Chapter 47
Various Motherly Reactions to Changes in Status

"Mama's sure actin' weird," Nate observed.

"Well, she's had a tough week," Nora replied.

The couple had returned to the Media Room to watch TV, with Leticia in tow. Nate gave Leticia the eye and grunted, "You've had a tough morning."

"Yes, Sir," Leticia agreed. "This isn't the end of it, either, Sir. Mr. Wilson has punished me in other ways, and I expect that it will go on for a while."

"Well, we're done with ya, for now, anyway. I guess you can go do whatever else y'all oughta be doing." Nate waved her away and Leticia backed out of the couple's presence.

"Oooo, Mister Magnanimous!" Nora giggled.

"Yeh, well, I'll harrass her ass when your Daddy seems to want it, but it ain't a full time job, or even a whole lot of fun," Nate replied. "Let's cuddle up and watch the tube."

Elsewhere, another couple was 'watching the tube'. Toby had arrived at Erin's and the pair were on the couch, channel-surfing while they awaited Erin's mother's departure for work. Caitlin kept an eye on them whenever possible, but they were keeping things pretty innocuous. Finally, she had to leave -- but Toby and Erin suddenly didn't seem to require heavy petting; Erin merely snuggled up tight to Toby on the couch while they watched whatever suited them.

The seed Toby planted with his mother bore odd fruit for Randall. The phone rang at the Braithewaite home, and Jean answered it, "Hello? Oh, hi, Penny. What's new?"

"Toby seeing girls, apparently," Penny Brillstein replied. "Has Randall mentioned it?"

"No, Randall hasn't mentioned Toby and girls in the same sentence in some time," Jean replied -- but then Peter got her attention. "Hang on a second, will you?"

Peter looked up. "What's this about Toby and girls?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Jean replied. "Toby claims to have a girlfriend, I guess."

"Well, I gather that the Astronomy Club is suddenly co-ed," Peter replied, "and if Toby is sporting a girlfriend, he's not the only one."

"Oh? Who else?" Jean asked. Peter just eyed her until the light dawned. "Oh! Penny, I'll get back to you -- apparently, there may be some truth to the tale. I'll let you know..." There were hurried goodbyes, and Jean cradled the phone. "Randall is seeing a girl? I need to talk to him -- the games some of them play are just evil..." Jean headed for the stairs. Boys like Randall -- well, girls had little use for them, in general, except as a butt of humor. The fact that she'd dated Peter on a bet with a sorority sister was a guilty secret that she carried with her always. Poor Randall -- obviously, he was being set up in some manner... Bursting into his room, Jean found her son stretched out on his bed in his underwear. "What's this I hear that you're seeing a girl?"

"Mom!" Randall snatched a corner of the comforter over his underclothes, then gathered his wits for a reply. "It's about time, isn't it?"

"Well, maybe, but people can be cruel. How long has this been going on?"

Randall thought about it. "About a week."

"Is there some event coming up? I know you've seen all of those movies where somebody gets dumped on by somebody out to win a bet or something..." Jean pressed.

"No. No events. I'm pretty sure this is on the up and up," Randall replied carefully.

"Well, I'm just concerned that some girl might lead you on and then hurt you -- or make big promises -- you know."

Randall shrugged. "Thus far, things are pretty good. No one has made any commitments they couldn't back up. This thing is new to both of us, so we're being careful..." '... Even if we're NOT going slow,' he added mentally.

Jean was skeptical. "So, do I know this person?"

"Yeah. Actually, you do. It's Darla Jean."

"The Nevins girl? She's quite a tomboy..." Not tremendous looking, either, as Jean remembered. A scrawny redhead who dressed in boys' clothes -- Jean remembered her from several years before, when the division between male and female was primarily an issue of childish silliness. She'd been a partner for intellectual pursuits, at that point, and the female thing had been largely ignored, since she'd basically presented herself as one of the boys. That had been pre-puberty, though -- Darla Jean had drifted out of sight when the boys had started noticing girls as something other than a nuisance; she could have drifted in any direction in the years since... Still, what were the chances that she was really up to Randall's standard? Not that finding a girl who was both willing to date him AND worthy of him was going to be easy...

Randall grinned. "She's filled out a little, and discovered that she's a girl. It'll be all right. Actually, we're pretty well matched."

"Well, maybe. But there's more to life than chess, you know. Or astronomy."

"Uh huh. I'm aware. We both are," Randall insisted.

Jean knew that Randall was; she'd been discovering the evidence of his autoerotic stress relief for years, despite his careful efforts at cleanup. But Darla Jean hadn't ever presented herself as anything resembling a sexual being, never mind something of a class that could handle Randall, if he was anything like his father. "Well, I'd hate for you to settle for someone who might be a disappointment in some areas, just because."

"That's, uh, not an issue," Randall replied, then abruptly shut up when his mother blinked in surprise. 'Oh, shit!' he thought.

"Does that mean what I THINK it means?" Jean asked.

"Uuh, yeah, I guess it does," Randall admitted.

Jean pondered this development. Earlier fears that he might be being used gave way to new fears over promiscuity, diseases, pregnancy... Was this a good thing, or a bad one? She started cautiously, "Are you using protection?"

Randall's answer wasn't encouraging. "Well, Darla Jean is on the Pill..." of course, she'd only been on it for a couple of days, and they were having sex like they knew it was already fully effective -- which was NOT the case.

"What about diseases?" Jean pressed.

"Um, we're each other's first," Randall temporized. Unfortunately, they were neither the last nor the only, in either case...

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Well, it was easier to tell, with a girl... Still... "Even if you consider this to be a committed relationship, it may not stay that way."

