by Lori Leger
John Michael entered his dad’s house without knocking, found the old man where he was most of the time—in his recliner watching the tube. “Hey Pop. I brought you some tomatoes from my greenhouse. I’ve got a bumper crop this year.”
His pop kicked down the footrest of his recliner and struggled to get out of his chair. He inspected the contents of the bag. “That’s some good looking tomatoes, right there. Bess will be happy. She’s been on my butt about eating healthier. Telling me I need to eat more fresh vegetables.”
“There’s nothing wrong with eating right, at any age.”
“No, I guess not. Only problem is, every time I see her she sends me home with a batch of fresh fig tarts, or some kind of pie to go along with her healthy advice.”
“But at least hers is good, right?”
“Yep.” J.D. rubbed his belly. “And you know how I feel about wasting good grub.”
John chuckled at his father’s comment as well as his accompanying cheesy grin. “Well, I know how you feel about wasting any grub—good or not.”
J.D. nodded. “I’d argue with you if I could figure out a way to prove you wrong. But, seein’ as I can’t, I guess I’ll keep quiet.”
John grinned and stuck a finger in his father’s chest. “Now, that would be nice for a change.”
J.D.’s chest rumbled with laughter. “Where you going all spiffed up?” He wagged his brows. “Or do I even need to ask anymore?”
“You shouldn’t, but you’ve never held your tongue before, have you old man?”
“You and Cynthia got a hot date?”
“We’re going to the movies and then dinner.”
“The movies again? After the last fiasco?”
“We’re trying a different theater tonight. They revamped the old Queen Cinema in Eunice. A co-worker of Cyn’s has been before, and says we’ll love it.”
“Well, try not to pick any fights or anything. I can’t make the drive to bail your butt out of jail anymore. Not yet, anyway.”
John snorted. “You sound as though you’ve done it before.”
“No. You spared me that indignity when so many others your age seemed to think it was a cool thing to do. What got me at the time was how their parents downplayed the incidents, like it was some kind of rite of passage.”
John Michael remembered those instances well. His most vivid memory, however, was his dad’s warning after some friend of his had done something stupid. J.D. had pulled him outside for a “talk”. It had consisted of one burly finger in his face and two sentences, each of them heavy with a thinly veiled threat. “Don’t even think about it, boy. I brought you into this world, and I can damn well take you out again.”
He’d believed him.
“Are you taking your sweet girl dancing again, tonight?”
His father made what he probably thought was a couple of smooth dance moves in his day, making John laugh. “Be careful, old man. You might break a hip with those moves.”
J.D. shot him a glare. “Your mom and I used to do a lot of dancing back in the day.”
“When dinosaurs roamed the earth?” He got a weathered finger wagged in his face for that one.
“Nobody likes a smart-ass, Johnny. I bet I could still teach you a thing or two.”
“About dancing?” John shook his head. “Hm. Doubtful, Pop.”
J.D. frowned. “Why is it you young kids always think old people have nothing to teach?”
“I don’t think that at all. I only said you can’t teach me anything new about dancing. Most of what I learned I picked up from watching you and Mom. Then Beth and I took lessons and we passed y’all up in moves.”
“Well, you’re never too old to learn.” His eyes lit up suddenly. “Last night I watched a documentary on one of those cable channels. It was all about some spot on a woman’s private parts—”
“Aw damn!” He raised one hand to stop him. “What have you been up to now?”
J.D. cocked his head and stuck one hand out. “Hold on, now. Let me finish.”
John gave his own face a one-handed swipe. “I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“Now this could be important to you, son. This particular spot—they call it a G-spot after some guy named Gutenberg I think, who discovered it was there—well, it sounds pretty important with women today.”
John Michael groaned. No way would the old man let up on this. His jaws were clamped into the subject matter pretty firmly, it seemed. “I think his name was Grafenberg, and he was a German gynecologist who did the studies on it in the 1950s.”
