Chapter 14

Once again Mrs. Parsons was in a good mood when she came down for breakfast. She had me call over to Brenda's house to ask them if we could come by to pick them up on our way out to the country club. She told me to tell Mrs. Connor that they would be leaving after lunch and that Hans would return to pick Brenda and me up after we were done with our tennis practice. I called them, and spoke with Brenda for about half an hour. We didn't talk about kitty's, but there was an undercurrent to our conversation, caused mostly on my end. I know I pushed it a little, but that was caused by the fact that Brenda had told me that she liked me. We stopped outside Brenda's house at ten fifteen, and when Mrs. Connor came out carrying a golf bag, Hans and I both raced out to her to offer to carry her bag to the limo. I won the race, and relieved her of the bag. Hans returned to the back of the limo and opened up the trunk. He and I smiled at each other as I put the bag away and he closed the trunk lid.

It was a perfect day for golf, no wind and clear skies. My lesson was only marred by the distraction of having Brenda there watching me. I wanted to do well, to impress her with my golfing skill. Perhaps I tried too hard, but, I just wasn't hitting the ball as well as I had been before. While I was taking my lesson, Mrs. Connor and Mrs. Parsons were off to the side, hitting balls, and talking to each other a lot. I watched them hitting for a short time, and I could see that Mrs. Connor didn't have nearly as good of a golf swing as Mrs. Parsons. Her set up was a lot different, and she had an abbreviated follow through which cost her distance, especially with her woods. For all of that, her ball flew straight, almost every time.

I was happy when Dave and I went over to the putting green. We reviewed my putting mechanics, and Dave had me try standing more over the ball. I liked the way this felt right from the beginning. The ball lined up easier for my eye, and I just felt more comfortable with sighting my putts this way. It took me a little time to adjust my distance control, but once I had it dialed in, I started making some smoother putts. I could see the way the ball rolled now, and that helped as well.

When we went in and got our carts, I showed Brenda how to drive hers. It only took about five minutes to teach her everything I'd been taught. On the first tee, all of us hit decent drives. Mrs. Parsons hit hers further than Mrs. Connor and I, but we were both less than fifteen yards behind her. I learned right away that Mrs. Connor was real good with her mid irons. Her second shot was with a five iron, and she hit it clean, and put it right in the middle of the green. My second shot I hit fat, and it came up forty yards short of the green. Mrs. Parsons hit a seven iron about eight or nine feet short of the flag. I made a bogey, and both of the ladies made pars. I didn't play badly, but after nine holes I was at forty seven, Mrs. Connor at forty three, and Mrs. Parsons had a one over thirty seven.

On the course, I had flirted with Brenda quite a bit. Flirting in our case meant mostly winking and smiling, except for one time, when I walked over to her cart and ran a finger across the line of her neck, from back to front. I'm not sure why I picked that to do, it was just something that I felt like doing. Mostly, I wanted to establish a physical connection with her. When I did that, she didn't try to pull away, and when I took my finger away, she looked up at me and smiled. A minute later, I hit my approach shot into the sand trap, and didn't even get mad.

I never heard so much talking on a golf course as those two women did. Talking, laughing, and praising each other's shots. Mrs. Parsons had always been pretty quiet when she and I played by ourselves. This was a new side of her that I was seeing, and I thought back to what Gerta had said about her being carefree. One thing was obvious, both of them were having a good time.

At the end of eighteen holes, Mrs. Parsons had the low round, an eighty. I really think she deliberately played poorly on the back nine. Mrs. Connor had an eighty six, and I had a ninety one. Mrs. Parsons didn't say that she had played poorly, instead, she congratulated both of us on playing so well. I could see that she was trying to encourage Mrs. Connor to keep playing with her. I found out at lunch that the difference between a full membership and the kind the Connor's had, was a thousand dollars a year. That seemed like a lot of money to me, but Mrs. Parsons started telling Mrs. Connor that it was a false economy not to pay the extra for the full membership. Mrs. Connor said she had really enjoyed playing on a well maintained golf course again, and promised to talk to Mr. Connor about reinstating their full membership soon. From the way she said it, she didn't sound confident of convincing him to do it.