"Mom, neither of us is a COMPLETE idiot," Randall groused. "We've discussed... contingencies. Open communication is big."

"What does THAT mean?"

"We promised to be honest with each other if... something else... came along," Randall said carefully.

"That's very... adult... of you," Jean replied, "but what about hurt feelings?"

"Um, there's kind of a 'hold blameless' clause," Randall replied.

"So is this a relationship, or something else?" Jean asked skeptically.

"We're being real careful," Randall replied. "Neither of us is the 'put all of your eggs in one basket' type. But things are off to a great start."

"I guess," Jean grunted, "if you're having sex."

"There are other dimensions," Randall said defensively. "Darla Jean is VERY sharp -- a great partner. She isn't some dumb bimbo who doesn't understand what I'm up to and couldn't care less."

"Well, okay," Jean grunted, thinking, 'Like I have a choice...' "Is Toby suddenly collecting girls, too?"

"Very suddenly," Randall grinned. "We sicced Erin McGrath on him yesterday afternoon so he'd get tied up and be unable to go to the astronomy Club meeting. Things went pretty well, apparently."

"Isn't Erin, um, 'loose'?"

Randall thought about it. "I don't think it's as bad as advertised. She's a little slow, and it got her one high-profile run-in, and she's been stuck with the reputation ever since. While she's not above having sex on the first date, it would be because she thought things were going well, not because she's a... slut." He eyed his mother to see how THAT word went over. Jean flinched, but took it without comment. "Toby says they didn't get any further than heavy petting last night -- and he was good with that."

"Apparently they're seeing each other today," Jean revealed. "What do you figure is going to happen?"

"Mom, what are you asking me?" Randall exclaimed. "Do I think they'll have sex? Yeah. Soon, if Toby doesn't get stupid and Erin is comfortable with things. After that, anything can happen; if it's good, they'll probably be a couple for a while. If not, it'll be over." He eyed his mother, then added, "Both of them have sex on their minds -- and they're both old enough that interference from Toby's mom will just drive them underground."

Jean smiled grimly. "Pandora's box is already open, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Randall agreed -- and the emphasis that went with it said that the statement applied as much to himself as to Toby.

"So what are your plans for the day?" Jean asked.

"Nothing solid. I need a nap."

"Busy night?" Jean needled.

"Mom, do you REALLY want to know?" Randall pushed back.

"I guess not," she temporized. "I'll wake you in a couple of hours." She let herself out. Time to make a phone call...

Phone calls and parental interference were apparently the order of the day; Frieda Frick got a very unsettling dose when HER phone rang. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Frick? This is Irma Nally, Mary's mother."

"Hello..."

Irma leapt right in, "I'm calling to inform you that your son is having sex with my daughter!"

"Oh, my!" Teddy was doing 'that'? Already? But he was only -- what -- almost eighteen?

"Oh, my, is right!" Irma pressed. "That's not the half of it! Twice, I've caught him in bed with her with another boy present!"

"My goodness!" Frieda felt faint! That sounded distinctly wild -- not her little boy at all! "Are you sure it's Teddy?"

"Positive."

Given a moment to regroup, Frieda asked, "What are you doing about it?"

"For a start, I'm calling you!" Irma retorted.

"Why?" Frieda shot back. "From the sound of things, your daughter..." Frieda let that trail off before she said something specifically insulting and tried again, "My Teddy wouldn't take an active role in such a thing -- he'd have to have been... encouraged..."

THIS wasn't going well. The real irritation was that Irma knew that Teddy's mother was right -- having met Teddy, Irma would've been willing to bet that the only way Mary was going to have sex with him was if she held him down, undressed him, got him erect somehow despite his fear, and mounted him! But her eyes had taken in different... "Be that as it may, I felt you should know, so you can take appropriate action," Irma huffed.

"Thank you," Frieda said faintly.

"My real concern is the other boy," Irma related. "He's... black..."

"Oh, my!" Frieda considered herself to be a twenty-first century woman, but this kind of direct challenge to her belief structure took her aback.

"Uh huh," Irma grunted fatuously, pleased at the success of the attack. "God knows how HE figures in things! He's probably directing these... perversions!"

Frieda frowned. Anyone who talked with her for more than a minute knew that Mary was 'worldly' -- and, frankly, that was the only type of woman Frieda saw her son ever entering into a relationship with. The black boy was an oddity, something that Frieda couldn't quite make fit into the puzzle, but her initial shock had dissipated. Besides, Mary was unfortunately heavy, and you saw her type with black men all of the time! Once again, the only person apparently indicted for anything was Mary. "I'll... speak to him about it."

"See that you do!" Irma hung up, satisfied that she'd undoubtedly rocked the boat for Mary and her pervert boyfriends.

"Theodore!" Teddy's name was Teddy, not Theodore -- but an early childhood convention had set the precedent -- when his mother called him Theodore, he was in trouble! Teddy, who'd arrived from Mary's after dropping off Stick (in broad daylight) had crashed for a nap after his bout of sexual Olympics the night before. Now, he struggled up, rubbing his face, "Ma?"

"That Nally girl's mother just called -- and she says you're having sex! What do you have to say for yourself?" Ma was standing there with her hands on her hips, glowering down at him.

"I--I, we--" Teddy was in no shape for an inquisition. Mary's mother had called Ma? God, what ELSE was out? "Yeah." Teddy hung his head.

"Whatever were you thinking? The girl's own mother admits she's a slut -- why can't you date nice girls?"

Ma's idea of a nice girl was this vague image of someone who wouldn't compete with her and didn't know what sex was -- some idealized creature who would let him live at home... "Ma, I don't think there are any girls out there who would meet your standards -- and if there WERE, they wouldn't want anything to do with me! Besides, Mary isn't a slut!"