“Yeah, Grafenberg! He had a hell of a job, huh?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly his job, but rather something … never mind.” He may as well quit now. No way would he ever come out ahead in this matter. “Anyway, I have a sneaking suspicion it’s been important long before today.” He nearly laughed at the bewildered look his dad gave him.
“You think so? I’d never heard of it before.”
“Well, I did.”
“Really? Do you know how to find it? What to do with it?”
John stared at his dad, struggling to hold back the laughter. “I know where it is. Believe me. I’m good, Pop.”
J.D. leaned forward, spoke in a near reverent whisper. “They say it controls whether or not a woman reaches her peak—you know—during the act. It’s supposed to give them a deeper, stronger—”
“Stop! I know, Pop.” John covered his mouth with one hand to smother the guffaw threatening to explode any second. He cleared his throat loudly, somehow managing to control himself. “That’s what it does, all right.” He fidgeted under his father’s watchful stare.
“And you know about it already?”
John Michael could only manage a nod.
“Hmph.” J.D. gave him a look hovering somewhere between admiration and awe. “Maybe you should have given me the birds and the bees talk.” He shook his head. “There’s a disadvantage to coming of age before the sexual revolution.” He shrugged. “Of course, your mother never complained.”
John Michael placed a hand on his dad’s shoulder, praying for the right come back to put an abrupt end to this nightmare of a conversation. “Just because it didn’t have an official name doesn’t mean it wasn’t there all along. Maybe you found it, only you didn’t know it.”
J.D. seemed to ponder his comment and finally nodded. “Yep, must be it.”
John gave him a huge nod. “Yep, it must be. Later, Pop.” He spun on his heel, hitting the door before his old man found a way to expound further on the subject at hand.
It took barely ten minutes to get to Ms. Bess’s place.
His date for the evening pulled the door open before he could even knock, sounding a little breathless. “Come on in, John Michael. I’ll be ready in about two minutes.”
He gazed in appreciation at Cyn, who looked lovely in a sleeveless dress—what Beth used to call a sundress. It was the perfect choice for the first week in July. It hugged her waist and the neckline was cut low enough to give the barest hint of cleavage. The bright yellow color set off her green eyes. All in all, quite a becoming sight. “I don’t know what you could possibly do to improve what I see before me, but you go ahead. We have plenty of time.”
She gave him a sheepish smile and rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “You’re sweet, but I always feel a little self-conscious in sleeveless dresses. I need to work on my arms.”
“Honestly, Cyn. You look great. I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”
Bess entered the room. “I told her the same thing, Johnny. Maybe you can get her to see reason.”
“Hey, Ms. Bess.” John bent his long frame to give her a hug and then straightened. “Here you go.” He handed her a plastic bag. “I brought y’all some fresh tomatoes.”
“Oh, thank you! They’re beautiful.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ve had a good crop this summer.” He stopped to look down at her. “Do I have you to thank for Pop making an appointment with an
eye surgeon?”
Bess gave her head a brisk shake. “Actually, he got the card from a man he met at the Alzheimer’s group. The old coot wouldn’t listen to me.”
“But you’re the one who kept on him to find the group so you’re indirectly responsible. Regardless, I was thrilled to hear it. I’m hoping it’ll give him back his independence. Speaking of which, are you two scheduled to go visit Mom again anytime soon? He couldn’t stop talking about how glad she was to see you.”
She seemed to falter a bit before her smile lit up her face. “I told him I’d be glad to take him any time he needed me to. It was so good to see her.”
“Were you able to have an actual conversation with her, Ms. Bess? Was she lucid for long enough?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. She was her old self for a good hour or so. I left for coffee to give them some time alone and by the time I got back she was … gone again.”
He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Yes, ma’am. It’s rough on him. You don’t know how much it means to me having you there for him.”
