Snoopy
Noel stared up at the clouds. "Which one?"
"The one right over there." Angela's small hand pointed to the left. "See it?"
"Yeah, okay. It does look like Snoopy."
Angela sighed contentedly. "Thanks for coming out to the park with me."
"Thanks for lunch. You didn't have to do that, you know."
"I know, but I like doing stuff for you! You should learn to just accept nice things people do for you instead of thinking you don't deserve it."
"I'll take that under advisement."
Snoopy drifted slowly toward center stage. The city sounds of traffic and people were a constant murmur, but Noel saw nothing but blue sky and fluffy clouds. Angela was right; this *was* relaxing...
And then suddenly Angela was sitting on top of him.
"Hey, Mister Policeman, you better get back to work soon. There are other people in this city besides me who need you." She leaned forward; Noel cringed as he saw her fall toward him, but she caught herself with her hands to either side of his shoulders. She looked straight down into his eyes, her hair slowly sliding down off her shoulders to build soft dark curtains to either side of her face. Her grin faded as she stared down at him, replaced with a look of... what? Curiosity?
The moment grew longer; Noel felt the weight and heat of the girl sitting on his pelvis, trapping him in a submissive position. What was she doing?
She looked like she was thinking about doing something.
Like kissing him.
"Hey," she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Know what I want to do?"
Noel was afraid to ask. "What?" he said, trying to sound casual, despite the sexual tension that gripped them.
"I wanna go to Houston!" she said with a devilish grin.
Noel looked at her strangely. That was the last thing he expected . . .
"Aquino, this is Houston. Come in, Aquino. Aquino, this is Houston. Come in, Aquino. -- Sir, I'm afraid we've lost the Aquino module."
Noel bolted upright. He found himself at his desk.
"Strike that -- communications have been restored."
Noel looked past his computer monitor. Lewis was leaning over his desk, grinning like a fool. "Have a nice nap, Noel?"
"I- I was just reviewing the parole list," he said.
"Yeah, I noticed. Been staring at the same guy for twenty minutes. With your eyes closed. So this guy 'Snoopy' Stewart, you think he's one of your guys? Which case?" She knew he was full of baloney -- she was just making him squirm.
"Nevermind," Noel stammered. He started to push his chair back to get up, but felt his pants dragging along the underside of the desk... he had an erection! Noel quickly jammed himself forward in his chair, sitting unnaturally upright, but once escaped, he couldn't quite stuff himself all the way back.
Lewis had come around the desk and gave his crotch a hard look before looking back at his screen. "New pants?" she asked with a straight face.
"What? Oh! Um, yeah, takes a couple of washes to loosen up the zipper." Noel was pretty sure that could be interpreted as some kind of double entendre, but his brain was too addled to think of what it might be.
"I wouldn't know anything about that," Lewis smirked. "Anyway, I'm off to check up on another warehouse break-in. Don't work too hard." Lewis suppressed a laugh as she made a hasty retreat.
How humiliating! Noel hadn't been caught like that since he was Ricky's age...
It was barely noon, but already Noel felt worn-out. It had nothing to do with work.
It was Angela.
Noel was having trouble sleeping. His time at home was spent averting his gaze and thinking about baseball. Now he was daydreaming at work!
He couldn't let this continue. He had to get Angela under control before something happened. Tonight he'd have a talk with her.
No, not tonight. Now.
"This is a nice surprise. What's up?" Angela glanced around the store, probably checking to see if any customers had snuck in and might interrupt.
Noel let out a deep sigh, his shoulders falling.
"We need to talk."
Noel mentally cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. Nothing good ever follows that sentence.
Angela's face darkened.
Noel pressed on. "It's about the way you're been behaving lately."
Behaving? Ouch. The parental gene asserts itself.
"What's wrong with the way I've been behaving?" Angela shot back.
Already she was on the defensive. A little voice inside Noel shouted "Abort! Abort!" But he couldn't leave this unresolved any longer. Maybe if he started a little softer...
"Look, Angela, I know things have been rough for you lately..." There's a finalist for Understatement of the Year. "And I know I'm not your father..." Oh yeah, that'll earn you points. "But the way you've been acting around the house..." Angela raised an eyebrow; he wasn't being clear. "Like the way you've been dressed, or rather, undressed...."
"Oh, that." She dismissed it with a harrumph and a roll of the eyes.