"Why wouldn't they? You're a wonderful boy! Or at least you were..." Ma gave him the fish eye. "And of course she's a slut -- I hear she was taking on another boy with you there!"

"Ma! You don't know anything about it!"

"Irma Nally does, and she says her daughter is having sex with you and another boy! That isn't being a slut? What about that other girl, Nora something?"

"Nora has a boyfriend, Ma. Girls don't take me seriously. Heck, I have trouble getting BOYS to take me seriously!" Teddy grumbled.

"Well, I guess this other boy doesn't take you seriously if he's having sex with Mary while you're there!" Frieda exclaimed.

"Actually, he takes me VERY seriously!" Teddy shot back. "More seriously than just about anybody -- except Mary!"

"Right." Her poor boy; he was so small, so fragile. "It's really considerate of him to try to take your girls away..."

"That isn't how it is! We SHARE Mary! And Stick is considerate in... other ways..." Holy shit! Better watch the mouth!

Too late! Frieda pounced. "What other ways? What on Earth can a young black boy do for YOU?"

"We're... friends..." Teddy got out.

"Since when? How come I've never seen him? Is he in the Chess Club? The Astronomy Club? And by the way, WAS there an Astronomy Club meeting last night?"

Oh, boy -- THIS was going downhill FAST! "Umm, since the Prom. It's a new thing. No, he's not in the clubs -- but he went with me last night -- and there WAS a meeting!"

"So, no clubs. So what do you have in common? What does he do for you that is so worthwhile that you SHARE a girl? What did he do at the Prom that made you such fast friends?"

"Ummm, he sorta protects me from people. Sticks up for me. Prom Night, he sorta protected me from Mary -- she can be kinda overwhelming..."

"So, he's your bodyguard? And you pay him off in sex with Mary?"

"No, no, it's not like that!" Teddy protested. "We all have a relationship! We each get something from the others!"

"And what do you get from this... Dick?"

"Stick, Ma. Stick Williams."

"Stick? That's his real name?"

"It's all anybody ever calls him..."

"Sounds like some kind of hood," Frieda grunted. "So, what do you get from him? What do the two of you have in common except sex?"

Teddy got mad. "Nothing, I guess."

"So what do you two do when you're not having sex with Mary?"

"What a lot of Mama's boys do, I guess," Teddy rasped.

Frieda blanched. Teddy didn't take that tone with her; he was a good boy! And the 'mama's boy' comment had something ugly sticking to the underside; if she took it up, God knew what would surface! "You're not a mama's boy!"

"Yes, Ma, I'm a mama's boy!" Teddy returned. The cat was out of the bag; he might as well go for broke! "And girls ignore mama's boys -- or treat them as one of the girls -- unless they're looking for someone to control! And guys do the same thing, after their fashion -- either they beat the snot out of you or they ignore you -- or they treat you like one of the girls..."

There it was again, that ugly thing, lurking. Teddy was totally out of control; whatever it was that was eating him she was going to hear it, now! "So..."

"So we have SEX, Ma! Stick and I have sex!" Teddy shrieked.

"You... Oh, God!" Frieda's face collapsed. "You're gay?" The worst of it was the complete lack of surprise, once she got past the denial...

"What?" Teddy was deep in the sway of pent-up emotion. "I dunno! I THOUGHT I was -- but it's good with Mary..."

"Then you're not!" It's all a bad dream, then...

"Well, it's good with Stick, too!"

"Oh." Frieda sat down -- or maybe collapsed -- in the only chair in the room. She sat there, silent, while Teddy wound down.

After a bit, Teddy took in his mother's slumped state in her chair. Obviously, she was blaming herself. "It's okay, really."

"Maybe you're just confused," Frieda offered. "You probably haven't tried... everything..."

"Maybe not everything," Teddy agreed. "Some things I don't seem to be built to do."

"Sorry?" Frieda looked up, puzzled.

"I'm... built funny." Teddy cocked his head. This, finally, was the 'sex talk'; it'd never come up before -- Ma couldn't seem to approach it. She hadn't seen him naked since he was ten, probably. "Are you sure you want to get into this?"

"It seems like we're too late, but I can try." Built funny? He was probably embarrassed because it was little... "Just because you're not huge... It grows, you know." Frieda's late husband hadn't been gifted in that department, but they made due with what he had. Besides, it had worked just fine; the boy standing before her was living proof.

"Yeah, I know. Mine's... different, though. I've seen a few, and mine... Well, it makes some things hard to do."

Frieda's face got quizzical. "Like what?"

"Like normal sex with girls. And some other things."

"I don't understand, Honey. It gets stiff, right?" 'God, I can't believe we're having this conversation...'

"Yeah, it gets stiff -- and it gets thick, too -- too thick, maybe."

Frieda shook her head. "I don't see how it could be anything too abnormal..."

"Well, it is. Everybody says so!" Teddy insisted.

"Everybody?"

"Well everyone who's seen it. Girls are nice about it, but they don't exactly line up to get it..."

Frieda shook her head. What were other kids filling poor Teddy's head with? "Well, Mary does, right?" She couldn't believe that she was bringing THAT up! Given the alternatives, though...

"Well, yeah, but she needs a warm up." Teddy grinned despite himself. "That's one of the things Stick helps with."

"I don't understand. You're not making a lot of sense."

"Look, I don't know of any good way to explain it -- look, can I show you?"

Was this going too far? Given the fact that Teddy already apparently thought he was gay, maybe it wasn't far enough... "If you think it'll help, Sweetheart." Frieda couldn't imagine what kind of issue Teddy thought he had.

