Chapter 33

Luis Garza waited until after seven p.m. to go to the address the 'red-headed witch' provided, freshly showered and changed. As advertized, a black woman came to the door.

Luis stuck to the script, "The club sent me to fuck you."

Phyllis Horner blinked in surprise. "Say what?"

"The club sent me to fuck you. That's what the red haired witch said to say..."

Phyllis stood there for a moment blinking. 'Who ELSE would send someone and have them say THAT?' "TRISH!"

"Momma?" Trish appeared and took a look at Luis, then looked back at her mother.

"Call Alyssa. This guy says he's from the club."

"What does he want?" Trish asked cautiously.

"To fuck me!"

"Oh." Trish looked relieved. "I'll call Alyssa. You might as well let him in..." Trish went off to get her cell phone.

"Alyssa?"

"Yeah?"

"Trish. Hey, some guy just showed up out of the blue and said he was here to fuck Momma..."

"Yeah? I don't know anything about it, but I'll call Damian..."

"I'm just glad it isn't me!" Trish gusted.

"I'll call you back -- or someone will!" Alyssa promised.

"Damian?"

"Hey."

"Trish called me. She said some guy showed up and said the club sent him to fuck her momma. Do you know anything about that?"

"No ... MOMMA!" Damian covered the mouthpiece and yelled.

"What?" Louise was justifiably irritated.

"Alyssa says Trish called her and someone showed up and said he was from the club and he was there to fuck Phyllis..." Damian related.

"Really?" Louise looked puzzled.

Fred stuck his head through the door. "Did anyone give a name? We've been passing out incentives to get the clubhouse done quick..."

"Did Trish give you a name?" Damian asked Alyssa.

"No." Damian relayed this by shaking his head.

"Tell her I'll call around and call Trish," Louise directed.

"You get that?" Damian asked.

Alyssa responded with Damian's two favorite words -- "Yes, Damian."

"Bye, Babe."

"Candace? It's Louise."

"Oh, hi -- what's up, Hon?"

"I got this third or fourth hand -- I guess some guy showed up at Phyllis' house and told her the club sent him to fuck her!" Louise related.

"Hang on..." Candace headed up the hallway. "Toby, do you know anything about sending someone to fuck Phyllis?"

"I did that," Amy raised her hand. "Part of the whole mess with Tabitha is that Phyllis is grouchy because she isn't getting any, so I sent Luis Garza over there."

"Oh, okay." Candace went back to the phone. "It's legitimate. Earlier today, Tabitha came to the clubhouse to live because there is a lot of friction at Horner's. Part of the problem is that Phyllis isn't getting any, so..."

"Oh. Okay, I get it," Louise replied.

"The guy should be that Luis Garza..." Candace began.

"Tell her, 'just do it'!" Toby erupted.

"Toby says..." Candace relayed.

"No problem -- I'll handle it!" Louise declared. "Thanks!" She hung up and dialed Horner's home phone.

"Momma! It's for you! It's Louise!" Lillian announced.

Phyllis grabbed the phone. "Louise, do you know anything about..."

"Just do it, Phyllis -- what's so hard about it?" Louise managed to sound put upon. "Yeah, it's all on the up and up -- and that means you're gonna, whether you want to or not -- but you need a little, anyway, don't you?"

"When you put it that way..." Phyllis didn't like being told who to fuck, but...

"I've fucked him and he knows what he's doing -- so let him, okay? Get rid of a little of that tension you've been carrying around!" Louise pressed.

"You fucked him?"

"Yes. He can be a wild man, too, once he gets going!"

Phyllis eyed the wiry Hispanic with increased interest. "Really?"

"Really."

"What am I supposed to give him?"

"Why don't you go at it until you're both happy?" Louise suggested.

"Yeah, well, I have to, right? So I might as well enjoy it, right?"

"Just exactly."

"Okay. Thanks, Louise!"

"Have fun!"

Luis, of course, had spent the time cooling his heels, getting angrier and angrier. "Well?" he demanded.

"I was a little surprised," Phyllis related diffidently. "No, a LOT surprised, actually. Have you had dinner?"

"What?" Luis was expecting a quick -- and the way things were going, not particularly satisfactory -- fuck, after which he would go about his business, which included dinner.

"Have you eaten? We're not on a schedule, I'm told. You may want to stay the night..."

Luis took this between the eyes; his anger deserted him. "Stay the night?"

"Yes. I hear that you're pretty good..." Phyllis produced an oddly predatory smile.

"You do?" At this point, you could have knocked Luis over with a feather! "Who... ?"

"Louise Carter says you can be a wild man..." Phyllis' eyes appraised Luis.

"Momma!" Trish was scandalized!

