Chapter Two



Kim took my hand.  I didn't offer it.  Didn't make an effort.  Didn't say anything.  It's just that when we got out of the truck and I clicked the keyfob to lock it, she appeared at my side and grabbed my hand like it was supposed to be that way.  Walking up the sidewalk as a couple, from all appearances, she knocked on her own door.

"Who is it?" came Jenny's voice from inside.

"It's me, Aunt Jenny," said Kim.  We heard the deadbolt unlock and the door opened.

"I brought Tim back with me, Aunt Jenny," she said.

"Yeah, I couldn't find the right dumpster to dump her dismembered body into," I said.

"Oh, I LIKE him!" said another voice, owned by a blonde sitting on the sofa.

"Uh, Tim, meet Laci, with an "I"," said Jenny.

"Hi, Laci," I said, trying to figure out where "lace" had anything to do with the female sitting on the sofa.  She was carrying the "butch" affectation a little further than I would have, but hey, I'm not "Lebanese", as Kim giggled it.  She was almost identical in height and weight to Jenny.  Okay, Jenny plus ten pounds, but well-distributed.  What my German friends called "zaftig", juicy.  Her hair was short, pageboy, no bangs, though, swept behind the ear on each side, and blonde.  A little darkness at the part told me there was some amount of augmentation involved.

"Sit for a while, Tim," Jenny said.  "Tell us about your evening."

I sat in a big overstuffed chair and was inwardly delighted that Kim sat on the arm of the chair beside me.  "I had a perfectly delightful evening of good food and conversation," I said.

Kim grinned.  "I tried linguine with clam sauce.  And, uh… tra…  tiramisu.  Oh, gosh.  Heaven.  My universe expanded."

Laci said, "Uh, yeah.  I've had that.  Eat like that too often, and more than your universe is gonna expand."  She slapped her own plump, rounded ass with an open hand.  It was a rather attractive ass, at that.

"Oh, I know, Mizz Laci, but I still swim four or five times a week, so I can pig out on tiramisu…"  Kim turned to me, looking down at me.  "So what time are you going look at cars tomorrow?"

I was caught just a little aback.  I hadn't exactly PLANNED on looking tomorrow, but what the heck?  "I think the dealer opens at nine.  I'm going to breakfast at eight-thirty, since I don't have groceries in the house yet.  That's the other task I have to perform tomorrow.  Why?  You lookin' for an adventure?"

Squeal.  "You don't mind?"

"Of course not.   If your Aunt Jenny says it's okay…"

"Fine with me," Jenny said.  "Most rapist-murderers don't make it past the first date, so I guess she's safe…"

"Be ready at eight thirty, then," I said.  "I'm gonna go home and get my first night's sleep in my new home."  I arose.  "And I enjoyed meeting all you good ladies.  Good evening."  I emphasized the formal angle, and left them giggling as I closed the door behind me and walked up the sidewalk to my own door.  And thought 'date'?

"Oh,crap," I thought.  "Forgot.  New bed."  I put fresh linens on a new bed, took a shower, shaved, and then dozed off, the last pleasant though being a soft, female hand taking mine.

The alarm woke me at eight, giving me plenty of time for me to wash my sleepy face, brush my teeth, and dress in jeans and a rugby shirt.  At precisely eight thirty I heard a knock on the door.  I felt like a schoolboy as I got up to answer it.  I opened it to see Kim, who was almost a female version of me.  A much YOUNGER female version, but jeans, rugby shirt, tennis shoes…  Her shirt was blue and yellow stripes.  Mine was red and blue.  And seeing my attire, she giggled.

"Can you come in for a second?" I asked.  "I need to print something."

"Sure," she said innocently.  She stepped inside, looking around.  "This is gonna be nice when you finish with it," she said.

"I AM finished with it," I quipped.

"Oh, no you haven't.  Don't make me come in here and straighten this place out."

"What makes you think that I perceive that at as a threat?"

"Men get all nervous when women want to invade their caves.  That's why men used to go out and capture women and bring them home for mates.  Established the hierarchy right off the bat."  She giggled again.  "Bat!  Hah! A pun!  No!  Wait!  Not a pun.  A simple play on words!"

