from faulty beach?”

“Folly Beach. Probably 40 minutes.”

She answered and I got up to use the restroom. When I returned, Kayla was off the phone and gathering her stuff.

“I invited her for dinner and to spend the night. She snapped at the opportunity.”

“Good. It sounds like she needs it.”

“Definitely. I’ll move my stuff into the guest bedroom and clean up. I’ll use some of that citrus air freshener. I don’t think air freshener can overpower your stinky sex smell.”

“My stinky smell? That’s all you sweetheart. I just smell manly.”

“Well, I smell womanly, ergo, sex smell. Anyway, I’ll get my stuff moved over and make it look slept in.”

“Need help with anything?” I grabbed her travel bag and looked around for any spare items. “Might want to run a load of wash. There might be some extra womanly smell going on there.” I smiled as I held a pair of odiferous panties to my nose.

“You can start a load for me. I’ve got dinner covered. It’s not hard. They didn’t have any defrosted turkeys and ham is easier anyway. I’m making a green bean casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy and a layered salad. When Tiffany gets here, she can help. I think she needs to do normal stuff.”

“Sounds good, both the plan and dinner. I’ve got the wash and I’ll look around for any stray clothing. The coconut sheets are already in the wash and I’ll move them along.” It only took ten minutes to take care of everything.

I told Kayla that I’d go for a long run and give her some time alone with Tiffany and she agreed that it would be a good idea. I laced up my shoes and checked my watch, figuring I had another fifteen minutes before Tiffany arrived.

“Danny, before you go for a run would you show me something?”

“Sure. What do you need,” I asked, figuring she meant something in the kitchen.

She pulled out my laptop and turned it on.

“I want to see Lisa Matthews and the other one. The other one you remember so well.”

“They shouldn’t be hard to find. Why?”

“I don’t really know. Curiosity, I guess. I want to know what an ideal woman looked like when you were my age.”

It took a minute to find Lauren Michelle Hill in all her glory.

“She’s tiny. She’s beautiful, but she’s really small. Really tiny. You like that?”

“I liked her. She just happened to be tiny. Part of the allure, I guess.”

“Hmm. Okay, let’s see the other one.”

I found her just as easily and pulled up a couple of her on-the-beach pictures.

“She’s amazing. Wow. I can definitely see the attraction there. She’s a goddess.”

“I thought so. It’s this picture, with her hands behind her on the beach chair, looking out at the ocean, long blonde hair blown back behind her. That’s the picture. That was my idea of a dream girl.”

She studied the picture for a while and then said, “I think my boobs are almost the same size. Almost. She was 5’9” and 120. I’m a little taller but weigh the same. 37-24-36, that’s like perfect, isn’t it? I don’t know what I am.”

It was interesting watching her assess her own beauty. I pulled a tape measure out of a cabinet behind me and held onto it as she scrolled through an article about her.

She came to the end and I asked, “Would you like to find out?” I held up the tape.

“I think so but I’m kind of afraid to,” she said standing.

“Why? I think you are absolutely beautiful. Flawless. Besides, look how different the two women you just looked at are. There’s no standard. I’ll be more than happy to measure, if you like. If you don’t it’s no big deal.”

She checked her watch to make sure we had time. “Why not,” she asked, stripping down.

I wasn’t sure if she was supposed to inhale, stand natural or what but I did my best.

“If I did this right, your measurements are 35-23-34. I think that’s just about perfect.”

“Mom is probably like 37-26-38 or something. She’s got bigger boobs for sure.”

I took the laptop from her and googled her measurements and playmate and got a return for Barbara Edwards. I popped open her photo. She was gorgeous. I turned the laptop to Kayla. “She has your measurements.

“Really? She’s stunning.”

“Like you.” She smiled without looking away. “Her measurements are the same but there’s a lot of difference.”

“Of course, there is. Look at her face. She’s beautiful.”

“Look at her stomach and legs. You have muscle tone. Flex your calves. See,” I pointed. “Most women wear heels so their calves look good. You don’t have to. She,” I pointed to the computer, “almost looks flabby compared to you. She’s sexy. You’re sexy. And you aren’t even trying to be. You’re just trying to be in good shape.”