"You of all people know that I HAVE to do this!" Phyllis retorted, adding, "Since I HAVE to, I may as well ENJOY it!"

"What about Lillian?" Trish asked.

"Is this the same Lillian who is having sex with that Mexican boy?" Phyllis retorted.

"So," Luis asked diffidently, "What is for dinner?"

"Salmon," Phyllis replied. "Do you like salmon?"

"Yes."

"Good." Phyllis waved at the couch. "Have a seat. Let me get you a beer." Phyllis swayed off. Luis watched her ass rock as she left the room, bemused.

'Pretty big, ' he mused. 'But it's free and it comes with dinner and a beer -- and it lasts all night... ' He went over and settled onto the couch.

Trish stood eyeing him for a moment and announced, "I'm calling Bobby," heading off.

"I want to call Gabriel!" Lillian declared, following her out of the room.

Phyllis met them as she was coming back from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"I'm calling Bobby!" Trish announced.

"After supper!" Phyllis retorted. "Or go out!"

"I want... !" Lillian blustered.

"After supper! He comes here! You stay out of our way! And if you get going, you use protection!" Phyllis waved a finger at her youngest daughter. "Try not to rub Alonzo and Luther's noses in it!"

"Bobby?"

"Trish?"

"Uh huh. Are you doing anything?"

"No."

"Can we?"

Bobby was at the dinner table. He looked up and caught the expression on his mother's face as she realized that he was talking to a female. "I don't know. Maybe. Did you have something in mind?"

"I just want to get out of the house. Momma's ... entertaining."

"Oh. Okay, when?"

"Soon?"

"I ... Okay. How long?"

"Until late? Overnight, even?"

"No promises," Bobby replied. "The timing is, um, awkward. I'll call back, okay, Babe?"

"Okay."

"All right!" Arlene Beckwith burst out as Bobby hung up, "THAT was a girl!"

"Um, yeah. Mom, did I mention that I had a date to Homecoming?"

"No, you didn't, as a matter of fact! Robert..." She turned to Bobby's father.

"What?" the elder Beckwith male erupted.

"Were you aware of this?"

"No!"

Arlene turned back to her son. "Do you have a date or a girlfriend?"

"Uh, a girlfriend..."

"How long has this been going on?" Arlene asked archly.

"Uhhh..." Bobby did the math. "About a month. We, uh, got together a couple of times before school started but the guys thought I ought to try some other chicks, so I did -- but I kept going back ... We've been steady about a month."

"When were you going to bring her around?" Arlene pressed.

"Soon..."

"So what's wrong with her?" Arlene queried.

"Nothing!" It was a snap, accompanied by a glare. Arlene was somewhat taken aback by the vehemence!

"Well, then ... What did she want?" Arlene went low-key; clearly, SOMETHING was up, but she wasn't going to make any inroads using direct interrogation.

"She wanted to know if I could take her out," Bobby related.

"Does she do that a lot?" 'Is she a gold digger?' Arlene added to herself.

"This is the first time. Her mother has someone over and she doesn't want to stay at home," Bobby related.

"Why don't you..."

"Bring her here? Great idea!" Bobby snarled sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Bobby!"

"What do you expect, Arlene? Giving him the third degree like that?" Robert Sr. weighed in.

"Fine. YOU discuss this with him!" Arlene got up in a huff and headed for the kitchen.

"Let's go outside," Robert suggested. Bobby nodded and got up.

Outside, they wandered to the driveway and leaned against Bobby's car, relaxing for a moment before reopening the conversation. "Your mother is concerned about girls and sex," Robert began, whipping out a pocketknife and using it to clean his nails. "You're popular at school and girls will try to attach themselves. Some might offer sex -- and although I agree that it's the greatest thing since sliced bread, the girl might not be."

"We're not gonna have problems, Pop," Bobby sighed.

"Oh?"

"I already know about girls -- well, four or five, anyway."

"No kidding? Your mother will freak, but I'm impressed!" Robert eyed his son. "I was in college before I finally lost my cherry!"

"It's all kinda recent -- it started just before school -- but, yeah, I discovered girls and vice-versa. Since then, there have been four or five that I can think of, off the top of my head," Bobby related.

"And you have a girlfriend."

"Yeah," Bobby nodded, "And it isn't some deal where she offered herself to get close to me. We met at a party and it was kind of anonymous -- and I had to hunt HER down and she hid from me for a couple of weeks."

"Does she love you?"

"Yeah..." Bobby continued to be troubled, "and she's hot and sweet, but smart and level-headed ... Both of us have had sex elsewhere, so it isn't that -- we're not infatuated or anything, I don't think..."

"Come on -- out with it!" Robert pressed.