"I want to respect your right to, um, express yourself. But I have to ask you to respect my beliefs and my son's beliefs while you're staying with us." Beliefs like modesty and restraint. And not lusting after your son's girlfriend, who's less than half your age. Noel shuddered.
"You act like you've never seen a girl before."
"Well, I must admit, I seldom see *that* *much* of a girl anywhere." Good one, Aquino. Match attitude with attitude. That'll win her over.
"Is this about this morning?"
"Well..." That and last night and Tuesday and Saturday and Friday... and come to think of it, what you wore to church on Sunday showed a lot of leg...
"I thought you'd like it better than the Spiderman Underoos. Ricky seemed to."
"I'd *like* it if you didn't flaunt yourself in front of my son. Or me, for that matter." Noel asserted himself by crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, after last night, I didn't want you getting confused thinking I was anybody's mom." She turned the words like a dagger. "Or wife."
"Well, you succeeded." Actually, not true -- in Noel's mind, Angela was even more strongly linked to his late wife Margaret than ever. Watching Angela move, hearing her speak, even arguing hotly as they were -- it was like looking back through time.
"Anyway, I don't think there's anything wrong with the way I dress."
"You think it's okay to be walking around letting the whole world see your nipples."
"What? My God!" Angela was indignant, until she registered Noel's eyes dipping to her chest. She followed his gaze... and gasped.
"Oh my God! I don't know what happened." She quickly wrapped her arms around her chest, as if hugging herself. Noel noticed this served to heighten her cleavage, shadowy curves quite visible beneath the translucent black top.
Angela's embarassment was quickly trumped by anger. She threw Noel an accusing look. "I can't believe you were just standing there, staring at my boobs all this time!"
It was Noel's turn to be indignant -- what, because he noticed her exposure it was somehow his fault? "I wasn't staring! They're kind of hard to miss!"
"Well, I don't know what happened, it wasn't that see-through this morning." As if that made it all right?
"You should be more careful." The disdainful parent voice was in full effect. "Of course, it would help if you owned a few outfits that were designed to actually conceal something." Noel looked her up and down as he said this, at once shocked and attracted. This particular outfit was the most daring thing he'd seen her wear outside the house. Fantastic legs sharply defined by high heels -- how did she work in those things all day? -- too-short skirt practically painted on and cut low enough that he could see her bare hipbones -- soft slender tummy leading up to those fleshy orbs that seemed held up by magic, all on lewd display beneath a gauzy feminine parody of a man's dress shirt... Noel blinked when he realized she was speaking to him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he managed to catch Angela saying. "Have you been snooping around in my closet?" Angela's hands jammed down on her hips, which cocked to one side. Noel noticed her response didn't deny the accusation. He also noticed her perky nipples were right out there in the open again. He resumed his offensive.
"What? Don't be ridiculous. Like I have to snoop, the way you prance about the house, every day in a new outfit, and every day exposing a new body part."
Angela's tone turned suddenly sarcastic. "Gosh, Mr. Aquino, five whole days in a row and I haven't worn the same thing twice? What's wrong with me?" She crossed her arms emphatically, more to make a statement than to cover herself. As Noel struggled to reply, she raised an eyebrow. "And I'm not so sure I like the idea of you checking me out every day and passing judgement on what I'm wearing."
"If you don't want people to check you out, don't put yourself on display."
"I told you it wasn't on purpose!"
"I'm not just talking about today. It seems everything you wear is intended to tease. What happened to the young woman who dressed in baggy sweatshirts and jeans?" After saying it, Noel realized he had very little legitimate reason to have noticed her before her summer transformation. His brain quickly backtracked the comment to its source: highschool yearbook photos -- a handful of group shots that had to be studied carefully to even realize Angela was in them -- and perhaps three brief passings with nothing more than a "Hi" in the last two years.
"She grew up," Angela said, concern on her face showing that she too was wondering why Noel was familiar with the way she'd been before. "I'm not a little girl anymore."
They both stood and stared at each other, nostrils flaring, but neither with the verbal steam to continue.
Angela was the first to get herself under control. "Look, Mr. Aquino, I know you're letting me stay with you, and I appreciate that, I really do, but I don't think you have the right to tell me what to wear."
