As I at last fell asleep my thoughts were on Aunt Charlotte. God, that Pipp family. They had more talent in their collective sex organs than a bank of computers at IBM.
I knew the deep freeze was on for certain when Amy arose early the following morning and flitted about, without waking me. She was already off to work by the time I rolled out of bed.
All right, so she was sore about my too-long visit with Charlotte, but it was a one-shot deal. I had made that resolve as I lay in bed the night before. We wrap up the whole sinning outfit-Trudy, Buddy, their pals and, finally, Aunt Charlotte-and bar the door to one and all.
I was ramming around the house, a bundle of tough energy, when the telephone rang. It was Trudy Pipp and the girl had picked the wrong time to call.
“What do you want?” I growled. “Forget your bowser bag?”
She giggled. “Golly, you sure are sharp for so early in the morning, Mr. Brady. I knew I'd need to call early to catch you. Are you still mad about yesterday?”
“You bet your sweet one I am.”
Her voice came back lower, seductive. “I think we can make things right. Suppose Buddy and I drop by tonight so we can discuss future baby-sitting ideas.”
“Suppose you go to hell. Tell your aunt ditto for her.”
“Come on, Mr. Brady. You know you can't put us off. We'll just drop by and patch up our lovers' quarrel, okay?”
“It's not okay,” I hissed. “Stay out of my sight and stay off this phone, Trudy. It's finished. No fooling. Finished for good. Goodbye.”
I imagine the Red Chinese in Peking could hear the slam as I brought down the receiver, breaking the connection. It helped firm me, because I wasn't kidding. It was time to save our lives, time to return to sanity, time to clear the Pipps out of our present and future, leaving them in the fading past, where they belonged.
I rushed off to work, where Sam and the office girls seemed genuinely pleased to see me. For a couple of hours I went through the piled-up papers like they were dry leaves and I was a bonfire. After a while Sam wandered into my office, a funny look in his eye.
“You been feeling poorly?” he drawled, sitting on the corner of my desk.
I shrugged. “Plenty to do at home. As a matter of fact, Amy is a little under the weather. Sorry about bugging out on you around this place, but we'll be caught up by noon, if I have anything to say about it”
He made a face. “Don't worry about this place. It runs its merry way, no matter what. Trouble is, Alice and I have missed you two for bridge. When can we get back together?”
I gave him some evasive answer that didn't make him any happier, but he settled for what he could get and then crept out, knowing I was in a working mood. Well, to hell with the Champions and their sexy ideas for a while. At the moment swapping Amy for Alice sounded like a mighty bad deal to me.
After a while I brought in a girl and dictated like a trotting horse for another hour, cleaning up three days' worth of unanswered mail. By then it was noon and I put on my coat, leaving the office with papers swirling behind me.
I had decided to hurry over to Amy's office and take her out to lunch. If she was still sore I could break her down, I was certain. After all, she didn't know what had been going on at the Pipp homestead the night before. Not only that, but I'd been worrying about her health, after her complaint about not feeling well. By now she might have an answer.
I sped into Dr. Pratt's office shortly after noon and the receptionist, a cute little blond with green eyes, smiled at me, showing me the insides of her thighs almost up to her pussy, thanks to the see-through desk. “Good afternoon, Mr. Brady. My, we've missed you around here.”
“Hi,” I replied, avoiding her exposed crotch. Jesus, the women were falling all over me these days. “I hope Amy hasn't gone to lunch yet.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Not yet. Just a moment.” She pushed a button on a box and purred, “Mrs. Brady, there's an important caller out here waiting for you.”
She looked up at me, smug and cute as hell with her little game. “She'll be right out, Mr. Brady.”
I winked into her groin and turned, sitting down with two or three patients, who turned their sorrowful eyes on me like basset hounds. They reminded me of Alexander, whom I'd left locked in the garage, hardly speaking to him that morning. Damn him. He was the cause of all my problems.
Amy popped out a moment later, looking clean and fresh and somehow sexy in her starched white uniform. “Oh, it's you.”
I turned on a smile. “Sure, Don Brady, remember? Where can we talk?”
She led the way to a side room and I followed, watching her ass twitch, thinking how lucky I was to have a wife with a good enough bottom to capture the attention of her very own husband. Not many guys went around ogling their wives. Other people's wives, yes. I was finished with other people. Amy was all I wanted.
I closed the door behind me and looked about the small supply room, which smelled like a hospital ward. “You look good, kid.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed, lifting her chin. “Well, can you explain last night?”
“Easily. We had a long talk, Aunt Charlotte and I and I told her how it was. That we were through with her young relations and to keep them out of our hair.”
“Did she agree?”
“Uh… not exactly, but I poured it to her good”- Lord, what a choice of words! — “and she got the message. I finished by walking out on her.”
She seemed doubtful. “It took you long enough.”
“I told you, I gave her the message good. We're through with the whole Pipp crowd.”
“Well…”
“I really came to find out about you, baby,” I purred, stepping close and putting my arm around her waist, pulling her hip against me. “You're not still mad, are you?”
She made another sniffing sound. “I suppose not, if you really made that woman understand.”
“Believe me, I gave her everything I had.” I hoped my nose wasn't growing longer every time I opened my mouth.
She looked me in the eye and, as I began to grind my crotch over her hip, letting her feel my hardness, she blinked. “How about Aunt Charlotte, is she attractive?”
I laughed. “That old bat? If she's thirty-five she's wearing the body of a fifty-year-old. Maybe she was like Trudy in her younger days, because she's a burned-out shell of a woman now. Ugh, really a shame.”
She blinked. “I guess I believe you.”
“What about you?” I shot back, wanting to leave the Pipp family in the dust. “Did you get over to see the doctor this morning?”
She nodded.
“Well, what did he say? Is anything wrong?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing abnormal.”
I pursed my lips. “Just fagged out, right? That's good. We'll see that you get plenty of rest, with your old dad close by to administer soothing comfort. How does that sound?”
Amy never had a chance to answer, because the door was opened behind us and the green-eyed receptionist stuck her head inside. “Ah, here you are. More visitors, I'm afraid. My, you are popular people today.”
Behind her I could see Buddy's long head bobbing and then Trudy was looking in on tiptoe. They said something to the receptionist, who stepped out of the way as they came inside. “We'll just talk to our friends in here, if you don't mind,” Trudy was purring as she closed the door on the receptionist. As she came toward us, Buddy stepped to the door and snapped the lock home.
Nothing was said for more than a minute, before Trudy, looking younger and prettier than ever, chirped, “I got kind of worried about your nastiness on the phone this morning, Mr. Brady. So we checked your office and they said you might have come over here. Lucky break for us that we caught you before you ducked out for lunch
… or a nooner or whatever it is married people do at lunchtime.”
“Didn't I make myself clear, Trudy?” I snapped, stepping before Amy and half pushing her behind me. “I want you and yours to butt out permanently. Good-by, Buddy, Trudy. It's been nice.”