It was Amy who finally spoke, and when she did, I felt a spark of admiration for her. “I think,” she murmured, her voice lifeless and far away, “That it's time to call an end to this party. Good afternoon, children.”
They looked at her, hardly believing, obviously not ready to go. “Cool it, Mrs. Brady,” Trudy snapped. “We're not leaving this gravy train until all the gravy's been eaten, you dig? Just you cool it until we say different.”
“Knock it off, Trudy,” I snapped. “You have no right to talk to my wife that way.”
Trudy raised her eyebrows at me. “Well, lover, so you've finally had enough. You've taken your pleasure with me and my friends until you've had your fill. Now it's all over and you want out. It's not going to be that easy.”
“It doesn't hardly seem fair, Mr. Brady,” Buddy was muttering and I looked on him with surprise, amazed that he seemed to be thinking. “You invite us here and then, when we want to have fun, you get sore and want us out. Why did you think we came and brought Johnny and Mary Ellen, because we wanted to sit around and discuss great books?”
“I don't know why you came and call me a rude host, if you wish,” I snapped, “but you're all going to leave at once. Make trouble, if you dare, I couldn't care less at the moment. I feel dirty and, God love her, my wife feels dirty because of your presence. So long, kids. On your way, pronto.”
They muttered about it for a few more moments and Mary Ellen swam over to me, locking her knees on my thigh. She tried to kiss me, but I turned my head away, close to throwing up as I remembered where those lips had last been.
“Come on, Mr. B., loosen up. We can have some more kicks like we did behind the diving board.” She giggled. “You wouldn't want me to tell Mrs. B what we did over there, would you?”
“I don't give a damn,” I rasped. “Quite obviously she knew we weren't reciting poetry.”
Mary Ellen turned to my wife. “In a way it was like poetry, Mrs. B. We played daddy and mommy, and he sucked my nipples real good. Then I blew him and he said I was a real fine mama through it all. He really popped his balls, I can tell you.”
Amy paled and blinked, but she did not turn away. Instead she took a deep breath and muttered, “You heard what my husband said. You're all to leave at once.”
They began to get the message that the party really was over. “You're going to regret this, Mr. Brady,” Trudy said, coming close to me, playing with the hairs on my chest. “We're such good friends, it world be a crying shame to end it all this way. Our fun could go on and on and on, you know?”
“Goodbye, Trudy,” I snapped, turning away. The sight of Mary Ellen casually fondling Johnny's penis enraged me. “You! Out! At once! All of you!”
I must have sounded like a rabid lion, for they fairly leaped from the pool, drying themselves as best they could and then pulling on their scattered clothing, not caring whose garments they plucked up in the process.
I convoyed them through the house to the door and waited, steam coming from my ears, as they filed out on the porch. It was Trudy who turned back at the end, leaning her hips against mine. She was really a very attractive girl.
“Do you hate me, Mr. Brady?”
“Just call it something less than love,” I snapped.
“I hope we won't need to make trouble.”
“So do I.” I looked into her face, meaning it. “So do I, my dear, but this can't go on.”
She shrugged and began to turn away. “As they say, it's your funeral.”
I closed the door on her and turned back toward the yard. Amy was already picking up things and restoring order to the sordid chaos of the pool area. I wanted to drain the pool and replace it with clean water.
We spent a silent afternoon, ate a silent dinner and climbed into bed in silence. Even Alexander was smart enough to stay out of our way, huddling in the garage all the remainder of that day and night.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was some time before we were able to sit down and discuss it and, by then, I thought I'd come up with a plan. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than hanging around waiting for the juvenile authorities to file charges against us and send us to jail.
We were morose, weak, vulnerable and generally sick at heart as we sat across the dinner table from each other. I watched Amy toy with her food and finally drop her fork.
“I'm still not hungry,” she said, uttering the first words I'd heard in a full day, since we'd tossed the teen-age monsters out of the house.
“Neither am I,” I muttered, watching her. “But we can't go on, hanging in limbo this way. We've got to do something or we'll destroy ourselves, even if the kids don't do the job for us.”
Amy nodded. “I know, you're right. We should get back to work. I've missed two days already and Dr. Pratt will be worried. I imagine you've got piles of work waiting at the office.”
I nodded. “Sam called and I told him we were both a little under the weather, giving him some excuse about a couple of bad steaks we'd eaten. He's trying to take up the slack.”
She tried to smile. “We ate a couple of bad steaks, all right. Steaks named Trudy and Buddy. As a matter of fact, I don't feel at all well.” She touched her forehead. “I wonder if I have a fever.”
I frowned. “You're probably simply exhausted, but I suppose you ought to see a doctor about it.”
“Yes. I'll go into work tomorrow morning and pop across the hall to see Dr: Duncan.” She paused. “You'd better get back on the job, too.”
I bit my upper lip. “I intend to, but there's one thing I'd like to check out, first. I was going to suggest you go along, but if you're not well…”
“What's that?” She was leaning forward, her eyes showing a spark of interest for the first time.
“Aunt Charlotte.”
She frowned. “Aunt Charlotte?”
“Their aunt, remember, the woman they're living with in that old two-story house a couple of blocks from here?” I knew my wife was disoriented now. It wouldn't be a bad idea at all for a doctor to look her over.
“Oh, yes, you told me about her and the house. Didn't you talk to her on the phone? You said something about her sounding like a swinger.”
I nodded. “I don't really know, except that she said something about going out on a date. But why the hell not? Trudy said she was only thirty-five, I believe, hardly old enough to sit around knitting lace curtains, especially if she's been married three times.”
Amy blinked. “She's very experienced. At any rate, why do you bring her up now? Don't tell me you want her to join the party.”
“That's not funny,” I snapped. “I thought she might be a way to help control those kids of hers.”
“She's apparently controlled them very little up until now. What could she do for us?”
“Perhaps if I went to her I could persuade her to exert a little discipline.” I swallowed, thinking fast. “If they don't turn us in, and we can get their aunt to keep them home at night, we'll stand a better chance of getting out of this mess.”
Amy made a face. “We could stay out of it if we'd only be as firm as you were yesterday, when it was time to throw them out. Of course, we are weak, I'll admit that.” She shrugged. “All right, perhaps she could help. If she could control them it would help us to build up our resistance.”
“Exactly.”
We stared at each other for a full minute, awareness growing in our eyes. Yes, it seemed we were regaining our sense of purpose. We would return to work, straighten ourselves out and begin living the good life once again. The extent of our sinning would be cheating at bridge with the Champions and maybe letting Alice Champion tickle my knee occasionally from under the table.
We picked up our forks and ate our first complete meal in a full day, feeling it add strength to our resolve. We were almost normal that evening and, if it hadn't been for my plans to go out, I might have made a pass at my wife. It would be fun to return to normal, healthy sex.