"You're a horrible person," I said.  "Come see!"  I indicated the display on my laptop.  "Here's what I'm thinking about buying."  It was a Japanese SUV.  Silver.  Not gas mileage to scream about, but a heck of a lot better than a three-quarter ton pickup truck.  And a lot easier to get around town in.

"Grey?" she questioned.

"Yeah.  Silver, actually.  But grey's good enough.  Remember, nobody ever got a speeding ticket driving a grey Honda."

"Uh, that's not true," she said.

"Name one, then."

"You know I can't.  But that's not TRUE."

"I'm going for 'unobtrusive'."

"That'll get you waaaay off into unobtrusive, babe," she said.  And she rested her hand on my shoulder.  Lightly.  Then pulled it back.

"Is it acceptable to Miss Kim?" I asked.

"I think it's perfect.  I'd die for something like that."

"You're not holding out for something else?  A red convertible Mustang, maybe?"  I questioned.

"I never did get the idea behind convertibles.  1950, maybe, when there wasn't any air conditioning.  Especially in cars.  But NOW?"

"I dunno," I said.  "You'd look good…"

"For what, like SIX days a year when it's not too hot or too cold or raining?  No, thanks!"

"Okay.  Extra points for 'practical'," I said to myself. I printed the inventory page from the dealer's site, then another page from another site that showed actual selling prices. I looked at Kim.  "Now, let's go buy a car!"

We stopped off at a little restaurant for breakfast first.  Pancakes, eggs, sausage, toast.  And TWO cups of coffee.  Because I remembered that Kim said, "I LOVE coffee."  

Then we headed to the local dealer.  Properly armed, I, make that 'we', walked onto the dealer's lot and got grabbed by the archtypical car salesman.  Who didn't know who he was dealing with.  

"Can I ask what sort of car you're interested in, sir?" he said, smile plastered across his face.

"This SUV.  Here's your inventory number." I showed him the page I'd printed. "I want this one."

"Let me show you THIS one…" he said, gesturing grandly toward the one two steps up in size and dollars.

"Nope." I said.  "I got this off your website an hour ago.  THIS is what I want.  Like THAT one!" I pointed to a similar model.  "Except silver."

"Uh, yessir. Let me check with my manager."

"Check with who you need to.  I want THIS car."

Kim was giggling when he walked off.  "You've got him off balance," she said.

He came back.  "Yessir.  This car's on the back lot.  We're bringing it around."  In a few minutes and a donut apiece later, the proper car appeared.  Smarmy salesman tried to get back on track.  "Sir, you'll want a test drive?"

"Nope. It's just an SUV.  Steering wheel.  Pedals.  Automatic transmission.  It's not the space shuttle.  I don't need to drive it."

So he missed his test drive, replete with 'New car smell'.  Now he was eying my pickup truck and thinking he'd hit the lottery.  "And you're wanting to use that truck as a trade-in?"

I'm thinking, "Bud, if I trade THAT truck on this little SUV, you'll be writing ME a check."  So I told him, "Nope.  Cash down.  Fifty percent.  So tell me what your number is."

And so help me, the schmuck gave me sticker price less a hundred bucks.  I took Kim's hand.  "Come on, sweetie.  I guess we DO need to drive to Houston…"

"W-w-wait.  Lemme go talk to my manager.  I might be able to get you a deal," he stammered.

"Do what you gotta do.  But be advised.  I know what these things are going for.  In Houston.  And if you want to sell one today, you'll come up with THAT number, plus a tank of gas."

"Yessir."  Zip.  He was gone.  Five minutes, he was back.  And the number was within fifty bucks of what I'd wanted.

"How do you want to finance it?"  I could sense the wariness in his voice.  The kid learns fast.

"Fifty percent cash down.  Three years on the balance at zero percent."  I whipped out a drivers' license.  "Go run your numbers."

"Yessir.  Be right back."

Kim wrapped both her hands around my right bicep and leaned into me.  She didn't start giggling until he was around the corner.  "This is like a comedy sketch," she laughed.

And here he came again.  "I can't do zero percent, sir."  He gave me a GOOD number, but I'd told him I wanted zero.

This time Kim beat me to it, turning and heading to the door.  All I did was look at him.