"Okay, I've got to get it to grow -- you wouldn't notice it like this..." Teddy spun around and began rummaging around in his sweats, thinking, 'IF I can get it up with Ma sitting there...'

It turned out that it wasn't a problem, after all; like most boys, Teddy had filled the occasional masturbation session with maternal fantasies -- in fact, given his limited access to females and the fact that her matronly form included a pair of sizeable breasts that weren't always adequately fettered, he'd spent a lot of time dreaming of a situation with at least some similarity to this one. In any case, his little soldier went right to attention. "Okay, THIS is the problem," he announced, turning to face his mother and lowering his sweatpants.

Frieda's eyes bulged. "Oh, my!" The mushroom head of Teddy's... thing... was the size of half a tennis ball! "That's... amazing!"

"Well, maybe, but it's tough to get in a girl," Teddy replied. "Stick says I'll never get a virgin with it."

"Well, girls DO stretch..." Frieda hazarded.

"Yeah. Mary does, but we have to work at it."

"So," Frieda gingerly took up the challenge, "if normal sex with a girl is difficult, what isn't?"

Teddy eyed his mother for a moment. She really wasn't going to want to hear what was coming, but she was giving him a chance to get it out, anyway... How to put this, so it didn't offend Ma's ears too much? "Well, oral sex seems to work pretty well, all around." That went over okay, so he added, "Stick isn't really into it, but he'll do it -- and it doesn't seem to bother Mary, except that I cum a lot."

"Oh." Frieda shifted her attention to the pair of fat, heavy-looking balls hanging below Teddy's odd penis. "We should probably get you roomier underwear -- don't your briefs bind you?"

"Yeah, sometimes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I couldn't really talk about it, either."

Frieda eyed the exposed display. "Now that I think about it, you probably got some of your equipment from your Grandpa Peterman." 'That would explain some of the comments Mama used to make about being able to give birth to twins and the smile she always had whenever the conversation approached the subject of sex, however obliquely -- and maybe that weird reference to 'fisting', whatever THAT was...' Frieda mused. Her mother had been 'robust', too -- and had pumped out four girls (including the twins) and a boy before Papa did something and the baby making stopped. Certainly, Teddy's father, God rest his soul, didn't contribute much to that display; he'd been, well, small -- but very hard... Frieda, who had never had anyone else, had always been a bit confused as to why everybody went on and on about sex... "I've only seen your father, and he wasn't... big. How odd is this?" She waved a hand at Teddy's equipment.

"Well, usually, they're longer," Teddy replied, embarrassed. "An inch or so, anyway, sometimes by several inches. And usually they're thicker through here..." He fingered his shaft.

"That's your father's contribution, I'm afraid," Frieda murmured.

"But the head is oversize," Teddy staggered on, "Maybe twice as big as normal -- from what I've seen."

Frieda gathered herself. "So, Mary... sucks you. And Stick does, too..." She waved for him to pull up his pants.

Teddy saw where she was going, "And I do them. Both. In fact, that's how Stick and I got together -- I sucked him off at a glory hole."

Frieda's pinched expression said she'd gotten too much information, but she gamely asked, "Glory hole?"

"Um, yeah. It's a waist-high hole, usually in the wall between two stalls in a public Men's Room or sometimes between two little video viewing rooms in adult book stores called peep booths -- no, I've never been in one, I've just heard of them. Anyway, you stick... yourself... through the hole and the person on the other side sucks you. You don't see each other, so it's anonymous sex."

"Oh." Frieda absorbed this for a moment. "If it's anonymous, how did Stick find you?"

Teddy grinned. "That's where Mary enters the story. She caught us both coming out of the Men's Room with funny looks on our faces, added two and two, and blackmailed us into going to her place."

"So, you weren't drunk Prom night? It was just an excuse?" Frieda frowned.

"I was drunk all right -- on one beer. I was scared sh--, uh, stiff, so Mary gave me a beer. I took it to the bathroom and drank it, real fast. I was loopy when I came out, but my worst fears were realized, anyway -- Mary had outed me to Stick. But she'd covered me, too, threatening to out Stick if he did anything stupid."

"Okaaaay..." Frieda pondered a moment. "What did Mary get out of it?"

"Well, I was off and on scared of Mary, because she had an agenda. She wanted a boyfriend, and she knew too much. She's invited a couple of guys up to her room, and then tried to tie them down afterward -- and she ALREADY had blackmail material on me..." He sighed. "Anyway, what Mary wanted was a tryout, preferably more than once, by each of us. She figured that if we both were with her a few times, one of us might get interested -- and since there were two of us, we could kind of keep her from getting all grabby over one of us." He grinned fondly. "It worked, too -- on both of us. Neither of us had ever had a girl, and Stick's experience with gay stuff was limited to that one time with me, so it was a chance for everybody to compare..."

Frieda picked up on what hadn't been said, "Stick wasn't your first."

"No," Teddy agreed, eyeing his feet. "There were a couple of others. Enough for me to know that I liked it."

Frieda gathered herself. "What else have you done?"

Teddy looked up. "The other thing. I've done the behind thing a couple of times, with Stick."

Frieda shuddered. "You on him? Or..."

"Him on me. That's another thing I can't do. Besides, Stick is REALLY skinny -- that's why they call him Stick. He couldn't take it, even if he wanted to, which he doesn't. But I can -- and I like it."

"What about Mary?"

"What about...? Oh, there? Well, it's possible, I guess -- and she might be willing, but it's quite a stretch. But the regular way is pretty good, once we get going."

Tears were streaming down Frieda's face, but she stood and gathered her son in for a hug. "I know enough to realize that you can't just wish this kind of thing away, so I'll learn to live with it. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Ma -- it's good, actually. We're like a couple, only there are three of us. The worst part is the embarrassing explanations."