“I work at it. It’s important. Guys don’t even know how big a deal it is.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, you can ease up a bit. You know what else?” I was on a roll. “Some things you can work on and some things you can’t. You’re born with it or you’re not. You have the most amazing nipples in the world. Some women have pretty flat nipples or they look soft. Yours are wonderful. They have great, no, amazing color, they get ridiculously hard and they are surrounded by those wonderful little Montgomery glands. You’re off the charts beautiful, and that’s the truth.”

She smiled but seemed unconvinced. “I wonder where they took these photos. California, right?”

“Probably. Why?”

“Do you think she’s happy she did this?”

“That’s something I can’t even begin to answer. It made her a lot of money, that’s for sure. I’m not sure being famous for your nude photos is something most women want.”

“But she has a record of how she looked when she was young and perfect.”

“I suppose that’s true. But then, the entire world does too. I’m not quite sure how she feels thinking about how many men whacked off looking at her picture. Would she think that’s a good thing or not?”

“Ew. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want strangers doing that.” She looked over her shoulder at me. “It would be kind of nice to think you were imagining me when you did.” I smiled back at her. Her mind was going someplace different than I could imagine.

She stood and turned to give me her profile, then grabbed the chair behind her, imitating the beach pose.

“Would you like to take my picture,” she asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it before. Would you like that?” She nodded slowly. “I have a nice camera but we don’t have a lot of time to set up a shot.”

“No. Not now. Maybe really early. At the beach.”

“You want to recreate that shot at the beach?”

“I kind of like the idea. There was no one at the beach yesterday, or the day before. It wouldn’t take long.”

“Okay, that’s the kind of idea that could get me thrown in jail.” She started dressing and I was completely taken off guard by the thought.

“I bet you know of a beach that’s really deserted, especially early in the morning. It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s just a thought.”

My mind alternated between different beach possibilities and jail time. She did look mighty fine and the pose was pretty amazing. The idea was crazy. And there I was, getting ready to run with a semi stiff dick telling me not to. I checked my watch. That’s all I needed, for Tiffany to show up and for me to answer the door with a woody.

I checked my watch again and calculated that if Tiffany had left when they got off the phone she’d arrive at any minute. I checked the temperature on my phone. Cool enough for a sweatshirt. I grabbed one out of the front closet and set my phone on the entry way stand.

Before Tiffany arrived or I began my run, I took Kayla in my arms and held her tight.

“You were absolutely amazing last night. No one has made love to me like that before. Very special for me.” She squeezed me back.

“If you want to be gone when she gets here, you better scoot,” she said.

As I opened the door, I looked back over my shoulder and said, “I know a beach.”

I set out for the connector, running at an easy seven-minute mile pace. I felt pretty good on the road and wasn’t sure if I should give credit to the massage the night before or if I should give credit to morning sex. I liked both. I decided on a longer rather than faster run and decided to make it a fifteen-mile round trip over to Boone Hall and back. A little traffic on Highway 17 but I wouldn’t be on it for long. Scenic.

My mind worked over the issues of the day. Number one issue was teen angst. Kayla had everything going for her and still needed encouragement and affirmation. I could do that easily enough. With some kids it’s hard to find the good. At least not in the quantity Kayla had. Her mom had raised a rock star. I wondered what her dad was like. I’d met him ten years ago but didn’t know him. She obviously got some good athletic genes from him. I decided to call Amanda when I got back and let her know about Tiffany and her need. I was sure she was providing plenty of encouragement, especially if they talked all the time.

Passing over the Intercoastal Waterway I looked out at light boat traffic. The tide was coming in, covering the pluff mud and sending the crabs up the beach. A couple of American flags were pretty stiff in the offshore breeze which would be nice for my return trip run. What about our houseguest? I had no idea besides what Kayla had relayed. I didn’t even know how they knew each other although I figured school for a safe bet, and then figured they were probably on the same team. It sounded to me like a couple of days with unjudging friends, away from the family chaos would be a good start. The guest bedroom had a queen bed and she had already planned to be gone for the long weekend. The only thing that really concerned me was how comfortable Kayla and I were around each other. Guard up, I thought.