"Okay…  Okay… Lemme…"

"Go see your manager, son."  I was probably fifteen years older than him, but one does have to establish one's hierarchies in negotiation.  "You DO want to sell this car today, right?"

"Uh, yessir.  Be right back."

Kim was fighting for control of herself.  

Here he came again.  "Okay, sir.  50% cash down.  Balance at zero percent for three years."  He pointed to the lending document.

"Great!" I said.  "See how easy this all is…"

"You're writing us a check?"

"Nope."  I handed the truck keys to Kim.  "Babe, in the glove box there's a blue vinyl zipper bag.  Can you bring it to us?"

Kim skipped away and returned.  I unzipped the bag and counted out a stack of hundred dollar bills.  "I'll want a receipt, you know…"

And half an hour later, the salesman was shaking hands.  Deal was done.  He showed us the features of the car, as required, and then I gave the keys to Kim and said, "Babe, can you drive this back to the house while I follow you in the truck?"

The smile on her face was irreproducible.  So was the squeal.

Fifteen minutes later, after following a VERY careful Kim as she drove home, I pulled beside her in the apartment parking.  She bounced out of the car.

"How'd it drive?" I asked.

"Uh… Let's see… It's an SUV.  Steering wheel.  Pedals.  Automatic transmission.  It's not the space shuttle."  Giggles.  "I thought I was gonna DIE when you said that.  But it drives nice…"

"Then get back in and drive us to the grocery store."

"Really?  I mean, it's YOUR new car."

I laughed.  "But it's not the space shuttle."  And I got in on the passenger side.  And new car smell is new car smell.  Even if it is a little Japanese SUV.

The grocery shopping was epic, not surprising when one considered that I was setting up a new household.  It took even longer as Kim and I put all my purchases away.  Mid-afternoon.  And one of the purchases was a freshly ground half-pound of coffee.  I brewed us up two mugs.

Sitting at the coffee table in my new living room, we toasted my new home, and sat, sipping, the TV providing background sound.

"So what's your music library look like?" she asked.

"Guess," I said.  "If I've got Boccherini in the truck…"  I pointed.  "The CD's are in that box, there.  And I've got those, and lots more, on this hard drive."

She opened the cardboard box and squealed.  "Look at this stuff!  Bach.  Beethoven.  Mozart, Schumann.  Wow. Handel.  We have to listen…"

"Do you have an iPod?" I asked.

"Noooo… Had one.  Got stolen.  One of Mom's "friends".  I haven't had the guts to ask Aunt Jenny."

"I have two.  One's yours.  If you don't mind it being a little older model."

Squeal!  And  hug.  And she backed off, almost like she'd realized that she was going too far.  "Tim…  you really don't have to do that."

"I know I don't HAVE to, Kim.  But I want to.  I don't need two.  And you'll like the music that's already on it."  I rummaged through a box of electronic stuff and came up with the one I intended to give her.  It still had a charge.  I found her a charger.  And a pair of ear buds.

She smiled so sweetly.  "Oh, Tim, NOW I've got music to listen to."  She was thumbing through the menus to review the playlists.

I watched, smiling.  I couldn't remember when I ever saw a bigger smile over a gift.  Yeah, I had a sister, and a niece and nephew from her and her husband, and I was the proverbial doting uncle since the divorce, distributing presents at birthdays and Christmas, and those kids were appreciative, but none glowed like Kim as she menued through that iPod.

And her cellphone rang.  She looked.  "It's Aunt Jenny," she said.  She answered the phone.  "Hi, Aunt Jenny."  Pause.  "Oh, yeah.  We went grocery shopping.  He needed EVERYTHING." Pause.  "Yeah.  New apartment and all that.  And he bought a new car."  She described it.  "He let ME drive it." Pause.  "Yeah.  ALL day!" Pause.  "And you should've seen that salesman!  I almost wet myself.  It was FUNNY!" 

Blue eyes flashed at me, and I KNOW that smile was intended…  Wait!  I'd known Kim for twenty-four hours… She was twenty four years my junior…  But that smile…

"Sure," she said into the phone.  "He's right here."  She pushed her cellphone toward me.  "Talk to Aunt Jenny."

I took the phone. "Hi, Jenny," I said.

"Well, hello, Tim Duncan.  You seem to have impressed our Kimberly."