"I imagine so!"

"Well, I think the worst one is behind me, now..."

"Who else knows?" Frieda asked. Was Teddy exposed? Was he taking a lot of abuse?

"Well, most of my close friends, and Mary's -- and a couple of Stick's closest friends that are in our group. Most of Stick's friends wouldn't be forgiving, so we pretend that he's pimping Mary to me for favors like rides to school. It keeps most people from asking embarrassing questions..."

"It can't be pleasant for you or Mary..."

"We don't mind. Our friends all know and understand, but Sticks wouldn't. Still, it's gonna come out, sooner or later. It's a storm we'll have to weather."

"Well, I'm here if you need me. Perhaps I should meet Stick..."

"If you want." Teddy was surprised; he didn't expect Ma to take it all very well.

"I need to learn to deal with reality, Sweetheart, and if this is how it is..." Frieda squeezed her son.

"Thanks, Ma." Teddy squeezed back. Then he leaned back, "What about Mary?"

"She's welcome, too, of course -- but I've met her, at least." She frowned. "Why do you think her mother is going to such lengths to slander her?"

"She wants to break us up," Teddy replied. "Mary's dad is cool, but her mom is up in arms."

"Why?"

"Well, partly, it's the threesome thing -- but mostly, it's Stick. She has this racist thing..."

"Oh. Bad."

"The good news is that Stick's folks already have a slanted version of the story, so if she were to call them, it wouldn't do any good." Teddy grinned.

"Slanted?"

"They think he's pimping Mary to me."

"Ah. Well, you all can at least meet here. I don't know if I'm comfortable about sex, but I won't harass you."

"Thanks, Ma."

This, of course, led to another phone call... "Mary?"

"Teddy? Hi, Hon. Forget something?"

"No. We've got trouble. Your Ma called my Ma and told her we were sleeping together -- and she mentioned Stick."

"Oh, shit! Are you okay?"

"Well, it kind of cleared the air, actually. I told Ma. Everything."

"Everything?" Mary was aghast.

"Everything. Well, I left out some details, but she pretty much has it all."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. She wasn't thrilled, but I don't think she was THAT surprised, either. We're cool. We're ALL cool, at my house -- although I don't think Ma is gonna want to put up with us doing stuff..."

"Well, I'm grounded, anyway, at least until Pop gets home. Mom probably hit me up right after she lit into your Ma." Mary grumbled. "Better call Stick and warn him."

"Okay. I figure, though, it won't be a problem -- his folks already know the slanted version, and your Mom doesn't know the parts that would get him into trouble."

"Yeah, that's right. I'd warn him, anyway, Hon."

"Okay. Let me know when you've been freed!"

"Sure. Bye, Hon."

"Bye, Mary."

On to the next call:

"Stick, you gotta phone call!" Rose Williams yelled down the hallway.

"Awright!" Stick clambered up off the couch; he wasn't sleeping well, anyway, with the twins raising Hell. "Yeh?"

"Stick?"

"Ted?"

"Uh huh. Look, I'm calling to tell you that Mary's Ma called mine and tried to get me in trouble -- so she might try you, too."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Mary's grounded, too, although she expects that her Dad is gonna overrule her Mom."

"That's gonna make life fun 'round her place."

"Yeah, but we've got a fall-back. My place."

"Huh? What's yo' Mama gonna say 'bout that?" Stick was amazed!

"Well, you can pretty much figure that we had a looooong talk... In fact, we had THE talk -- and Ma's... cool with the whole thing."

"Everything?"

"Everything. In fact, she wants to meet you. Want to come over tomorrow and hang out?"

"Shit, I guess! Better than listening to my twin brothers tearin' up the place!" Stick enthused.

"Okay, one o'clock? We can watch football or something."

"Cool. You're SURE it's okay?"

"Well, Ma isn't much into sex at any level, so..."

"Gotcha. Okay, you comin' by, then?"

"Sure. About one."

" 'Kay. Later, Ted."

"Later."

The next call was totally unrelated:

Helene Bryant picked up her kitchen phone, "Hullo?"

"Is Louise there?" a male voice asked.

"Who wants to know? Is this the boy with the pickup from yesterday?"

"Well, yes..."

"My daughter is a God-fearing girl! I won't have the likes of YOU ruining her virtue, do you hear me?"

"Well, okay..." Dwayne was nonplussed. What had they done, in sight of the house? Had Louise's mother given her the third degree and heard about that bit of necking they'd done at the park? "Can I talk to her?"

"No!" Helene slammed the phone down. Then she went off to rant at poor Louise.

THAT call led to THIS call:

"Rob?"

"Dude! So, how does little Louise look in the morning?" Rob Graham was feeling pretty pleased with himself; Mary Eikenberry had spent the night spooned against him in bed and his mother had been routed in her attempt to abuse his new girlfriend.

"Well, Louise is cuter than I ever expected, but her Mom's a psycho bitch -- some kind of born-again man-hater! I tried calling Louise to set up our date tonight and she answered the phone. I got this rant about how I wasn't getting into Louise's pants and she hung up on me!"

"Man, THAT sucks! So..."

"Well, guys aren't gonna get a call in there, obviously. Could you get Mary to run interference for me? Pass Louise my phone number, and see if the coast is clear?" Dwayne asked.

"Sure. Give me a minute. I'll have her call you. If she can't, I'll call you back, ok?"

"Great! Thanks for the assist, Man!"

"No problem."