The dreaded Rifle Range Road intersection was deserted. Target was closed and probably everything else. I picked up the pace a little. I made it to the Boone Hall entrance in just under forty-five minutes. My math wasn’t great but I had time to work on it. After fiddling around with the math for half the way back I concluded I had managed a 6:30 pace into a slight headwind. Not my best but not bad either, especially not on a fifteen-mile run.

By the time I made it back to the Intercoastal Waterway, I was ready to lose the sweatshirt. The tide was still rising and there were two boats out. The flags were still solidly offshore so I lengthened my stride to make the most of it. I was practically sprinting when I saw the blue Honda by my house and remembered why I had gone for a run in the first place. I stopped my watch and kept walking toward the beach.

Marco has an outdoor shower and a drinking fountain next to his steps and I took a long break to get some water back into me. Stepping back out to the street, I debated on which way to go when he stuck his head out the back door.

“I thought that was you. Too cold to paddle?”

“I did that yesterday and practically froze my nanas off.”

His deep voice boomed, “You don’t want to freeze your nanas off. That’s a disqualifier for some races,” he said, laughing. “You’re made of sterner stuff than me. I haven’t been out in a month, but you won’t see me running, either. How far?”

“Boone Hall and back.”

“That’s a good bit, what, maybe twelve miles roundtrip?”

“Close. Fifteen. I’m entertaining guests and wanted to give them some time.”

“Ah. Was fifteen enough?” I nodded. “We have more than enough food if you don’t have plans.”

“My cousin and her friend are here. She’s cooking, but thanks for the offer.”

“That’s a nice arrangement, invite guests and have them cook.” I smiled broadly. “Tourists are gone and the fishing is good. We haven’t been out in a while. Let me know.”

“Probably not this weekend, or next either, now that I think of it. Soon, though. Give my best to all,” I said and turned back for the house. He waved and stepped back inside.

Now to see what would unwind with Kayla’s friend. I took a deep breath and stepped inside to the sound of rapid-fire talk coming from the kitchen. Back and forth so quickly, I was tempted to step back outside. What had I gotten myself into? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I thought and stepped to the kitchen door.

“Hi ladies.” Talk stopped. Vegetable chopping stopped. Pot stirring stopped. I waited.

“Tiff, this is my cousin, Danny,” Kayla offered, slowly starting to stir again.

“Hi.” Tiffany was easily 6’3” tall and she was thin. That answered the question of how they knew each other. Volleyball. If you’re tall, use it.

“Kayla told me a little about what’s happening but not a lot. You’re welcome here. Today, tonight, the weekend. Whatever you like. Kayla was doing a lot of cooking for just the two of us so now she has help cooking and I have help eating so it’s a good thing.”

Her shoulders relaxed with relief and she smiled a little. “Thank you. This is so embarrassing and I didn’t know what to do really, so...” she trailed off.

“I understand that. So, this gives you some time to think about it. I’m all sweaty so I’m going to take a shower and let you ladies continue your conversation.”

They turned to each other and both started laughing. Kayla shooed me with the back of her hand and I left. Apparently, the word “conversation” didn’t adequately describe what had been going on. Who knows how the feminine mind works? I, for one, claim no such special knowledge.

I took my time, shaving close, and dressing nicely, a rare weekend effort. If Kayla and Tiffany could do the work, I could dress the part. It was much quieter when I entered the kitchen a second time.

“Anything I can do?”

Kayla looked up from an open oven. “Can you go get some ice cream? It would be nice to have that with dessert.”

“Not much open today but I don’t mind trying,” I offered.

“Great. Why don’t you take Tiff with you,” she said and when Tiffany looked away from Kayla and toward me, I saw Kayla frantically gesturing for me to take her.

Who was I to argue? “Sure, come on Tiffany. You can help me watch for ‘open’ signs. They’re hard to spot in this town. Some city ordinance keeps signs low and almost invisible.”

She looked at Kayla who shooed her my way, then smiled and took off her apron. She had parked on the grass leaving my car free. Tiffany got a good look at a car that sort of demands that look. I drive the same Ferrari 308GT that Tom Selleck drove on the last season of Magnum PI. The car wasn’t built for tall people and Tiffany was tall. Selleck is 6’4” and while I’m not that tall, the car is a little cramped for me with the top on.