for me, dear,” answered Faye as she checked her messages on her smartphone.
“I’ll let you try one of my strawberry-mango margarita’s, Doctor.” Blaine said proudly. “Got in a crate of fresh strawberries from Los Gatos yesterday.” He chuckled. “Well, at least the Mexicans still have jobs!” The laugh. I was now offended, and wanted to get up and smash the blender over his skull, but was distracted again by Brittany who adjusted her patio chair so that it was facing towards me. She brought her arms over her head, tilted her head back and arched her back in a stretch. This sent my eyes into a visual feast of her tight and tanned torso. She recovered and caught me again.
“Sorry, just a little tight from all the swimming,” she said smiling. I bet. She caught me looking at her feet. I noticed her toe nails were exquisitely painted with designs.
“Do you like them?” she asked lifting one foot and placing it on my thigh. She pointed her foot forward like a gymnast to display her slender toes.
“The artwork is fantastic,” I admired. “Very detailed.” She then raised her other foot and placed it on my other thigh, again pointing it sharply. I nodded admiringly.
“Mom, he likes Melanie’s work,” she called out.
“That’s fine, dear,” Faye remarked absently as she continued texting.
“Hold them,” Brittany said quietly. I looked up. “My feet, hold them.” I didn’t know what she meant. “In your hands.” I didn’t know what this girl wanted, but I followed her instructions. I brought my hands to my lap and took a foot in each hand. I was on autopilot as my hands began to rub the tops and sides of them. Then she pointed them further as my fingers slid under her heels and followed the contour of her high arches. Her eyes expressed a measure of pleasure. My fingers slid from her arches to her toes and back again several times.
“I like that,” she murmured. I felt myself getting aroused as she purposely slid her beautifully shaped feet in and out of my thighs. I was awoken with a splash of shame and turned my head to Mr. Tuckman.
“So, Mr. Tuckman, about your company-” Just then, Brittany’s iPhone chimed.
Thank, God! She pulled her feet gently out of my hands, retrieved the phone and settled back into the chair, drawing her long legs up to her chest. Like her mother, she was instantly lost in the device.
“Please, just call me Blaine, Doctor.”
“Okay, Blaine. There was no way Doug could have found employment with your firm? Because there are new federal tax incentives and benefits for hiring the homeless and people with disabilities.”
He didn’t even raise his head to look at me when he shook it.
“No way. Even with the benefits, Doug couldn’t be hired.”
“May I ask why?”
“He didn’t have the skill set or the aptitude. My company deals in high-end security electronics. You have to have a degree in a computer science-related field, at least, just to apply.”
“Perhaps a custodial position, window cleaner or mailroom-” He cut me off with another quick shake of his head.
“Doug is not corporate material, if you know what I mean, Dr. Flores.” That laugh again, but with a tinge of frustration. He didn’t like talking about Doogie and it showed.
“He didn’t finish high school even with the private tutors I hired for him.”
WOW! You paid for private tutors! That must have broke the bank!
“It came as no surprise, really. I mean, we knew he was retarded when he was in junior high, so he was attending Special Ed classes all through that time.”
“Your son had an intellectual disability, sir. We don’t say retarded anymore.”
“Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, by the time high school came around, he was already too far gone. We gave him to the state after his speech started going south.”
Going south! That’s how you put it, asshole?
“He couldn’t even talk,” Faye said in a rare moment when her thumb wasn’t touching the phone keys. “We couldn’t even understand him. He couldn’t do anything normally. His retardation-”
“His disability.”
“His disability got in the way of everything. It completely altered our lives. So, like Blaine said, we thought it best to let the state penitentiary-”
“State mental institution.” Idiot!
“Yes, the mental institution handled Doug from there.” Suddenly Faye’s phone chimed and she immediately picked it up.
What a work of art, this one!
“Try this!”
I turned my head and saw Brittany lifting her margarita to my lips. “It’s raspberry-pineapple! So good! Open your mouth.” Again, I was on autopilot. I took the edge of the glass onto my lips and sipped. It was good. “Have more,” she whispered. As she tipped the glass further, I felt her free hand holding my thigh. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“It is!” I faked enthusiasm as I slowly pushed the glass away. She sat back down and she drew her legs up to her chest again.
“No, Dr. Flores,” continued Blaine. “Doug couldn’t have worked for me. I’m very particular about who I hire. I’ve turned down countless qualified people because they just didn’t have that special quality. Sure, they had the credentials but I look for a special quality that sets them apart from others. I’m sure you know what I’m saying.”
“Of course. Can’t have any mental disabilities in your offices, that’s for sure.” I knew he couldn’t tell I was mocking him.
“That’s right, Doctor!” The laugh.
“Where are the drinks, dear?” Faye called out. I found my eye drawing back to Brittany and noticed she was already looking at me. She smiled; I smiled back. Her legs were drawn up, but then she slowly moved her right leg aside. My body stiffened. The large, wide patio table blocked Faye from viewing any of this; besides, she was oblivious while on her phone. The massive canopy umbrella had tassels dangling along the edges, so Blaine couldn’t see anything from the latticed cabana. I kinda felt Brittany knew all this, too.
This was my first time experiencing a full-on, first-class tease-the-middle-aged-stranger ritual, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop it, nor fight its appeal.
“One Appletini for the lady of the house!” Blaine exclaimed as he placed the drink in front of his wife. He returned to the bar and turned the blender to ICE CRUSHER mode.
Brittany glanced at her mother who was now texting someone else, then looked back to me. She took her right hand and placed it on her deeply tanned thigh and moved it closer to the edge of her bikini panty. She looked back at her father then back to me. As much as I told myself to do so, I just couldn’t look away. She slid her fingers across the yellow fabric and pulled it wide to the side. My throat locked. With a more hypnotic expression on her face, she buried her fingers in her bed of black curly hair, then sank one finger deep inside the veritable forest until it disappeared at the knuckle.
I was hypnotized at this erotic act of seduction-my seduction! Her eyes half closed for a moment, then flew open wide. Her hand retracted quickly as Blaine stepped up and propped the frosty goblet in front of me.
“One freshly-whipped strawberry-mango margarita for the good doctor!” He took his seat next to his wife and looked at her annoyingly. “Honey, we have a guest. You can check your Facebook messages later.”
“I’m not on Facebook, honey,” she retorted, still thumbing the keys. “I’m talking with Marlene. We’re discussing the menu for Thursday’s social. Start the grill, why don’t you.”
“Dad, I can give Doctor Flores a tour of the house while you’re