"I'm not telling..." Noel faltered, exasperated. "I'm just asking you to tone it down. I know society is telling you that you should dress a certain way, that you should try to be attractive, but... it's easy to get carried away with it, and it's not good for you." Noel quickly raised up his hand to quell her protest. "I know, I'm not your father, but I care about you, and I want to see you get on with your life and be happy. But I also have to think about my son. Angela, he's only sixteen. And he's never had a girlfriend before, at least not anything serious." At least not anything Noel knew about. "You have a lot more experience than he does-" Noel wished he could take back 'a lot' when he saw Angela's furrowed brow register it as an insult, "You're two years older," he amended, "and at some point you're going to have to get past the initial attraction and figure out what you have in common."
Noel's more reasoned approach seemed to take some of the wind out of Angela's sails. Noel breathed easier; he just might have prevented this conversation from being a train wreck. "And you have to understand Ricky's background is different from yours," he continued. "He's not as casual as you are about things," again Noel saw an insult registered, "and he may be more emotionally attached than you think." Even as Noel saw Angela wanting to protest, he was making her think. "I don't want to see Ricky get hurt, and I don't want him to think that all normal relationships are like this." Again, an insult. "Just... try to understand my position. I think I'm being very understanding here, very accomodating. I want everyone to be happy. But there's only so much sin I can write off to modern times."
Noel stopped; had he made his point? Angela wasn't jumping to bite his head off, at least...
"Wow," she finally said. "That's... a lot to think about." She leaned back against the back counter, one arm crossed over her chest, the other hand stroking her cheek thoughtfully. "Wow," she said again.
The silence was awkward; Noel felt compelled to fill it, now that things were on a better footing. "And you have to remember that I'm not just Ricky's dad. I'm a man, too, and a man can only take so much temptation."
Noel knew he'd said too much even before he noticed Angela's eyes go wide. For her part, she tried to suppress her reaction, but he'd made an impact, and like his faux pas last night, it wasn't going to slip away quietly.
Noel tried to shift the subject a bit. "I know girls can get carried away when they go shopping, especially when they have their boyfriends with them. In retrospect that probably wasn't a good idea and I shouldn't have suggested it, but you have to understand this is unfamiliar territory for me. I just think in light of what we've talked about that maybe you should re-examine your wardrobe and hopefully make a few changes that are more respectful of your host's morals, and the morals I'm trying to instill in my son."
Oh boy. Dad Mode had kicked in again. He should've quit while he was ahead.
Angela was again miffed. "Well, I'm not exactly making millions here, and I already owe you for the clothes I have, and fabric is charged by the yard, so it might be a while before I can afford to cover myself enough to meet with your approval. And I'll have to see if we have a pattern for a nun's outfit."
And Angela's heated reaction again stoked Noel's indignation. She acted as if this problem wasn't her fault. If she hadn't been so irresponsible... "Maybe if you hadn't run up a huge bill buying all kinds of lingerie and disco outfits you might have more things you could wear in polite company. But-"
"All kinds? I bought *one* nice thing to wear *in* *private* to make me feel better. And I didn't buy any 'disco outfits.' The stuff I got is what girls my age wear, or haven't you noticed?"
"That's not what they wear in front of their parents."
"You're not my dad!"
"Well, that's not what they wear to work either."
"Oh, you're the expert," Angela said, with what Noel thought might have been equal parts sarcasm and accusation. "But whatever, I bought lots of stuff I can wear anywhere. Even to church."
"That's debatable. But fine. I'm not here to argue details. I'll be happy to wait for you to pay me back if it means you can get whatever else you need to start dressing more appropriately. I don't need to be seeing every inch of you parading around in front of me. Or my son. For that matter, as long as you're living in my house and seeing my son I don't need you parading around town like some kind of... 'rap video ho.' If I remember correctly, that's part of what got you into trouble in the first place."
"That's not true! And anyway, I couldn't help it! You wouldn't understand. God, I can't believe you're blaming what happened to my mom on the way I dress." She started to tear up; Noel felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "I think you need to go," she said, her voice faltering. "I have to get back to work." She turned away, doing her shaky best to busy herself tidying up the counter. Noel just stood there, anger cooling to dumbfoundedness.
A moment later, Angela stormed off to the back of the store. Noel's lascivious eyes followed her shapely ass all the way back before returning control to his brain and allowing him to retreat.
What just happened? How did I screw that up? Noel sat in the car, stewing, demanding he figure out a way to fix it, something he could go back in there and say. But he couldn't think straight when he was so angry. And so aroused.