"So this poor slob who casually chucked my little packet into the mailbox later regretted it."
"Yeah, I'd say. He's probably got his boss all over him like a fire blanket. Steer clear, Doc. Use your mental faculties, limited though they might be."
I thanked him for the compliment and left. I went home and told Mary about the auto chase. Needless to say she was not pleased. She called me a meathead and a jerk. I was beginning to feel just like my old self again.
Tom Costello sputtered and lisped with ecstasy over the phone when I told him that his mouthpiece was ready for installation.
"Jameseeth! It'th about time. Now I can get thtarted thelling again. Tomorrow?"
"Seven-thirty sharp."
I glanced at a brochure Mary had left on my study desk explaining a new high-efficiency boiler and blower for our furnace which was guaranteed to cut our heating bill by thirty percent. If true, considering New England's climate and fuel prices, that meant we could make an extra trip to Europe each year. I studied the pamphlet carefully and called Mary in.
"Didn't Patriot Oil install something like this two years ago?"
"Uh-huh. But this guy said improvements had been made since then. He said his company would reimburse us for our present unit, so the net cost would be only nine hundred for the whole thing."
"Oh bullshit," I said, and tossed the packet into the circular file. "If it's not this, it's driveway coatings or roof sealant. Then there are the lawn doctors, tuck pointers, gutter rats, and chimney sweeps. Honey, if you listened to all of 'em we'd be broke in a year." '
"Then just forget it; he said call him only if we're interested. Janice called and asked us over for supper at seven."
"During the week? Ha! A meal at DeGroot's calls for a two-day recovery."
"No. They want to see us before they fly to the coast. Janice said it would be a pretty dry evening."
"I'll bet. The last time we went we should've worn Aqua-lungs."
But true to their word, the night held only moderate supping and sipping, and pleasant cards and conversation afterward. It was fun. Janice had on a pair of tight tennis shorts too. Her ass is, like Fujiyama, the Bay of Naples, a Grant's gazelle, Sequoia Sempervirens, a sable antelope, or other wonders of nature, awesome to behold. I could watch it for hours. On a scale of one to ten it rates a fourteen. Easy.
When I was dummy (my natural state, claims Mary) I followed Janice into the kitchen to help make more coffee. She was walking right in front of me.
"Janice, you have the nicest-"
"Ohhhh you!" she cooed, throwing a little more twitch into it. "You and your thing about my butt. Hmmph! Fat old thing; I just can't understand you, Doc. Here you're married to the most gorgeous piece on earth and… well-"
"I know she is. But it's funny, you know, sometimes you're attracted to somebody else just because they're somebody else. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I- now where is that thing?" she said to herself, bending over to get in the cabinet. She was leaning over right in front I of me, so I could see the outline of her panties underneath the shorts. Planned. She filled the decanter and poured the water into the machine.
"I do know what you mean, Doc," she said, brushing my hair aside. "Gee I think you're just gorgeous- "
"Oh of course."
"No, I really do, and you know it. You know what's going to happen someday don't you? We're going to find ourselves alone somewhere… sometime. Maybe after a party where we've had a few drinks and our guards will be down… and we'll hop into the sack."
"Oh no we won't."
"Yes we will."
"Oh no we won't."
I hoped we would.
"Listen, I think the best thing to do about this thing you have for… for my ass, is to get it out of your system a little."
"Janice, that's the dumbest- "
"I think if I give you a nice big feel, you'll feel better."
"I might feel better but I don't think it's going to-"
"Here," she said, taking my wrists in her hands. She pulled them behind her until our tummies were touching. Then she moved our hands around in back of her, fast, and wrapped my hands around so they cupped her lovely, meaty hams. I had two handfuls of luscious bun. It was a flagrant case of a 112-pound woman sexually abusing a 174-pound man. Despicable.
"How's that, Doc?" she purred.
"Great," I said. I could not tell a lie.
"Are you getting it out of your system a little?" she whispered.
"I'm getting it, but not out of my system."
"Then I think we'll have to- whoopsie!"
She disengaged, spun a pirouette like a dancer, took two fast steps sideways, and was demurely fiddling with the coffee machine as Jim strode through the doorway.
"What's goin' on? Where's that coffee? Oh, there. Well come- on then." He was gone faster than he arrived.
A deep smear of crimson had invaded Janice's neck and cheek. She grinned at me and giggled.
"Whew!" she whispered, then frowned. "Sorry, Doc."
"Let's get out of here," I said, taking the tray of cups, cream, and sugar. "And we should never do that again?
"It's going to happen at the lake I bet," she whispered as she walked steadily beside me, holding the tray of coffee and spoons. "Up at the lake. We'll be having a party at the dock, and the others will all leave for Wolfsboro to buy food and booze and there'll just be us on the dock… in only our bathing suits…"
"Nope. Never happen."
She half-closed her eyes and grinned.
"Oh I can just see it. We'll be rubbing oil on each other, then go into the boathouse and-"
"Never happen."
"Gonna happen, Doc. Gonna haaaaaaapen…"
"No. No. A thousand times no," I said, trying to convince myself. Trying not to imagine her skinning out of her wet tank suit in the shadows of the boathouse.
"Well it's a pleasant fantasy anyway. Now here we are; stop smiling."
I put the tray down and poured coffee for everyone. Mary was frowning at the cards on the table. She sipped coffee and looked up.
"You're still dummy, Charlie," she said.
"You're not kidding," I said.
I felt the eyes on me. The dreaded mal'occhio- the Evil Eye- of southern Italy.
"Why are you staring?" I asked.
"I think you know."
Ha. A bluff. How could she know what I knew? I gripped the wheel a bit tighter and swung around the curve back to Old Stone Mill Road.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't kid around. You grabbed Janice's ass in the kitchen, didn't you? I can tell because you've been smiling. You don't know you're smiling, but you are. It's the smile of Charles Adams the ass grabber. Not Doctor C. Adams after he's performed a beautiful operation, but Charles Adams the lech. And you're going to get it, buddy. Just you wait."
I didn't say anything.
"Oh I'll give you some credit; I bet it wasn't your idea. She probably set you up for it. I sort of like Janice, but she's going to have to be taught a lesson."
"What's going to happen to her?"
"I'm going to hit her on that behind of hers, so the punishment will fit the crime. I'll use an implement."
"Belt? Paddle?"
"No. Chain saw. A Homelite will also render her anatomy less attractive to you. Thus I'll kill two birds with one stone. And as for you-"
"Hmm?" I gulped, feeling a damp flush on my brow.
"I haven't decided. But it will be exquisite. I promise you."
I didn't like the cold smile she was wearing. In the dim light her swarthy features and high cheekbones gave her the appearance of an Indian squaw. I remembered that the Indians, when they captured the lone white man after a battle, handed the poor guy over to their women. Of course he would beg to be killed, but they'd refuse and tie him to an old wagon wheel and invite the squaws out. Then he'd sit there, tied to the wheel, while the womenfolk assembled a gruesome array of equipment: rawhide thongs soaking in water, glowing brands, sharp flint shards, smoked hornets' nests… and so on. I'm sure the poor guy didn't know exactly what was on the agenda, but he would have a vague hunch that it wasn't Dinner at the Ritz.