"All we did was roam the roads running errands."  I felt defensive.

"You let her drive your new car?"

"Yeah, but how else was I gonna get it and my truck back from the dealership?  I could've let her drive the truck?"

"Nuh-uh.  I've seen your monster… uh… truck…"  Snicker.

"Uh… Jenny…"

"I know" she said.  "Sorry.  I get that way sometimes."  Brief pause.  "Now, why I called.  Uh…  I wanna kind of have an evening with Laci.  I hate to leave Kim by herself.  I know she's sixteen and all, but… well, can you check on her?"

"Sure.  You have a problem with us hanging out?"

"No.  I know where you live, remember? I don't think you'd do anything to hurt her."

"I wouldn't.  She said she'd help me put this place in order.  It's still a mess from moving in."

"Then you to do what you have to do.  Just make sure she's okay…  And she has my number if she needs anything.  Lemme talk to her."

I handed Kim back her phone.  "Hi, Aunt Jenny." Pause.  "Yeah.  I'll be good.  You an' Laci have a good time.  'kay?  Bye!"  She flicked her phone closed and smiled at me.

"We kinda took advantage of you, huh?" she said.  "Just assumed that you wanted to hang out with me while Aunt Jenny did her thing." Giggle.  And lascivious grin.  "And Laci's…"

"Uh, if your aunt knew what you said…."

"Oh, come on, Tim.  You know I'm just joking.  And they ARE two consenting adults.  And they've been friends for a long time.  Sometimes I think they'd be living together if I wasn't in the way."

"Uh, well…"

"Tim, people HAVE sex, you know…"

"I know…  but…"

"Of course I only know this second hand."  Her smile was communicative.  Unusually shy for the Kim I was becoming used to.

"Well you know how I feel about sex."

"Yeah, you told me.  And Aunt Jenny and Laci have been as constant, no MORE constant than a lot of straight couples.  And sex is not the center of their relationship."

I closed my eyes.  Sex.  I had repressed sex in my life.  Single guy.  I didn't do porn or titty bars.  I do admit to masturbation, but only because with me, masturbation relieved pressures that if left unattended, would result in very messy wet dreams.  

And now I was twenty four hours into a relationship with a sixteen year old girl and SHE was lecturing ME about sex.

"I understand, sweetie," I said.  "Sex looks easy.  Love is hard.  And sometimes people are together and one of them thinks it's just sex and the other thinks it's love, too.  And that's where people get hurt."

"I know," Kim said.  "I watched Mom.   I saw everything that you just said.  And when Mom went to jail and I moved in with Aunt Jenny I thought here it goes again, except it's all women.  But it hasn't been."  She took a deep breath.  Soliloquy mode.  "And kids are the most screwed up of all, because 99% of the boys are "it's just sex" and only half the girls are like that.  And I believe that some of THEM are thinking "love" inside and saying "sex" outside.  And they're all screwed up."  She looked at me.  "But I'm not like that."

"That's good, Kim.  You have to protect your own heart because there are darned few people who will protect it for you."

"How do you find that person, Tim?" she asked, her voice small.

"I don't know, Kim," I admitted.  "If I knew, I'd be living with her."

Kim smiled.  The way the conversation had been going, I didn't know why she smiled, but she smiled.  "Lighten up, Tim," she said.  "We're not going to solve this one any time soon."

I sighed.  "Okay, cutie.  So let's talk about Kim in school."  I was sitting in my recliner.  Kim was lounging on the sofa.

"I skipped the fourth and sixth grades.  I just took the ACT's and got 30.  I could be a 4.0 average if I did all my homework and stopped arguing with teachers.  Me an' the English teacher…  uh, make that the English teacher and I, have differences in opinion about symbolism in literature.   I tutor kids in math instead of doing study hall.  And if it wasn't for the attendance laws, I could sit at home right now for the rest of the year, take the finals, and graduate.  And I have a full academic scholarship at the state university here in town."

"And just a tiny bit of attitude?"

"I don't suffer fools gladly." She smirked.

"And the world is full of fools."  I said.  A thought crossed my mind.  I had a computer system waiting to be set up in the spare bedroom to make it into an office.  "Come give me a hand, Kim," I said.

"What're you gonna do?" she questioned.

