Chapter 12: Lessons

After Penny had died none of us wanted to sort through Penny’s effects and give away her things. I’d carefully preserved her expensive jewelry in a safe deposit box, and packed up her costume jewelry along with all her clothes when we moved out of the condo and then into the new house. There were five tightly packed wardrobe cases that the movers had used just for her things. I opened each of the wardrobe cases one Saturday and scanned the clothing hanging on the racks. It was definitely high end, and some of it was beautiful. Of course, given her career in real estate, it emphasized business and professional clothes. Some pieces still had the store tags on them.

I called Wendy and Tracy into the room where the large boxes were and asked, “Do you have a problem wearing Penny’s clothes?” I pointed to the cases.

They both said they didn’t, especially after I suggested that it would help us all preserve her memory. “There’s no stigma attached to any of these dresses. Since you were all about the same size, I’m sure that some of these will fit you without any tailoring. We can see about getting the others tailored if you like them.”

I sweetened the deal. “Just to motivate you a little, I would like to take the two of you dancing at the Starlite Lounge tonight, on the condition that you wear one of her sexier ‘social’ dresses. There are dozens of shoes in the bottom of the cases, too.”

Tracy allowed, “I could always wear Mom’s shoes the last two years.”

After I’d made the invitation, I had to sneak away and call the Lounge and be sure I could bring two sixteen-year-olds into the place, with the promise that they wouldn’t even get a sniff of alcohol. They said that since they were with their parent/guardian, that was all right. I reserved a table for eight-thirty.

The teens spent all afternoon hanging up Penny’s clothes in their closets and getting ready to go out to dinner and then dancing. They emptied about half the wardrobe boxes in our bedroom. They both picked outfits to wear, and then tried on several dozen pairs of shoes to go with their dresses.

The two girls looked spectacular when the time came to leave. Wendy had a tight blue sequined dress with a slit up the side to near her pussy. Of course, her long tan and shapely legs showed through the slit and drew attention of every male in the place. The dress hugged her beautiful butt, and was basically backless, proving that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The front barely contained her nice breasts that rated the alert and perky moniker. A strap went around her neck, but lots of tanned acreage on her chest showed in the front dip of the dress. She had an elaborate ‘diamond’ necklace on, too. Her makeup was meticulous and stunning.

Tracy had a muted maroon dress, also backless and braless, that really highlighted her blonde hair. She done wonders to her eyes with her makeup, too; giving her a sexy and mysterious flavor. The dress was short – mid-thigh or even higher, so lots of her tanned legs showed right down to her four-inch spike heels that had reshaped her legs. Those shoes would scream CFM or Come Fuck Me to every man in the place. Up top, she also had a simple strand of pearls around her neck and matching earrings.

I took the two of them to the rooftop on the Westin Hotel, eighteen stories over the marina, for ‘cocktails’. They had some mocktails – non-alcoholic drinks made with pineapple and lemonade soda. The drinks looked real, and we got some looks from some of the others on the high-altitude terrace wondering about their ages – or possibly me being a pervert. The way they were dressed, at least they looked older – even in their early twenties.

I had a special song played by the jazz quartet for each of the teens. If we hadn’t been behaving ourselves and limiting our PDAs, I might have gotten in some lovemaking right there on the terrace.

We had dinner in the posh dining room of the hotel. The place was busy, yet the two girls were the highlight of the entire large restaurant. Each girl had their own waiter hovering over them just to be near their beauty, and perhaps trying to sneak a peek down their teenage cleavage. I got whatever attention I needed, but only after I waved at one of the staff.

I kept telling the girls how beautiful they were and pointing out how almost every person where we went stared at them because they were so beautiful. That wasn’t hyperbole either.

Wendy said, “Does this mean we’re not beautiful in our school clothes?”

I chuckled. “There’s an expression, ‘Clothes make the man’. The expression goes back hundreds of years. There are several meanings: for one, dressing well is a sign of your inner being, your personality, your intelligence, and your social and relationship status. People judge you based on your appearance, and they assign you roles and responsibilities based on what they perceive.

“In the other direction, dressing a certain manner or style can shape your personality, your outlook on life and on the people around you, and affect the way you perform. Why do you think many doctors and nurses wear a standard uniform? In some ways, it reminds them of why they’re doing what they do and urges them to do it well. Dressing for your role in work or play can boost your confidence. You can be seen as more of a leader or high performer, too.”

Tracy said, “And, we dressed kind of sexy tonight.”

“How’s that make you feel?” I asked.

“Errr, sexy and loved by you ... and also very chic. We dressed up and you’ve taken us to a great restaurant, a place for cocktails, and we’ll be dancing later.”

“Would I have done that in your school togs?”

