Chapter 2: Hesitation

Phoenix: Birthday - Monday Morning

My birthday started like a lot of them - with Jordan hopping on my bed and waking me up. I was wrenched out of the dream, gasping and disoriented. I had no time to get my bearings, though - shortly after, "Good morning, campione, it's your birthday!" Jordan noticed my raging erection, fallout from the dream. She reached for it. "Is that for me?!" I felt her hand wrap itself around my shaft, and jumped back. I looked worriedly at the thin screen separating Dad's office from his bedroom. I whispered, pushing her off me, "Jordan! Dad's going to hear you."

Jordan looked at the screen. "Fine," she said, getting off me, giving my cock another squeeze. "Spoilsport." She smirked a dimpled smile at me. "Anyway, breakfast's ready."

Breakfast was a surreal time. Jordan was perhaps a little too friendly at the table, though not overtly so, especially with Dad and Cori sitting there. Luckily, Dad was a little oblivious to Jordan's flirting, but Cori gave us both a strange look. I blushed. And I couldn't get the memory of Jordan's body pressed against me, the feeling of her hand on my cock, out of my head. No matter how much I tried to banish it, I couldn't. Jordan could always melt guys' brains. I found out that morning that I wasn't as immune as I believed, like I always pretended I was.

So I swallowed down the empanadas Cori had cooked for me in a few quick gulps, and announced I was going to go for a walk. Truthfully, I wanted to get back to my place. But I knew Jordan would be my ride there (after all, she was hosting the party, and they'd driven me to their house) and I didn't want to give her any excuse to be alone with me. I didn't trust her, and also I didn't really trust myself. The memory of her touch was too fresh in my mind. I figured I needed some fresh air, clear my head, so it was time to go for a walk.

"As long as you're going," Dad said, "you can take Maxie out, too. Her leash is by the door." Maxie was a German Shepherd. And as soon as Dad said her name, and the word 'leash', she bolted for the door. She loved going for walks. So I laughed, grabbed the leash, put it on her, grabbed one of dad's old cowboy hats (my head was shaved and had staples in it; I was supposed to avoid overexposure to the sun).

Paradise Valley is one of the oldest parts of Phoenix. And one of the more upscale. Dad was a rather successful lawyer, I'm not exactly going to apologize for where I grew up. We lived in a small neighborhood called Cherry Hill. He struggled to afford the house once Mom died, but he kept a roof over our heads, and over Cori's head too. Sometimes, she'd work for just room and board. Sure, he could have moved to a smaller house, but that was the house Mom fell in love with when they moved out from California. Mom's ashes are scattered in the backyard. There was no way he was going to move away after that.

About a half mile away, Maxie ran into one of her favorite dogs - a mastiff named Grendel, just coming off his driveway. It belonged to the president of the HOA of Cherry Hill, a nasty woman named Cindy Ravenscroft. Dad dated her for a while, almost married her; she was every bad stereotype you can imagine about ambitious lawyers, and ambitious women, all rolled together. Add all the neuroses inherited by a former child beauty queen. Luckily, Grendel was being walked by her daughter, a girl named Brandy. I used to babysit her, with my sister. Now she looked like a younger Marilyn Monroe.

The Ravenscrofts were the terror of the neighborhood. Cindy was the president of the HOA, and worked at Dad's law firm (he got her a job there; now that they've broken up, he tells me it's all kinds of awkward working there with her). Her son, Sheldon, wasn't exactly the neighborhood bully, but let's just say I'm glad we attended different schools. He suffered from testosterone poisoning. He made growing up in that neighborhood tough for a bookish, artsy boy.

Unlike her mother and brother, Brandy was a sweet girl, she had a good heart. Cindy tried pushing Dad into enrolling Jordan in a lot of beauty contests, especially since they were the same age, but after it started ruining her friendship with Brandy, all that competition, Jordan refused to participate. I didn't really blame her. Of course, now, Brandy was a knock-out. Maybe it was the high from the dream, maybe it was the lingering warmth from my sister's touch, but when I ran into Brandy while walking Maxie, I felt the urge to take her, to take her like I'd taken Daphne or Marissa or Alicia. To take her like Demetrius had taken Jordan.

I hadn't even done more than waved a hello to the girl when it happened. Something snapped in my head. I imagined I heard the murmuring that was on the other end of the ILYSKN telephone line. There was what seemed to be a bright light, my vision cut out for a brief moment. For a moment it was like I could see myself, like I was on the outside of my body. I felt a familiar weakness in my legs as I toppled to the ground.

"Eric!" Brandy ran up to me as I lay gasping for breath. "Are you okay?" The hat had fallen off me, so she added, "What the hell happened to your head? Are those staples?!"

"Brain tumor," I said, as if they happened every day. "I'm fine." Meanwhile, I was going through what had happened to me. Was it a seizure? Not the same kind, at least, as before - I didn't have an erection, at least. But Brandy had that same glazed look in her eyes that I'd come to recognize from before the surgery. Anything I'd say to her, she'd obey, or otherwise take as a truth. Despite the baser urges clamoring in my head, I decided to stay quiet until it wore off.

