“Earl. Good. You’re still working on our taxes.”

“I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I’ve got some more receipts.”

“What’re these?”

“Receipts for some donations we can take off our taxes.”

“Things you left at the Goodwill?”

“Just some donations. I’ll leave you to it.”

“You wait right there, Sybil.”

“What’s it now, Earl?”

“It says ‘fellatio’ here.”

“That’s a technical name for it.”

“I know what it means. Why’s Dessie Kroger’s name here on the receipt. He pay you for a blow job?”

“No, he did not pay me. If he paid me, it can’t be a donation, now can it. Use your head, Earl.”

“So it was you paying for his blow job?”

“No! You have any idea how much those cost?”

“Then who’s it giving Dessie Kroger blow jobs?”

“Me.”

“When?”

“Last year. That’s why we’re taking it off now.”

“When last year?”

“I don’t know off the top of my head. There’s dates on the receipts. You can look for yourself.”

“You were blowing Dessie Kroger?”

“Don’t get all worked up, Earl. I was only trying to be a good neighbor. You know how he’s been since Bittsie left him.”

“You could’ve sent over some fudge or cookies or baked him a ham. If he needs a blow job so bad he can go out and get it for himself. You don’t need to be making house calls.”

“The first time I went over I did exactly that. Just dropping by. Seeing how he was doing. After his accident.”

“The accident where his wife Bittsie bashed him with a pipe wrench, knocking him off his motorcycle, and then left him? That accident?”

“It must’ve damned near broke his heart.”

“He had it coming from what I hear.”

“Be that as it may, I thought I’d go over and see how he was getting on. Just a friendly visit. I heard how it stove him up. How he’s been stuck in that trailer, wearing a knee brace that’s got him walking around like Frankenstein, nothing to do but surf the internet. Just wasting away. You have to admit it’s got him wasting away.”

“Because Bittsie wouldn’t put up with his wandering dick, him thinking he’s nature’s gift to women.”

“He can’t help how he looks or how the girls naturally gravitate to him. I certainly don’t. But I did fix him up a big plate of cookies. Being neighborly. I made us some tea so he didn’t have to hop around waiting on me. You’ve seen that contraption he’s got to wear on his knee? Anyway. We’re munching along, sipping tea, talking about this and that, the weather and sports and what all. The whole time we’re chatting? He’s tipping Crown Royal into his tea. He didn’t think I saw, but I did. Which is kind of sad, don’t you think? Made me feel sorry for the guy. Anyway, after a bit I was about to make my goodbyes, when it just kind of slipped out.”

“What did?”

“How he couldn’t feel anything. Down there. Since the accident.”

“He just up and told you he couldn’t feel his dick.”

“Don’t be gross. He didn’t just up and tell me. We’d been talking about how his knee was coming along, and he said it was fine, and I said that was good to hear, and he said he’d be up and around in no time. Then he said, but what’s the use? Before I could say anything, he started in on how much he missed Bittsie—her laughing at his jokes, her cooking up sausage for him, her wandering around naked after a shower, making the place smell like her. Going on like one of those guys in a romance novel. You know how I eat those up.”

“I keep knocking into them stacked up by the bed.”

“Then he stopped talking and I took that as my cue to leave, and I’m almost to the door, when he says he probably shouldn’t be saying anything, me being married and all, but since the accident, he hasn’t had any feeling in his member. Well, when he said that, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Good looking kid like that? Can’t feel anything? That’d be a crying shame. You have to admit that would be a crying shame.”

“Dessie always manages to find a reason to talk about his dick. At least I don’t have to work with the guy.”

“He was being polite, calling it his member.”

“A guy half your age shouldn’t be telling you about how his member feels.”

“It was the Crown Royal talking. He gave out with a big old sigh and I said, ‘really?’ so he’d know it was okay to talk about. I mean, it takes a lot to make me blush, and I wanted him to know it was okay. He gave me a little look, and then took another sip of his tea. He could still get a hard-on, he said, like before. He could even get off like before. But the thing of it was, he said, he couldn’t feel anything. Like before. Said it was like carrying around someone else’s dick. He did slip that once and said dick.”

“Poor thing.”

“It’s serious, Earl.”

“He sweet-talked you into waking up Sleeping Beauty for him, didn’t he.”