Both girls shook their heads. Wendy said, “We’d look very laid back and super casual – sloppy even, and not in keeping with the style of the terrace upstairs or certainly this restaurant. We’d be seen as an eyesore. If we went to our sports bar where we often go for dinner a lot, we’d be dressed like everybody else and not stand out, but we’d also feel casual and not too special. We’d stand out there wearing these dresses.”

“Ah, so I think you learned something. How do you want to be perceived? Don’t answer that question, but make your clothing decisions based on what you want the answer to be and based on where you’re going.”

Both girls were silent for a few moments as we ate, and they reflected on those points. I wished that Alice had joined us, but she wanted to tend some personal things at her apartment.

The girls were also secretively looking around the restaurant to verify what I’d said about them being the center of attention. I didn’t need to look; I knew that I was right.

Dancing at the Starlight Lounge was a huge hit with Wendy and Tracy. I took turns dancing with each of them. After the first two dances, other men in the place started to come to our table and ask one of them to dance.

I coached the one I was dancing with about pick-up lines as we watched the other teen dance with an older guy trying to put the make on her, just like the guys at the beach had tried on the girls. This was a different setting, and the men were a little older, so I guessed that the words the men would use to try to cut each girl away from our pack had to be different. Wendy and Tracy would share with the rest of us what they’d been asked when we were all at the table together.

The girls teased me, talking about accepting one or two of the invitations to do something more with the men. Tracy suggested that maybe we pick one and have a foursome, the man getting to fuck both of the women. They knew how to yank my chain.

All that was great fun, until a pretty woman about my age came by our table and asked if I wanted some variety and a dance with an ‘older’ woman. She was pretty and asked in a humorous and fun manner. The girls were bemused, but probably not as much as I was. I accepted with a gracious smile and excused myself.

As we threated our way between tables to the dance floor, I said, “I’m Matt.”

The woman turned, gave me a brilliant smile, and said, “Misty. I’m curious, who’re the kids with you? I’ve been coming here occasionally for over a year, and you’re the first eligible guy to show, but with teenagers – at least, I think they’re teens. They’re dressed ... like very chic. I’m impressed by them, and by you, but what are they? Girlfriends? Children – like you started having kids really young?”

I guess we’d tweaked someone’s curiosity more than just a little. I chuckled and explained as we started to dance, “Through a series of unfortunate events I have become, at my tender age, their guardian. They live with me.”

“How old are they?”

“Sixteen, but they’re both brilliant and about halfway through college. This is the first time I’ve taken them out like this. I was always kind of nerd, so I didn’t exactly favor places like this in my past. I didn’t have the self-confidence. Today, they seem to be enjoying dancing and having the attention of some of the men.”

Misty laughed derisively, “So, you brought them to this meat locker? You’d better keep an eye on them. The males in this place are like a hungry pack of wolves looking for young pussy and you just provided some fresh meat.” She was laughing but serious.

I laughed, “That’s the discussion we’ve been having on and off since we arrived here. I’ve been trying to teach them about pick-up lines. Just remember that they’re way ahead of a normal sixteen-year-old developmentally. I think they each have an eidetic memory, too. They read or hear something and remember every detail.”

Our dancing segued into some fast music and we weren’t able to talk throughout the long and loud songs. At the end, a slow number started and we just flowed into dancing together. I was polite and didn’t get all grabby about Misty’s body. I noted that each of teens was dancing with a handsome guy probably in his early- or mid-twenties. I could even spot some hands wandering near some asses.

Misty wanted more details as she also watched them. “You said they live with you, but what happened to create this unique situation?”

“The pretty blonde in the blue dress was beat up multiple times by her mother’s boyfriend and then there were incidents of attempted rape. Her name is Wendy. Mom didn’t seem to be able to prevent it. She ran away from home and we subsequently met. The other girl, Tracy, is her BFF. Her mother got involved with Wendy’s situation and subsequently became her guardian after we did an intervention with Wendy’s mother. That woman and I fell in love, and of course, I liked the girls. Her name was Penny. Only a few months later she contracted some crazy autoimmune disease and died in less than a month. I legally took over as guardian to both girls. I’ve also been the executor of Penny’s estate. Additionally, we just all moved into a large home on Palm Key after combining some assets.”

“Wow, what a story ... and Palm Key is not the poor house, either.”

“This house is a fixer upper. I don’t think anything had been done to the house since it was built in the early ‘70s, but we liked the layout and pool. We changed out the original appliances and redid the kitchen and a bath, but have many other renovations and decorating to do. We did do a massive paint job on the interior just to clean and liven up the place before we moved in.”

I turned the tables on Misty, “What do you do? Are you originally from Sarasota or Venice?”