When we ordered lunch, Mrs. Parsons ordered a drink, something called a Manhattan, and Mrs. Connor decided to join her by ordering a Vodka Gimlet. Brenda had a worried look on her face when her mom ordered that drink. Brenda and her mother both ordered the fried shrimp, Mrs. Parsons had a Cobb salad, and I had a steak sandwich again. After lunch, Mrs. Parsons and Mrs. Connor ordered one more drink, and we sat there listening to the two of them reminisce about people they knew from their childhood. We found out that Mrs. Connor and Mr. Chalmers had dated each other in high school. It was hard for me to picture the two of them together. Mrs. Parsons saw my puzzled look I guess.

"Kenny, Bunny was considered quite dashing in his youth. He was a much sought after escort." I remembered seeing a picture of Mr. Chalmers with his father and Mr. Parsons, when he was about twenty years old. Other than being a little thinner, and having a little more hair in the front of his head, he looked about the same as he now did. I smiled at her, and nodded as if I could believe what she had said.

"He was a very sweet boy, so considerate, too. Which is probably the reason he never married. He was so nice, no one felt like they were good enough for him. With me, I met Walt, and he was so different, so exciting. It was a scandal really, when I dropped Bunny and took up with Walt. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have turned out if I'd followed my mother's advice and never taken up with Walt." Mrs. Connor punctuated her final sentence by swallowing the last half of her drink. when she raised her hand, signaling for the waiter, Mrs. Parsons told her that she needed to get back to the house because she was expecting Thomas to call with their schedule for the weekend. She told Mrs. Connor that she was flying off to Chicago Sunday morning and had a lot to take care of before she left.

"Kenny, please take care of the check for us, and you make sure that you and Brenda don't overextend yourselves in this heat. Tennis is a lot more strenuous than golf. Goodbye dear, I'll see you at home later. Call Hans when you two are ready to leave. Are you ready, Georgia?" She had stood up and was gathering her things, so Mrs. Connor stood up as well. The waiter rushed over to her with the check, but she smiled at him and pointed her finger over at me. I had gotten up when the ladies did, but as soon as the started for the exit, I sat back down again.

"Would you like a dessert?"

"No, I'm full. Let's go practice. We have a lot to work on if we're going to be competitive on Sunday." I was a little disappointed, mostly because I was hoping that Brenda was going to let me reach under the table, and touch her pussy. She was sitting close in to the table, and was already dressed in a tennis skirt and tennis panties. They weren't like underwear though, and I already knew she had real panties under the tennis ones. I signed the check and went down to my locker to change into shorts and a different shirt and shoes. When I came out, I walked over to the tennis courts where Brenda was waiting for me. I expected to find her on one of the empty courts, but she was sitting in the bleachers instead. All of the courts were empty, so we were all alone.

"Are you ready?" I had my racquet bag open and was fishing out one of my racquets. She stayed where she was, with me standing ten feet away from her.

"No, we need to talk first. Come, sit over here." She patted a place beside her. She watched me as I climbed up the two steps and sat down next to her. I put my racquet bag down on the side away from us. "You may as well do it and get it over with, Kenny."

"Do what?"

"Touch me. That's what you wanted me to get dessert for, wasn't it? Well, go ahead. There's no one around now." I knew she wasn't joking, and I knew she wasn't that happy to be doing this. What I couldn't figure out is why she wanted me to do it, if she didn't feel like she'd enjoy being touched there by me. Something wasn't right.

"No, thank you though. I guess I can wait for that."

"I want you to do it and get it over with."

"I don't, especially if that's how you think. You touched me because you wanted to. It surprised me, but I wanted you to do it, so it was all right. It sounds like you think you have to do it, but you don't want to."

"You said you wanted to do that, so I'm saying you can." I could see she was getting herself upset. I think she had steeled herself to do it, and was now frustrated that my failing to cooperate with her was only prolonging something that she would just as soon have over.

"I don't want to do it now. I'll do it when you want me to, not before that."

"I want you to do it now. Do it!" I got up and walked out on the closest hard court. Brenda stayed sitting on the bleacher bench. I could see that she was just as stubborn as I was. "Kenny, you better come back here so we can get this taken care of."

"Brenda, I came here to practice tennis with you. If you have something else you wanted to do, you better just do it alone. Get out here and let's start hitting some balls."