Mary was working hard at NOT explaining to her mother where she had spent the night when Rob called. The look on her face when she answered and said, "Hi, Rob," however, gave the game away. Kimberley Eikenberry knew well who Rob Graham was, and was well aware that Mary had been meeting him here and there for a couple of weeks; Mary's glow said that things had escalated well beyond the 'just friends' stage. Rob was a catch; the question was, had Mary caught him, or was she just another number on the tote board for Rob, whose reputation was ALSO known to Kimberley. This wasn't the moment to ask THOSE questions, however, so Kimberley bided her time...

"Hi, Babe," Rob's voice smiled. "Hey, you need to baby-sit your matchmaking project."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Dwayne called. Louise's mother went all psycho-bitch on him over the phone. Dwayne doesn't know which end is up, and he can't get to Louise. Wanna give her a call, pass Dwayne's number, and help her get out of the house?"

"Sure, Sweetheart. It's the least I can do! Let me get a pen..." She scrawled Dwayne's number on some scratch paper by the phone. "Am I going to see you tonight?"

"Well, I don't particularly want to stay home and watch Mother sulk... How about a movie?"

"We don't have to go out..."

"And you don't have to be insatiable, either, Babe. Let's work on the other pieces; you've got that one down pat."

"Compliments will get you an extra helping..."

"Which I'll greedily accept -- but we need to do the other thing, too, in order to put a BUNCH of people in their places. I'll be by about six."

"I'll be ready. Love you!" 'Oops! It slipped out!'

"I love you, too, Babe. Bye! Don't forget poor Dwayne!"

Mary turned around to discover, belatedly, that her mother hadn't gone elsewhere in the interim. "So, the Graham charm is on, full force!" Kimberley simpered. "Don't you think it's a bit early for the 'L' word? You could be on your way to the trash bin!"

"Well, I've exceeded the usual shelf-life of Rob's girlfriends by about a week, and I met his mother last night..." Mary replied. The contents of that meeting were something best swept under the rug, but...

"Oh? Anything else you want to tell me? When did you leave Rob's?"

Mary's sister had accidentally selected the wrong girlfriend when generating Mary's alibi; things had already been unraveling, but now there was nothing left but to own up. "A little while ago."

"What did Rob's folks think of that?"

"Well, his mother wasn't thrilled, but apparently a lot goes on that she doesn't like, and the reason why is because she's kind of two-faced. Rob's Dad..."

"... Is a known Lothario. I'm aware."

"Well, apparently, that's because Rob's mother is all show," Mary replied. "She's only there for appearances and a meal ticket. Rob can't quite figure how he ever managed to be born, and having met her, I can't either."

"Back to YOU!" Kimberley pressed. "How long do you figure Rob is going to hang onto YOU before he dumps you?"

"Well, there's never any certainty, but I'm angling for something permanent."

"Like Claudette Pinkersley had?" Kimberley scoffed. "How many girls did Rob do behind HER back? It's a wonder she didn't catch something from him..."

"Actually, Mom, it would have been surprising if she HAD, since she never slept with him! Claudette is also big on appearances -- that's why he slept around, and that's why she lost him. All she wanted was to be able to say, 'I'm Rob Graham's girl'!"

"And you? Are you for sleeping with, or being seen with?" Kimberley pressed.

"I manage to combine those functions," Mary replied loftily, "And THAT is how I'm going to keep him!"

"Right," her mother scoffed. "When are you going to be seen in public again?"

"Tonight," Mary replied. "Rob wants to go to the movies. We'll probably hit Gino's on the way home. Sex isn't on the official agenda."

"And the unofficial agenda?"

"I like it. He likes it. We'll see." Mary looked at her watch. "Rob asked me to do a little something to expedite a matchmaking project I started a couple of days ago. Can I go ahead with that?"

"What does it entail?"

"Making a phone call."

"Oh, go on, then -- but don't be any too sure you're going anywhere tonight! I should ground you for what I KNOW you did!" Kimberley growled.

"Mom! Jeez! I'm eighteen!"

"Do you want to be eighteen and pregnant?"

"I'm on the Pill!"

"Honey, Rob's got to convince me that you're not just the latest member of Bang Nation before I can get happy about all this! Otherwise, it's risky business!"

"Yes, Mom." Time to back off.

"Besides, you lied to me!"

There was no answer for that. Mary gave an embarrassed shrug, and Kimberley waved her away. "Go take care of your business."

"Yes, Mom." Sighing, Mary dialed Louise's number.

Helene answered the phone, "Bryant residence."

"Hi, Miz Bryant, is Louise home?" Mary asked brightly.

"Yes," Helene grunted, disappointed that it wasn't Dwayne, "Who is this?"

"Mary Eikenberry, a friend from school."

"Louise!" Helene screeched, "There's a Mary Berry something on the phone!

"Hello?" Louise said faintly, taking the phone.

"Mom's on the warpath, huh?" Mary asked. "It's me, Mary Eikenberry."

"Oh, Hi, Mary! What's up?"

"Well, I'm acting as a go-between. Dwayne told Rob that your mother ranted and raved at him and that he couldn't get to you."

"Oh. Yeah, that's true," Louise murmured, glancing around for her mother.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna give you Dwayne's number so you can call him, and if you need me I'll alibi you for the movies tonight, okay?"

"Great! Thanks a million!" Louise enthused.

"Okay, here's my number," Mary rattled it off, "and here's Dwayne's." A second string of numbers followed. "Call him up and get organized, and call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Great!" Louise agreed happily. "I may need you to ask..."

"No problem. You two agree on the show and the time and let me know, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Good luck!"

"Thanks!" Louise hung up, glanced around again, and dialed Dwayne.

"Hullo?"

"Hi."

"Louise?"

"Yes."

"Is your mother around?"

"Yeah, somewhere," Louise sighed, adding, "I have to be careful."

"I can see that!" Dwayne rasped. "She almost took my ear off? Did you tell her anything? She seemed to think we were having sex."