She grinned, “I’m the principal and also teach social studies at Gulfview Middle School. I’m an import from Ohio State. I like warm weather and no snow, so here I am.”

“How many kids in your school?”

“About two thousand, so we have our hands full. No money, short staff, increasing instructions from the state about what to teach and not teach, how to teach, various books are being banned, and overall, it’s not a healthy environment for education in this state. The people making those decisions do not have any idea about the needs of the children from an education point of view. They, on the other hand, have a political agenda and the kids and teachers are caught in the middle. I had to pull some Dr. Seuss books – books that kids for over fifty years have been using to hone their reading skills. It should be illegal.”

I laughed, “You’re preaching to choir, probably. Do you have gifted students?”

Misty rolled her eyes, “Four of them, but we haven’t had the resources to do much with them. We have to treat them like everybody else – something about the lowest common denominator setting the standard.” She rolled her eyes.

“If Wendy and Tracy could help, maybe just by talking with them about what they did to get to where they are now, I’m sure they’d help out. Some sixteen-year-olds who are about to be juniors in college might be good role models. By the way, when they’re not in school, one works for Retail Solutions, where I also work, and the other is analyzing red tide samples at the marine research lab out on City Island – both as interns.”

Misty shook her head, “I picked the right guy to be curious about. Could I meet the girls?”

“Sure. If you’re willing, I’ll introduce you after this dance, assuming they don’t succumb to some smooth line from their dance partners and disappear into the night.” We both laughed.

A few minutes later I led Misty to our table. Wendy and Tracy appeared almost immediately with their dance partners, who fled at the prospect of interacting with two older people – Misty and me.

I introduced the girls and gave the bridge line regarding Misty having some gifted students that might like to interact with the two girls who had gone through the gifted program. I also thought that the girls might give Misty some ideas about how to work the state education system so she could push her four gifted students ahead much faster than she seemed to think that she was allowed.

After some talk in the noisy club, I suggested that Misty come by the house the next day to talk to the girls. They agreed that late in the next afternoon would be good; four p.m. was the ideal time. I made sure Misty had my contact information and address.

Misty asked me to dance again since a slow number was just starting. I had told her that I thought I looked foolish gyrating all over the place to the fast rock numbers. I told her that she looked suave and hip and part of the in-crowd when she danced. She got a laugh and I got a sincere hug and kiss on the cheek, with a promise to see me soon.

I danced with each of the girls again, even doing a fast number with each, which they liked, and then we left the Starlite Lounge. Misty had hung around, but there wasn’t much of a chance to talk further what with the noise level of the place.

I escorted home the two well-dressed women that I’d arrived with. I romanced them both in the media room in the house, since there was more privacy there. They got charged up as I carefully removed each piece of clothing that they’d worn, leaving them in only their CFM heels before I had them sit and started to alternately eat one and then the other of them as they kissed and made out.

The three of us made love and teased each other about the teens being with various young men who’d asked them to dance. I knew that none of them had impressed the girls other than with their lavish compliments as they tried to score. They did get the flavor of a ‘meat locker’ and we played some short fantasies about the club during our sex. Two of their favorites were being taken in a restroom stall or out the back door of the club in the alley.

After our fun time with sex and sexy stories, we went up to bed.

Sunday, we did projects and prepared for the coming week the way most people do: errands, laundry, house cleaning, and preparing some advance meals that could just be warmed up rather than cooked from scratch. The girls did homework, too.

Alice arrived just before lunch and quickly integrated into what was going on around the house. We welcomed her with kisses and hugs. She had some computer work to do, so set up on the patio at one of the tables.

The girls went outside to study on the patio about two p.m. They were topless and, as usual, staked out one of the tables so they could study, use their laptops, and talk at the same time. Each of them had their computers open, and often in use. I noticed that Alice had gone ‘monokini’, too. Things were so normal that I didn’t pay much attention after that. I was still laying out projects in the house and doing cost estimates room-by-room. I had great plans for a laundry room that I wanted to measure out in its future space.

The doorbell range right at four p.m. I answered it and met Misty in the daytime. She was casually but neatly dressed in Bermuda shorts and a colorful and jazzy top that proclaimed ‘Love’ in large letters across her chest. I didn’t ask whether it was the noun or verb, but had a silent joke with myself about her potential responses.

Misty was a highly attractive and relatively tall brunette, and she oozed competence. I hadn’t taken in much about her physical appearance the night before in the club lighting other than that she was ‘hot’ and pleasant looking; perhaps it was the way she dressed to discourage ogling in her direction. I suspected that school principals needed to be exceptionally discreet in public. She had long legs, and wore some tennis sneakers. Her waist seemed exceptionally narrow, and that gave her a very curvy appearance. The pullover top hugged her body enough to signal that she had a generous rack.