"Not until you do it. You said that's what you expected for those free lunches, and that's what you're going to get." She sat there, and after a few more seconds, she opened her legs wide. I could see her white tennis panties clearly. I put my racquet down and walked back over to her. I climbed back up until I was standing right in front of her. I reached down and poked her panties, right in her crotch area, twice with two of my fingers. I didn't try to make it feel good for either one of us. After I had touched her, I turned around and went back to the tennis court. She sat there for another minute, glaring at me, but then she got up and came onto the court with me.

We practiced hard for two hours. She was brutal, running me all over the court, obviously trying to make me give up and quit. I refused to give up, even though I needed to stop for short rests, unable to get my burning lungs to take in enough new air. My legs hurt bad too, but I kept going. During the entire practice she never spoke a single sentence to me longer than four words, and every word was about tennis. I'm not sure why I finally decided to stop. I guess somewhere in the process, the pain I felt got to be stronger than the disappointment I knew I'd have when I finally quit. I sat down on the court and refused to get back up.

"That's it for today. I'm done."

"I still want to practice."

Practice by yourself then, I'm through for today."

"I'm not tired. You can play a little longer."

"Brenda, that's enough. If I get up again, it will only be to go over and call Hans. I'm not sure when I'll be able to do that. The only thing I learned today was that you can be mean when you're mad."

"You didn't have to treat me like you did either. You made me feel cheap. You're the one who keeps inviting me to eat with you. When I asked you if you expected anything in return, you should have told me either that you expected nothing, or else only the pleasure of my company."

"That's all I do expect. Why are you bringing that up?"

"Because you said you expected me to let you pet my kitty when I asked you that question last night."

"I also told you it was because you touched me. I didn't mean because of the lunches, I meant you touched me, so I should get to touch you too."

"It didn't sound like that. It sounded like you wanted me to pay for my lunches."

"Then I'm sorry, it wasn't how I meant it to sound. Another thing though, you have a mouth, you could have just said something so I could have explained what I meant."

"All right. I'm sorry too. You lasted longer than I thought you would. I'm tired now too, and sweaty and yucky. I wish I'd brought my bathing suit, we could go swimming."

"I'll let you borrow mine."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"Mine aren't big like Bea's are."

"The important thing is that they are yours. I don't want to look at hers anymore."

"But you do want to look at my little tiny ones?"

"They aren't tiny. They look just right for your body. If they were bigger, you'd be top heavy."

"I'm in the mood to let you touch them, and you can really pet my kitty if you want to."

"If you want me to, if it's for no other reason than you want me to touch you." Both of us were looking off in every direction, wanting to make sure we were really all alone out there. I didn't see anyone, and I stood back up so that I'd have a better line of sight. We were moving slowly towards each other. We met first with a kiss. Our first real kiss. Our sweat mingled, and there was a salty flavor to both our lips. We moved in a little closer, and I put my hand in between our bodies and touched her breast for the first time. It was small, but it was soft, except for her nipple. It felt good in my palm, and I moved my hand around like Bea had shown me. I moved my hand down her stomach until I felt the end of her skirt. I reached in and touched her panties again, and she helped by opening her legs to my hand. I touched her and rubbed her for about ten seconds. I didn't try to go under her panty leg, it was more of an introductory rub. I felt her own hand reach up and search out my dick. With all of my excitement, it wasn't too hard to find. When she dropped her hand, I dropped mine. The kiss and the touches lasted for less than a minute.

We stepped back and smiled at each other. I'm pretty sure that neither of us wanted to move past this point. It was perfect. I don't know what Brenda thought of it as, maybe first kiss or something like that, but, to me, it was the two of us deciding to trust each other. Not totally, but at least a little bit.

Bea had opened my eyes to what was possible, and had taught me how to search for pleasure for both partners. Brenda was opening my eyes to emotional responses, and the importance of being connected with both the emotional and the physical. I couldn't help thinking of Bea, and wondering if she had ever felt like I did about Brenda with anyone. She had never once mentioned having any love feelings with anyone. I was happy for her lessons, and wished I could tell her about the other part of it that I was discovering with Brenda. I didn't think she'd believe me anyway. At its best, sex was simply fun for her, a way for her to pay her ticket on the ride. We walked over to the clubhouse together, holding hands, and finding reasons to bump against each other, both of us appreciating whatever contact we could manage to get.