"I'm sure you are," she said, helping me up. "Let's get you to the house." She grunted as she pulled me to my feet, and leaned on her as she led me up her driveway. I was in no shape to walk, so I let her take me home. "You're heavy," she giggled.

"Sorry," I mumbled, and tried to shift my weight.

"Thanks," she smiled at me. "That's better."

Soon we were in her house. I stumbled into her living room and collapsed on a couch. "You're home already?" I heard her mother shout from the other room. "That was quick!"

I groaned. I looked at Brandy and whispered "I'm not here." I slid down the couch, hoping to stay out of her mother's line of sight.

But Cindy sashayed into the room, dressed in her business suit, and sure enough I soon heard her surprised voice squeak, "Oh! Eric. What are you doing here?" She looked at my head. "I see you're out of the hospital already?" Dad and she had stayed in touch after they broke up; I wasn't surprised to hear she'd known about the hospital visit. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Where her daughter reminded me of Marilyn Monroe, she reminded me of Brigitte Bardot (or, I guess, Bardot reminded me of her). If I hadn't already gotten to know her when my Dad was dating her, I'd probably find her hot, even if she was 25 years my senior.

I'll admit, I always gave her a second look. She put a lot of effort into keeping herself looking good - she worked out, she used face creams, had plastic surgery, all that sort of thing. Attractiveness was an obsession with her. I gave a wan smile. "A bit worn down." I shrugged. "Brandy said I could take a breather here if I wanted?" I gave Brandy a look that I hoped communicated that I didn't want my sudden episode of weakness to be shared.

Luckily, she seemed to get it. "Yeah, mom. Is it okay?"

A dubious smile crossed Cindy's face. Despite her veneer of politeness, Cindy always made me feel like I was something she'd just scraped off her shoe. She considered me for a moment, looking at me like Brandy had brought home a stray dog. Then she smiled her plastic brittle smile and turned to Brandy. "Of course, honey," she said. "Eric and Jordan are always welcome here." Her exclusion of my father just pissed me off. I wished she'd show respect to me, to my family, to anyone really.

Then another pressure started swirling around my skull; it felt familiar and alien all at once. Soon I felt a feeling of release, like whatever was building in my head decided to expel itself out of the front of my skull. Cindy put her hand to her head, looking woozy. "Ooo," she said, giggling, steadying herself on the couch. "Guess I had a little too much to drink last night." She blushed. "Oh, you must think horribly of me, Eric," she said, sitting on the couch next to me. "Look at me, drunk in the middle of the workday." She smiled her plastic smile at me, but it seemed to have a little more warmth. She put her hand on my knee. "You don't, do you?" Her eyes looked glazed over, plastic like a doll.

I looked at her, bewildered for a moment. I'd seen her do worse, she'd almost flaunted it when she and Dad were dating. I hadn't had a seizure, or even a dizzy episode like with Brandy, yet for some reason Cindy was acting uncharacteristically warmly toward me. I had my suspicions and my theories, all whizzing through my head. She gave a little plastic pout at my stunned silence. "You're offended?" She sighed. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?" Now she was running her hand along my arm, stroking me gently.

"Mom!" That was Brandy. "Lay off! He's Sheldon's age!" Well, not quite. He was a year older, which had seemed like a big deal when we were kids. Which didn't make her actions any more appropriate.

I took a shot. "You'll do anything I say?" I waited to see if she'd reply in the robotic monotone, or if this was a different, stranger kind of trance.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression and laughed. "Oh, you wish, sweetie." Well, I figured, scratch that off the theory list. "I didn't even do that with your father." Then she blushed, an unfamiliar scarlet crossing her face. I'd never seen her embarrassed before, though she'd done a lot of things that should have embarrassed her. I'll admit, I enjoyed seeing her blush. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "That wasn't nice of me to say." I think both Brandy and I were shocked to hear an honest apology come out of Cindy's mouth. "Oh," she said. "Look at the time. I should be in court." She put her hand on my chest. "You should drop by more often, once you get better." Then she gave a little wink, and sashayed out of the room. "Oh," she said over her shoulder, "happy birthday, Eric!"

Brandy slumped on the couch beside me, dropping into the place her mother just left. "Wow! Um, sorry about her." As long as I'd known them, she'd always apologized for her mother.

"Don't be. She's not your fault." I shook my head in disbelief. "Was she hitting on me?"

"Yeah," she said, a look of disgust on her face. She buried her face in her hands. "My mom's a cougar." Shaking her head, she added, sighing. "Not that it's the most embarrassing thing she's ever done." She looked at me. "Just don't sleep with her, okay?" She stretched, giving me a good view of her assets.

"Sleep with the Queen Bitch?" I laughed. "Please. I've never been that desperate." I stood up and called Maxie over. "Well, I guess I'll be getting out of your hair now. Thanks for letting me catch my breath."