"No, that's just the standard reaction. She's real suspicious," Louise related.

"No shit. Okay, so, did you look at the movie schedule?"

"Yes."

"What do you want to see?"

"I dunno, whatever you do, I guess."

Dwayne rolled his eyes. "How did I know you were going to say that? All right, how about..." He named a current science fiction thriller.

"Okay."

"Do you like sci-fi?"

"Some."

Dwayne scratched his head; she'd gone limp again -- but she was good at it and he was hampered by the phone. "Do you like anything else out there better?"

"No." There was a romantic comedy on the list, but you didn't make a guy go to a chick flick if you wanted to keep him, did you?

Dwayne wasn't buying. "What about..." He named the chick flick. "We could go to that."

"Okay, if you want to," Louise answered carefully.

Dwayne sighed. "Tell your mother that we're going to that one, anyway. Maybe we'll make the final call at the theater. Okay?"

"Yes, D--"

"Don't DO that!" Dwayne yelled.

"Yes-- Okay."

"Okay, how are we gonna do this?" Dwayne asked.

"I'll call Mary and finalize things, then walk over to her house. It's only a couple of blocks toward Thames Street..."

Something in Louise's voice didn't sound right. "It isn't, really, is it?"

"No," Louise agreed.

"Okay, so I'm picking you up two blocks over, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at six-fifteen for the six-forty show. Okay?"

"Okay!"

"See you then -- or call me if it crashes!"

"Okay!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!" Louise dialed Mary back. "We're either going to..." the sci-fi flick, "or" the chick flick.

"Either or?" Mary asked.

"Well, I don't want to..." Louise started.

"... Stand on your own two feet?" Mary finished. "Dwayne's giving you ground and trying to be nice to you. Don't go all floppy on him!"

"Well, okay. For our purposes, it'll be..."

"I know which one!" Mary cut her off. "Go prime your Mom and hand her the phone. I'll wait."

"Mom, Mary's asked me to go to the movies with her tonight," Louise announced.

Helene felt that it was her job to be suspicious. "Who's this Mary, and why has she cropped up all of a sudden?" Louise had a tough time keeping friends -- and Helene was a good bit of the reason.

"She's a friend from school. We have a couple of classes together and went to the basketball game together."

"Hmph. Isn't that where you met that boy? I'll want to talk to her."

"She's on the phone."

"Hullo. This is Louise's mother. Where are you going?"

"To the Cineplex," Mary replied carefully. "We'll be seeing a movie that starts at six-forty."

"Are you inviting any boys along?"

"We're going to see," Mary filled in the chick flick's title. "What do you think?"

"Don't get smart with me!"

"Sorry!"

"All right. Don't do anything stupid, and have her home at a decent hour!"

"Okay. We were looking at going for burgers after -- is eleven okay?"

"It'll have to do." Helene handed Louise the phone. "If you screw this one up, there won't be a repeat, understand?"

"Yes, Mom."

Helene stormed off. She was certain that Louise would be exposed to SOMETHING unwholesome during the evening, but she WAS eighteen. Sooner or later she'd have to do these things on her own. Why couldn't she meet a NICE boy at church?

(Of course, Helene killed all of THOSE contacts, too...)

"Okay, I guess we're set," Louise told Mary.

"Call me if you need coverage for something specific," Mary warned. "Your Mom's a BITCH! I feel sorry for you! I got you covered for burgers after -- you're good to eleven."

"Thanks, Mary. I owe you BIG time!"

"I'm glad to help -- you need it! Be good, now, and try not to let Dwayne into your panties tonight -- it's better if they suffer a bit, first."

"Gee, when, then?"

"The third time's the charm. You can give him good reason to look forward to it, though... Let his hands roam a bit more -- maybe get a feel of it, you know?" Mary looked around; HER mother might take exception to discussions of cocks... "His cock?"

"Oh! Okay!"

"That's not an instruction, Louise. That's, like, if you feel like it. You need to decide these things for yourself. If it seems like a good idea, go for it; if not, don't. Are you on the Pill?"

"Gawd, no! Mom would FREAK!" Belatedly, Louise glanced around to see if the outburst brought a reaction.

"Well, then rubbers are ABSOLUTELY REQUIRED! Unless you want to be pregnant! If you draw NO OTHER LINE with Dwayne, he has to know THAT!"

Louise sighed. "I hear they suck."

"They don't improve things, that's a fact. And, look, you're gonna get urges, and with you, one of them might be the idea that if you got preggers, it'd tie Dwayne down. That's DUMB! That kind of thing doesn't happen any more, and with your Mom, you'll find yourself out on the street! If you want to ride bareback, you're going to have to get contraception! Understand?"

"Yeah." Louise's sigh said a number of things.

"Look, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Cool! You can go to the doctor on your own, then!"

"That costs money."

"So do lots of things." Mary giggled. "If Dwayne wants to ride bareback bad enough, it'll surface..."

"You're kidding!"

"Well, who benefits?" Mary chided. "I gotta go -- keep me informed!"

"Okay, bye!"

"What costs money?" Helene's voice sounded behind Louise.

Louise jumped a foot! Thinking fast, she responded, "Theater food."

That defused things. Helene started ranting and raving about paying ten dollars for popcorn and a soda, eliciting a promise from Louise that she wouldn't waste her money on such things, and the threat dissipated.

Howard Silverman stuck his head through the door. "I'm going to go get something to eat -- can I get you anything?"

"Where are you going?" The phones were quiet -- Caitlin's usual excuse that things were too busy wouldn't work -- but then Caitlin remembered a recent discussion with her daughter. Howard was balding, and his nose was a little long, but she'd let worse pick her up in bars...