Her eyes turned liquid and her smile faded. “I saw first-hand how difficult it is for him when she leaves him. But I felt so blessed to be there and to speak to my old friend, even for little while.”
John focused on Cyn as she re-entered the room, adjusting a short-sleeved, light green, lacey pullover she’d slipped over her dress. He could see it was light-weight, which was important in this heat. If it gave her an added boost of self-confidence, he didn’t have a problem with it.
Her negative self-image bothered him, though. He’d seen it so many times in couples he’d known. Cheating spouses did a hell of a job on the faithful one’s self-esteem. He hoped like hell Gene was in a position to see his wife enjoying the company of man who wouldn’t dream of hurting her by turning to another woman. What a dip shit.
He shook himself out of his musings and turned his attention back to Ms. Bess. “I went to see Mom a couple of days after you and Pop did. I guess I was hoping the sight of me would jog her memory.”
Bess stepped forward. “Oh, and did it?”
“No ma’am. I stopped by again this afternoon, hoping …” He shook his head. “She—she wasn’t—it wasn’t good.”
The silence grew thick and heavy in the room. Cyn placed her hand on his arm and finally spoke. “I’m sorry, John Michael.”
He nodded and took her hand. “You ready to hit the road?”
“I am.” She turned and gave her mother a hug. “Bye Mom. Don’t wait up for me.”
Bess patted her daughter on the back then waved her off. “Oh, I won’t. I trust Johnny to take good care of ma petite femme.”
Cyn turned to him, her eyes sparkling mysteriously. She gave him a look—a good combination of “He’d better” and “I know he will”. Her eyes darkened suddenly, heating him from the inside out. In that moment, he knew she trusted him every bit as much as her mother did, and it pleased him to no damned end. After what her ex had done to her, he’d damn sure keep it that way.
He led her to his truck and helped her up onto the seat, working hard to avoid staring at her cleavage, and was rewarded with a healthy glimpse of smooth, bare thigh as she slid across the leather to settle into the bucket seat. He closed her door and walked around to settle in behind the wheel. Within seconds, they were on their way.
“I forgot to tell you who I saw at the hospital.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Jordan and Lydia Brown from the theater in Lake Coburn.”
“No kidding. She had the baby?”
“Yes, a beautiful baby boy they named Jordan, Jr. He said he always wanted a son he could call J.J.”
John Michael grinned. “Good for them. Everything’s good with him? No health problems?”
“He’s a healthy little thing—nine and a half pounds.”
“That’s not so little. Poor Lydia.”
“Yep. He was born yesterday and I performed the circumcision today. And they’ve requested me as their pediatrician since their old one is retiring soon. It looks like I’ll have two new patients … J.J. and his older sister. So, no doubt I’ll be seeing the Browns on a somewhat regular basis. They said to tell you hello, by the way.”
He nodded. “That’s good to hear, Cyn.” The news had him thinking about the day Zachary was born, how excited his parents were to have a grandson. That, in turn, had him thinking about the visit with his mother today. Cyn’s voice sliced through his thoughts like a bass boat through the smooth surface of the Mermentau River.
“Do you want to talk about it, John Michael?”
He turned, realized he’d been lost in thought for a couple of minutes. “Talk about what, hon?”
“Your last visits with your mom, maybe? Were they bad?”
John nodded. “She never even acknowledged I was there for either visit. As a matter of fact, I doubt she knew she was there. It’s the worst I’ve seen her, Cyn. The doctor said it’s a sign she’s slipping into the next stage of the illness. From here on out, we may see her slightly lucid on occasion, or she may never come out of it. He couldn’t say for sure. Each person’s illness and symptoms proceed at a different pace.”
“Oh God. Has your dad seen her like that?”
“No, he hasn’t.” He swallowed, remembered well the overwhelming sense of hopelessness he’d felt as he’d stared down at his mother. “She just sat there, Cyn, a trickle of drool running down one side of her mouth. It’s like she’s slipped around a corner and disappeared from sight.” He slapped the steering wheeling lightly. “I got the distinct feeling that we won’t be seeing her, as herself, ever again.”
