When we got to the house, everybody was so busy with greetings that only Dolores – and, possibly, Penny – noted the guy with the flagpole in his pants. Dolores made a point of making me aware of her stare.
The others descended on the cold buffet Kate had assembled as I headed immediately into the bedroom to deposit the new arrivals' bags, then high-tailed it upstairs to my bedroom. I stripped, groaning at the relief of having my cock freed for a few minutes, and stepped quickly into my bathroom. I could hear an occasional lurch of group laughter from the main room downstairs. A cold, soaked wash cloth diminished my ardor to manageable levels. I pulled on a jock and my swimsuit, then ducked into a tee-shirt and padded downstairs barefoot.
Bonita and Irene had pulled the hems of their shirts out of their jeans and were sprawled on the banquette in the bay window. Each had a can of brew and a sandwich and some potato chips. Kate was sitting in one of the wicker reading chairs. She'd turned it to face the others and not the fireplace. She looked so completely unaffected, all aglow with pleasure at having her loved ones around, that I again envied Mark. Dolores was sitting on the raised brick skirt of the fireplace, knees tucked up to her chest and the oversized tee-shirt tugged down to her ankles, so it covered her legs, too. Penny sat Amerindian style on the throw rug in front of the fireplace.
They quieted as I approached. Girl talk. Uh-oh. They were all looking at me as I constructed one of my patented diet-killer sandwiches (slab of rye bread, dijon mustard, roast beef, slice of cheese, ham, slice of cheese, salami, slice of cheese, tomato, lettuce and another slab of rye, this one with Thousand Island dressing). I was passing up my usual slice of onion in hopes of a Close Encounter of the Irene Kind. Grabbed a bottle of Guinness stout. All the while, exchanging pleasant stupidities with the five of them. This is known as Small Talk.
"Where're you going, Mark?" Kate asked as I opened the screen door.
I flipped the switch for the outdoor lights with my elbow. "Going to sit out here and read and eat and smoke my nasty pipe and let you female-type people get on with the talk that went into Pause Mode when I came down."
Irene and Bonita erupted with laughter and I felt my ears redden for no tangible reason. Kate had one of her Cheshire cat smiles now and nodded as I left them. When I stepped into the pool enclosure, I activated the Thermonuclear Bug Whackers and settled back onto the chaise lounge. Back to my Spencer!
About sixty pages later, Penny came out and frumped down into the other chaise lounge. Her expression was annoyed.
"What's up, pretty girl?"
"Dolores is really pissed off at me."
I closed Spencer and reached for my pipe; time for a refill. "Give."
"Oh, Dolores said she was going to come out here for a swim. I whispered to Mom that she'd just be bugging you again and told her she'd been bothering you on the way to the station. So Mom told Dolores to stay with us. Dolores got pissed off and went into the bedroom and turned on MTV." Penny's evident disgust became more pronounced. "She hates MTV almost as much as I do. She did it just so I wouldn't go in there."
I, on the other hand, actually liked limited doses of MTV. Something was wrong with this picture. More importantly -
"What do you mean, she was bothering me on the way to the station?"
Penny rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Uncle Dan! Do you think I'm some stupid, naive little kid? Or do you think I'm blind? I saw what she was doing." She giggled with disarming suddenness. "And I know you saw it, too."
I very nearly sprained my thumb packing the pipe. "Oh?" It sounded forced and strangled even to my own ears.
"I saw how big and hard you got down there." Another giggle. "Are you going to – " She paused, squinting, searching for the proper expression. " – jerk off?"
I groaned. "Penny, I don't think this is a really good subject for our conversation."
Her expression became surprisingly hard. "One of the things I always liked about you was that you never treated me like a little kid. Until now. I know what the score is. With Mom and Dad going at it all the time and Dolores always in heat, how could I not know?"
"Well, then, uh, why bother asking?"
Suddenly, the Little Sophisticate was an uncertain kid again. She shifted around on the chaise and finally said, "Well, I just wondered, that's all."
I was lighting my pipe, stalling her into telling more.
"And, well, I just wondered if…"
"What?"
She shook her head rapidly. "Nothing. Never mind."
"I think you asked me just because you wanted to watch me squirm. And I feel bad that you wanted to make me uncomfortable. Are you happy now?"
Her shocked expression told me I was wrong. She stood abruptly and glared. "That's not true! I don't ever want you to be sorry I'm around!"
"Then why'd you ask me that question?"
"Because…I wanted you to let me watch you do it, okay? Are*you* happy now?" And she stalked off toward the gate.
She turned abruptly. "Oh. I am supposed to enquire whether it is permissible for Bonita and Irene to swim in the pool at night." Very formal and grown-up.
"You may inform the ladies that it is entirely permissible, provided there are at least two people present at any given time."
"Thank you."
"You are most welcome. Good night…"
She executed a sharp about-face and strode away.
"…shrimp."
Without looking back, she raised one arm over her head, Badfinger extended in the classic salute. But I saw her shoulders shake and knew she was laughing. Good. I returned to my Spencer. Hawk was on the case. The only question remaining in the last 20 pages was whether Susan Silverman was coming back to our hero.
I finished the pipe and the book at the same time (she did return). I gathered my detritus and headed toward the house. Now, what could I do to get Penny completely back to being my buddy? I glanced up at the stars. Orion's Belt twinkled at me. I waved back, saying thanks. I knew what to do.
MTV was belting out from the bedroom and Kate was absent. "She went up to bed," Bonita said in response to my quizzical expression. She and Irene were talking softly and quietly. Penny was in a reading chair and she was engaged in – oddly enough – reading. I looked over her shoulder. "Gravity's Rainbow." Sometimes that "kid" scared me. It took me two weeks to get through it and she was devouring it the way grownups ate up romance novels.
I put my dishes in the sink and went down to the basement. I exited the basement through the side door, then walked around to the side of the house, where the pool-enclosure lights were blocked. It didn't take long to set up the instrument, even in the dark; its fittings were familiar old friends. When I had it all aligned and ready, I went up onto the deck and cleared my throat at the screen door.
"Anyone here interested in taking a look at Jupiter's moons through a Questar telescope?"
Penny, slouching over her book, jerked upright in her seat, eyes wide. Her head swiveled slowly toward me. "A telescope?" she breathed.
"Yep."
I know her feet must have touched the floor somewhere between her chair and me, but I didn't observe it. I barely got the screen door open before she reached it. I'm still not sure she would have waited for it to open. "Jupiter's moons!" and she was dragging Uncle Dan into the darkness.
"Over here, where the pool lights don't reach," I said, aiming about 80 pounds of Penny in the right direction.
"Come on – hurry!" she demanded, pulling 210 pounds of Uncle Dan helplessly in her wake. This, I figured, had to be what the skipper of a luxury superliner like the QE2 experiences when a tug ties on to it.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said when we were in the shadows. I explained about night-sight and made her stand, fidgeting, with her eyes closed for the requisite 30 seconds. Then I showed her to the telescope and watched the fun. She had no trouble learning the fine controls so she could do her own tracking on her target.