“No, he most certainly did not. I offered to take a look at it. That’s all. Just a look.”

“You are not a doctor.”

“To give him a different perspective is all. You can’t see everything down there with your eyes way up there. Don’t you think, maybe, I’d see something he’s not seeing? Then he could explain it to the doctor. Come on, Earl. Anyway, I pulled my chair over so I could see better. He opened up his robe—you know he’s bronzed all the way down? No tan lines, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Well, I am. Where’s a fella go to get an all-over tan like that? He’s certainly not getting it out by the pool they got here. I’d’ve noticed something like that.”

“I’ll bet he loved showing off his member.”

“That’s how little you know. What fella wants to show a naked woman his squishy old balloon that might have something wrong with it?”

“Wait—who’s the naked woman?”

“Me. Not right then. Would you stop interrupting. I’m getting there.”

“Okay. Oooo-kay. What was wrong with it?”

“Nothing I could see. Then he asked if I’d take hold of it, see if it felt funny.”

“Naturally.”

“Of course he asked me. I didn’t offer. I don’t go around inviting myself into some stranger’s britches. There’s a few I could name down at the Horseman wouldn’t wait to be asked. For something that size? They’d be at him in a heartbeat.”

“But not you.”

“Of course not. He asked. So I said I could do that little thing for him. I took hold of him—closing my eyes so I didn’t embarrass him by staring at it.”

“And did it?”

“Did what?”

“Feel funny.”

“No, it didn’t. Felt the same as yours. Thicker and longer, sure. Not even all the way filled out, but not so spongy either. So I told him it seemed fine from what I could feel. He kept poking at it with his finger, like he’s trying to wake a snake. A big, thick snake. Stretched out, sunning itself the way they do. If you can picture it.”

“I’d rather not. So. you told him there was nothing wrong with it and what did he say?”

“Said he’d have to take my word for it. He sure seemed disappointed. He said maybe it’s because I used my hand. He said his momma always used her lips, checking him for fever. I said my momma did the exact same thing! Especially when she thought I was faking a fever to skip school. That was her surefire way to catch me if I was lying.”

“Sybil—”

“Well, she did. So I leaned over, having to stretch across the arm of the recliner, lifted his pecker up where I could reach it, and put my mouth to it. Again, I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. I asked if he could feel it against my mouth. He squinted, really concentrating, and then shook his head. Nothing. Well, I was ready to send him to a doctor. But he said, maybe it’s because of me being fully dressed it made him feel like he was in the nurse’s office back at school when she’d check the boys for hernias. And I’m thinking, is he talking about old Mrs Oswald in that droopy white uniform of hers? You cut that out, Earl. Don’t you dare laugh. Me sitting there and he thinks it’s like being in Mrs Oswald’s office. She’s twice my age if she’s a day. That pissed me off, lumping me in with old Mrs Oswald. But I didn’t let him see. I just stood up, stripped down to my undies—which was the lavender g-string and matching brassiere you got me for our anniversary.”

“That’s the underwear you put on for delivering a plate of cookies?”

“It just happened to come up in the rotation. But I am glad I trimmed the hedge—if you know what I mean.”

“So he’s lying there, getting an eyeful of you in your g-string and a bra that doesn’t cover much of anything.”

“Oh no. He didn’t see anything. Nothing for more than a few seconds. He slapped his hands over his eyes and flopped back on the recliner, saying Bittsie had a set just like it. So, what could I do? I took them off, too.”

“I’m sure he appreciated your sensitivity.”

“I asked him if that helped. He said it seemed to, so he took his hands down. Stretching over the arm of that recliner was giving me a crick in my neck, so I came around, kneeled down, planting myself between his legs, pushing his knees apart. It was a little tight because I’m not as slim as I used to be, sorry to say.”

“If a healthy young guy like Dessie can’t feel his dick in your hand, he needs to see a doctor.”

“That’s what we were trying to find out, Earl. I threw his robe all the way open to give myself some room to work, took hold of his pecker, and this time I put my mouth full on against the tip, then went to rubbing it against my mouth, and across my teeth, giving it little nips. It starts filling out and I’m telling you—it was just like a snake coming awake, rising up, looking around for breakfast. I had one eye on that snake of his, and one eye watching to see if he could feel any of it.”