Brenda waited outside for me as I took a quick shower, and changed back into the pants and shirt I'd played golf in. I got a bag from the locker room attendant to put my tennis shorts, socks and shirt into. I gave him fifty cents as a tip. Mr. Chalmers had explained to me the way members were supposed to tip for those kinds of extra services. I hoped fifty cents was enough.

When I came outside, Brenda asked how long it was going to be before Hans came to get us. I told her he should be there in about ten minutes.

"Do you want to go see where Richard and Claudia got in trouble?" She smiled at me when she asked me. I did want to, but I didn't want to take a chance on making Hans have to wait.

"Let's walk out towards the entrance instead. We will meet Hans there and save him having to drive up to the clubhouse." I think Brenda was disappointed at my lack of adventure, at least until I grabbed her and ducked into the trees about halfway to the entrance to the club. We kissed for another minute, but just kissed. We ran back out to the road after and went out to the entrance to wait for Hans.

When we were settled in the back of the limo, I kissed Brenda again, but I think she was worried about Hans seeing us and saying something to someone. I wasn't worried. I didn't think Hans wanted to get me into any trouble. The ride to Brenda's house was too short. As soon as she hopped out of the limo, I felt a small sense of loss. Feeling even that slight sense of loss was very unusual for me. I remembered a feeling much like that when I said goodbye to Maria at the orphanage. It was similar, but not quite the same.

I think it was right then, as I watched her retreating figure, that I first began to realize that I was falling in love with Brenda. The realization scared me more than a little. Brenda and I were from two different worlds. We had very little in common when it came to our shared memories and our childhoods. I had escaped my childhood, at least for awhile, but I didn't have any idea of all of the thousands of reference points that Brenda had to fall back on from hers. What if I started to love her, and all she was able to do was like me? I knew that we'd have fights when we got together. She was feisty, competitive and combative. I was way out of my league with her, both from who I was, and from what I knew. She wanted a rich man, and I was the farthest thing from one. I knew I was reaching too far for my grasp. I had to pull back, protect myself from the pain that pursuing her would inevitably cause me.

When you've never had anything to treasure, not even a memory, it is impossible to realistically dream of happy endings. To believe in happy endings is even less possible. I rode home from Brenda's expecting that I'd ultimately fail with her. Not failing wasn't an option that I could believe in. Not believing you can succeed is the road to failure. I had spent a number of years walking down that road. People like me didn't love, didn't deserve to be loved. For me to even kiss Brenda was a form of stealing. By the time Hans pulled up into that circular driveway, I'd already convinced myself to give up this crazy pursuit I'd started. If Bea was too good for me, I was just fooling myself by even hoping for Brenda. I got out of the limo and walked into the house. When I saw Mr. Chalmers standing in the entranceway, I was very surprised. I turned around and saw his car out in the circle. We'd passed right by it, and I hadn't even noticed. I turned back, acknowledging his greeting.

"Hello, Kenny. I was just leaving, so I'm glad you got here before I left. Bertie is upstairs. She tells me that she had a marvelous time with you, Georgia and young Brenda today. She also claims you shot a ninety one from the ladies tees. I tip my hat to you. I doubt I've ever scored a ninety one, not for eighteen holes at least. Bertie also told me that you and Brenda are becoming something of an item over at the club."

"I know what you are going to say. Don't worry, I already know."

"Really? How wonderful it must be to be able to anticipate so well. Shall we go to Bolling or not?"

"To the orphanage again?"

"So I've been told. I have business there at the courthouse, and Bertie wondered if I could drop you off there tomorrow."

"Can I take some of my new things with me?"

"I thought you only wanted to spend an hour or two. Bertie didn't tell me you had requested a longer visit."

"Visit?"

"Didn't you ask Bertie this morning if you could go visit the orphanage for an hour or two? She asked me to drive you up when I go tomorrow, and then bring you back here. What did you think I meant?" I just looked at him, unable to speak because of how relieved I felt. "Kenny, tell me what you thought."

"That you decided to send me back." My voice was quiet, but I felt pressure in my ears as I spoke.

"Why would you ever think that? Bertie was positively glowing when she bragged about all your accomplishments. Why would she or I ever want to send you away?"

"I don't know why. People don't always need reasons. I thought it was because of Brenda. Maybe her mother said something to Mrs. Parsons about what I said before to Brenda."