"Mom's gonna freak -- she's black, Pop."

Robert Senior tossed the knife away, erupting, "You dog, you! DAMN! No shit? That's fucking GREAT!"

Bobby looked at his father like he had two heads. "Pop?"

Robert Senior gathered himself and went hunting for the pocket knife. "Do you have any idea how irritating the whole 'black superman' thing is? Girls will do black guys just to see if it has any truth to it -- and, well, sometimes it does, but a lot of times it doesn't. But very few black girls cross the line..." Robert found the knife and tucked it away. "When I was your age, I had a thing for this black girl -- and back then, there just wasn't anything I could do about it. Black girls just didn't DO white guys -- except maybe after money changed hands or during a rape -- so I had no shot."

Bobby was stunned. "So you like black chicks?"

"Some," Robert admitted. "Your mother is peripherally aware of it, I think, but it's never been an issue, if you know what I mean. In a perfect world, I'd like to try one -- but your mother wouldn't understand. There is swinging, but..."

Bobby nodded. "Guys understand swinging, and they understand sex without strings, but girls have to be pushed -- or dragged -- generally."

"You DO know a bit!" Robert approved.

"Yeah, well, there have been some opportunities -- kind of a club. I might be able to explain the whole thing to YOU, Pop, but Mom would pop a blood vessel, I think. I can't let that happen," Bobby replied. "It's one of those things that's like the CIA -- if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Robert Sr. pursed his lips. "Okay. I suggest that you bring her around. If your story won't stand up on its own, I suggest the two of you agree on something and practice it -- but we might as well nurse your mother through the first shock." He paused. "I'd like to know more..."

"Pop, I can't -- but I can ask that you be read in. There is a price to be paid -- we have to know that the secrets involved are gonna be kept, and that means you're gonna have to provide some guarantees..." Bobby related.

"Sounds serious."

"Well, it is and it isn't. People could get hurt, seriously, if the whole thing got out, despite the fact that there isn't anything terrible about it. It's more perception than reality," Bobby advised.

"Let's get past the immediate problem," Robert decided.

"Okay."

"Go get your girlfriend. Work out your cover story. Bring her back here and we'll get your mother past this thing."

"Okay, Pop. Pop? Mom's gonna have to understand. Remember that day I came home right after the beginning of classes roughed up? That was with black guys -- over Trish. I'm not dumping her."

"I understand -- and I'll back you. Go!" Robert got up from leaning on the car and waved Bobby into it, then headed back to the house. "Arlene! Do whatever it is you need to do -- Bobby's bringing his girlfriend home with him!"

"Oh, Gawd -- the house is a mess! What did you two talk about?" Arlene wailed

"Bobby was concerned that no matter what happened, you would get over-excited by the whole idea of him dating a girl. I've spoken to him about her and he's serious about her -- and they've both seen other people at one point or another. The girl isn't a gold digger -- Bobby more or less had to pursue her. Given what he's told me, you can ease your mind on that score," Robert assured his wife.

"When did he start dating?" Arlene wanted to know.

"Over the summer. I didn't get all of the details, but maybe it was team events."

"I'm coming, Honey. I've got good news and bad news..." Bobby related to Trish over the phone.

"Okay. Bad news first, I guess," Trish sighed.

"My folks want to meet you. I was at the dinner table when you called and Mom figured out that there was a girl involved..."

"Oh, shit! What do they know?"

"Pop knows just about everything we can be honest about, but Mom only knows there is a girl," Bobby related.

"Your father knows..."

" ... That you're black? Yes -- and he was REALLY cool about it!" Bobby exulted.

"Okay. But your mother..."

"She's high-strung. She was gonna freak, anyway, which is why I hadn't said anything -- chicken, I guess. I have no idea what she's gonna say about color -- you being a girl was going to be enough."

"Okay, so I'll put something nice on..."

"All night is probably out," Bobby sighed.

"It will be nice when the new clubhouse is finished," Trish mused.

"Yeah. I'll call Toby -- I need to talk to him, anyway. Maybe there is a room we can use when we leave my house."

"If things go bad, I think I'm gonna need it," Trish worried.

"Mom will just have to deal with it," Bobby insisted, "I've ALREADY got too much of me invested in you!"

"Oh, Bobby!"

"Just get ready!"

"Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"This is Bobby, Man. Hey, look -- my dad is asking questions. Mom is, too, but I think we can put her off. Dad might be interested in joining -- but he'd have to drag Mom along to have a clear conscience, and she's, well, high-strung..."

"What have you told him?"

"That I can't tell him."

"Where are you?"

"Going to pick up Trish. My folks want to meet her -- that's what melted things down. Pop is cool with Trish, but Mom could do ANYTHING!"