He blinked several times and reached across the console for her hand. She didn’t seem to mind. At a time like this he’d give his right nut for his old truck again. No console separating him and Cynthia, only one long bench seat so she could slide over and sit close to him for comfort. Too many damn consoles in this world, and they came in many different forms: smart phones, video games, television, computers, texting, social networking, and emails. All the ways technology had removed human touch, and other forms of human to human communication.
He released a long, low sigh and squeezed her hand tighter. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant … like the bubonic plague or something.” He spared a glance away from the road to catch her sad smile. “I’m okay. Really.” She nodded and he faced the road again wondering what to say to lift them from the suddenly dismal mood. He found himself smiling at the memory of his recent conversation with Pop.
“What are you grinning about over there?”
He faced her, deciding they’d reached a point in their relationship where it was safe to broach a particular subject matter. “My dad. It seems he’s watched a few talk shows and documentaries recently and has turned into this advice-doling-expert on the subject of sex.”
Her laughter rang out in the truck cab. “Seriously? Am I going to have to limit his contact with my mother?”
“When I was leaving to pick you up for our first date, he asked me if I had any condoms.” John held up his hand to stop her from commenting. “Even worse, I passed by his place on the way over here, and he starts telling me all about G-spots and their roles in a woman’s body.”
Laughter, riddled with snorts and giggles, both his and hers, filled the cab. It took a bit of earnest effort on both their parts, but they finally caught their breath after a minute.
“Oh my goodness!” she gasped. “I don’t think we should let those two go anywhere without adult supervision.”
“Oh, I think your mom’s safe enough with him. He admitted he’d never heard of the G-spot until he saw the program. I was forced to tell him I knew all about it. He seemed quite impressed because I knew where it was and what to do with it.”
She faced him, her eyes filled with new interest. “Oh, really.”
He gave her an enthusiastic nod. “I’ve attained rock star status in my father’s eyes.”
“Hmph.”
&n
bsp; John glanced over at Cyn. She turned toward the front wearing a sober expression. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Mm, maybe something along the lines of ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ … or rather, feel it.”
Feel it? More than a little shocked by her suggestive play on words, he couldn’t help but wonder how serious she was. The corners of her mouth twitched invitingly. Once again he found himself longing for a bench seat. It’d be so nice to have her tucked neatly into his side right about now. “You know, Cyn. Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, but that sounded an awful lot like a challenge.”
She faced him slowly, her mouth twisted in a one-sided grin. “What if it is?”
He pulled to a stop at the intersection of LA 26 and US 190, checked left and right and to the rear, verifying they were alone on the roadway. He turned to face her fully, his groin tightening suddenly at the look on her face.
“Well then, I’d have to say … challenge accepted.”
Her gaze narrowed slightly as she seemed to gauge his sincerity. Slowly, she offered her right hand. “It’s a deal, then. Too late to back out now, John Michael. I take my challenges very seriously.”
John Michael’s eyes darkened to a shade of even deeper blue, if it was possible. Her heart beat a rapid cadence in her chest as he reached for her hand. He took it in his own, softly stroked her palm with his thumb. Thankful she’d taken the time to apply her favorite scented lotion, she sucked in her breath as he bowed his head and kissed the surface above her knuckles. As if that wasn’t enough to get her juices flowing, he flipped her hand slowly and placed an even softer kiss on her open palm. As a bonus, he lifted his smoldering, sexy as hell gaze to meet hers, and winked.
Holy … How could one, sweet gesture turn this man into something simply irresistible?
She swallowed, tried to replenish the moisture suddenly sucked dry from her mouth and lips. “I, um, did the wink mean you were kidding? I’ve already told you, I take my challenges very seriously.” Not to mention I’m dying to see if you really know what to do with a G-spot; mine, in particular.