Howard met her regard with a look of surprise. Caitlin was looking at him! Usually, she just hunched her shoulders and mumbled about how busy she was, handed him a few bucks, and dismissed him. Today, that look... "Pizza, maybe?" Caitlin liked pizza...

Caitlin registered the surprise -- and a couple of other things, in flashes. Hope? Fear? She made up her mind. "Phones are dead. Maybe I'll go along, if you don't mind..."

Howard's eyes popped, his throat constricted, and he gasped quietly. "Mind? No, no, not at all!"

Caitlin eyed him. It seemed like fourteen expressions had flickered across his face. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely!" Howard looked down at his hands. Were they shaking? God, he was going to sweat like a pig! "Do you want your coat?"

He was already reaching for it... "I don't know -- do you think it's cold?"

"No telling -- I haven't been out since noon." Howard stood there, holding the thing.

"Well, since you have it..."

Howard pushed it toward her limply, then turned away. "I'll get my hat." Caitlin watched him head back toward Accounting, almost running into things as he staggered up the hallway. Was he really that clumsy? No, she knew better... What was up with him?

Howard was bemused. Lightning had struck! Caitlin was in his top five for fantasy women, and she'd just up and invited herself along on what COULD be loosely described as a date! Unbelievable! Well, okay, that might sound odd, but the fact was that Howard didn't HAVE to be in the office on a Saturday -- he was an accountant, and they only worked nine to five during the week. But the closest that Howard came to a social life was at work and temple -- and he HATED going to temple, where all of those hook-nosed spinsters and their mothers salivated over him because he was an accountant. It was... repellant. If a woman was still out there at his age, beauty didn't enter into it -- and the attitude that went with it -- like he was a prize calf at the meat market -- made him shun THAT particular pool.

Work, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. For one thing, most of the women there weren't Jewish; for another, at work, he was apparently part of the wallpaper. Why he preferred those dismal prospects was beyond him, but there it was... The pool changed regularly, as customer support and telemarketing, right next door to the accounting department, had heavy turnover. But Howard had poor skills (none, actually); he couldn't understand why a woman would avoid an honest, quiet man and fall into the arms of some boisterous loudmouth with a slimy line -- but it happened all the time...

So, there were a couple of executive secretaries, the one girl in shipping (despite her hulking size), the new girl in the back (whose star was waning already -- she was just TOO blonde...), and Caitlin. Basically, Howard rotated through them about once a week, getting up the guts to offer his services in some innocuous task and hoping.

Somewhere in all this ramble, he collected his hat and returned to Caitlin. "Ready?"

"Sure." He waved his arm and Caitlin preceded him toward the door, wondering why he was acting so odd -- wasn't this sort of what he wanted? Then she remembered Erin's comment about how smart guys don't always know what they're supposed to do... She added a little wiggle to her step, and Howard, picking it up, admired it. The pants she had on were thin, cottony, and they picked up the jiggle of what might objectively be a bit of a saggy ass and transmitted it as an item of interest.

Outside, Howard directed her toward a relatively new BMW -- a surprise, since she'd basically figured he drove an old Ford or something. There were some papers and stuff in the front seat, but he dispensed with them quickly, helped her in and surprised her by closing the door. Caitlin buckled herself in, remembering Erin's comment about how smart guy did things without expecting any return...

Things were quiet on the way to the pizza joint; Howard couldn't think of a thing to say, and Caitlin was watching him drive. The guy behind the wheel wasn't the Howard she knew; somehow, he was shifting the car with little levers on the steering wheel while sweeping the car in and out of holes in the traffic in a manner that could only be described as competent and aggressive. Caitlin began to wonder how Howard acted when he was in his element -- whatever that was... They got to the joint and parked, and there was some confusion as Howard appeared at her door just as she was opening it; Caitlin just wasn't used to the trappings of chivalry. But she smiled, and said, "Thank you," and Howard smiled back.

Inside, Howard dealt with the waiter, ordering her favorites from memories generated by dozens of trips for take-out, insisting on anchovies, "I don't care for them, but I know that you do..." Caitlin took issue with the idea that he should ruin his pizza for her and got them on the side, wondering whether he'd been picking anchovies off his half of take-out pizza for the past three years...

They managed shop talk during the meal, most of it consisting of Caitlin ranting about having to train a succession of idiots how to handle customer service calls. Howard sat and beamed and laughed and seemed to get over his nervousness, to an extent. Prodding him to relate issues with his job hit a brick wall, though. "Nothing I do is that terribly exciting, in first person. It's just juggling numbers. If I save the company a hundred thousand dollars a quarter, it just means that I keep my job..."

"Don't people drive you nuts, sometimes?" Caitlin asked.

"Managers do. They'll spend ten thousand dollars to go to a seminar on how to save five dollars on office supplies. I work closely with the CIO, because he has problems quantifying the business benefit of IT improvements," Howard grinned. "If I didn't, we'd all be using adding machines -- management around here is hopeless!"

"They sure are!" Caitlin related a couple of cautionary tales, and it was time to go. There was a tussle over the check, but when Caitlin realized how important it was to Howard, she gave up and let him pay.

Caitlin waited until they were in the car on the way back before she asked the question, "Howard, why on Earth do you work weekends? I know you don't have to..."

Howard blanched. "Nothing better to do," he mumbled.

"Oh, there must be SOMETHING," Caitlin rejoined. "I haven't been very nice to you, have I? Yet you still come around every few days, and offer to get lunch, or to help with something..."

"Have I been too forward?" Howard asked abruptly.

Caitlin watched him cringe, obviously castigating himself for going wide open. "Nooo," she murmured thoughtfully, "Maybe not enough..."