"I want to set up a computer and printer and monitor and scanner in the spare bedroom."

"As long as this isn't some cheesy ploy to get me into your bedroom…" she smirked.

"YOU may look at it as a bedroom, but I look at it as an office.  And EVERYBODY'S not trying to get into a teenager's pants, babe."  I snorted.

"Yeah, but you still called me 'babe', though."

"It's a pet name.  I'd call a kitty-cat 'babe.'  So don't let your head swell.   I need extra hands to run these cables."

"You don't have to bust my bubble, Tim."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kim.  Seriously, if I was twenty years younger, I'd be harboring a whole different set of motives.  But I'm not, and I need somebody who'll pull one end of a cable."

"Pffffht!" she stuck her tongue out at me.  "At least you noticed…"

"What?  That you're a cutie?"  I was pulling my desktop computer out of its box, setting it on my desk.

"You never said anything…" She handed me the keyboard.

"I shouldn't have to say anything.  You know who you are."  I handed her the penpad.  "This goes beside the keyboard.  And this trackball."

"Yeah, just another brown-haired girl.  A little too tall for a lot of guys.  Too smart for the rest."

"Takes somebody special to appreciate 'too smart'," I said.  "I guess you tried playing dumb enough?"

"Oh, gosh, no…"  she snorted.  "I just can't.  I guess I tried, but it just wasn't ME!"

"Sometimes you have to make little concessions."  I shoved a cable towards her.  "Ethernet port."  I sort of expected "what's that?"  Instead I heard "Snick!" as it clicked into place.  I tossed her another cable.  "That big thing…"

"This?" she questioned.  "I don't know what this is."

"Large-format scanner.  Port's in the back."  And I heard "snick!" again.

"What else?" she asked.

"That should be it.  Now let's run power cords."  Power cords snaked around behind everything, coming back to a hefty surge suppressor.  Another five minutes.  "Now let's power it all up."

A few clicks and little lights were on all over the room.  She pulled the extra chair up as the computer and peripherals booted.  I showed off my toys to an interested young lady.  "This is what I do for a living," I said.  Since she seemed interested, I showed her pictures of past projects, friends, workers, big bits of equipment, control panels, other esoterica that is behind modern life.

I looked at the time.  "Uh… Kim, we've worked right through dinner."

She looked at the screen's time display.  "We sure did," she said.  "but it's Saturday night.  Things are still open…"

"Then pick something.  And I get to drive this time.  New car and all."

"Okay…" she smiled.  "But just remember, no matter whoever else gets in it, **I** was the first"  She paused.  "And being first counts for something…"  and another strange grin.

We were just buckling in when her phone rang.  She looked at the display.  "It's Aunt Jenny," she said.  Putting the phone to her ear, she said, "Hi, Aunt Jenny!"  Pause.  "No, we're just getting out for dinner." Pause.  "What'd we do all afternoon?  Just spent an hour in HIS bedroom hookin' up…" evil pause.  "his computer…"

"You're a bad girl," I said, shaking my head.

She stuck her tongue at me.  "No, seriously, he's got a real BIIIIG" another evil pause.  "desktop system."  Giggle.  "I'm not sure I know WHAT you're talking about."  Pause.  "No.  You're going WHERE?  Just a second."  Kim looked at me.  "Seafood?  They're going to Roscoe's.  Good seafood.  If you wanna meet ‘em."

"That'll work," I said.

""He said that's good.  We'll see you there in fifteen minutes.  Bye!"  The she looked at me grinning.  "What?"

"You… you're gonna get me mutilated with a Ginsu knife.  Jenny promised…"

"I didn't say anything.  Unless YOU have a dirty mind.  Apparently Aunt Jenny's got one…  So I let her imagination…"

"You're BAD!"

"Well, she said you were cute, and SHE'S a lesbian.  So I just teased her a little." Giggle.  Little girl voice.  "Do you forgive me?  Hmmmm?"

"Yeah, I forgive you.  I just hope I can outrun Jenny if she figures I'm molesting her niece."

"Oh, she knows you're not molesting me.  We're going to enjoy a meal with my aunt and her friend.  Nice people.  You'll see."  She reached over the console of the SUV and grabbed my hand in hers, interlacing our fingers.  "It'll be FUN!"
