by Luke Young
As they crossed the state line into Florida, Rob said, “And no thinking about Natalie. You are missing the prime get laid time in your life by waiting for her, only because she can do that thing with her leg over her head. It’s stupid. You’ll look back in a few years on all the opportunities you missed and hit yourself in the nuts over it.”
Brian shook his head, slightly offended. “It’s not stupid. The leg thing is really awesome, dude. Have you pictured in your mind what she’d look like doing that… completely naked? She can hold her leg up there for like thirty minutes.” Brian glanced at Rob.
Rob scoffed. “Dude, you need help.”
“Seriously, you’ve never thought about it?” Brian turned and stared out the window with his eyes glazing over, mumbling, “Wow… her body and that, uh… I mean, she’s so…” He exhaled loudly and a peculiar groan escaped from his lips.
“Okay, that was creepy.” Rob’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Yeah, she’s really flexible, and that could have its advantages in certain areas, but if your thing never gets anywhere near the leg thing, then you’re just some douchebag who wasted his best college years pining away over some female version of Gumby.”
After sighing, Brian rubbed his chin. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
11
As they pulled into the driveway, Brian’s eyes lit up. The house was a huge stucco mansion with a palm tree-lined driveway and beautiful landscaping. They arrived just after four in the afternoon and were a few hours early. The front of the house featured a huge two-story archway that led to double-beveled glass front doors, accented with a large fanlight that stretched nearly to the top of the arch. Large travertine tiles adorned the foyer, and the rest of the house featured 10-foot ceilings, 8-foot doors, large moldings, and built-ins. He thought it must be at least three or four times the size of his family’s modest 2,000-square-foot home.
Awestruck, Brian walked through the foyer, toward the kitchen, as Rob tossed his duffle bag carelessly on the wide-planked dark hardwood floors of the great room. Rob called for his mother, and when she didn’t answer, he directed Brian through the patio doors for a look at the pool and tennis court while he went upstairs to find her.
Brian walked out to the backyard. The pool was large and free form in shape, with lagoon-like landscaping and detailed hardscaping. Big, comfortable-looking lounge chairs dotted the patio area, which also featured an outdoor kitchen with a fireplace. To the right of the pool, Brian spotted the tennis court. Smiling, he headed that way.
As he got closer, Brian stopped in his tracks at the sight of a woman lying face down on one of the lounge chairs. He stood speechless while taking in the scene. She wore a white micro-bikini bottom that must have only provided about four inches of coverage at its widest point, near the top of her perfectly shaped rear end. Lower down, the suit’s coverage quickly dwindled to nearly nothing. The woman’s skin was evenly tanned—not dark and leathery, but lusciously golden. Her dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders. Brian’s eyes took one more trip down her supple body, lingering briefly along her trim waist and long, toned legs. Then, as her arm slipped off the chaise to the patio, he noticed the sides of her breasts were showing just enough to reveal that her top was probably just as skimpy as her bikini bottom.
His first thought was that this was Rob’s girlfriend, but he remembered that she was supposed to be a blonde. Then he figured she must be Rob’s sister, although he couldn’t remember him ever mentioning he had one. After staring at the woman for about thirty seconds, he said, “Sorry to bother you. I’m Brian.” When she didn’t move, he noticed the wires leading up to the woman’s ears and realized she must be listening to music. Rob came up quietly behind him and stood there shaking his head with disapproval.
“Jesus, Mom,” he said loudly.
Rising quickly, Jillian looked a little frightened. When she turned her head, she found Rob standing there with an angry look on his face. Smiling, Jillian pushed herself up, turned on her side, stood, and rushed over to hug her son. Brian’s guess about the modesty of the bikini top was right on the money, and Rob’s face seemingly confirmed it. Brian tore his eyes away from her chest to avoid being rude and to see if her face was worthy of that body. He found that it was more than worthy. Jillian looked young; she was in her late thirties or early forties, he thought, worst case, forty-two.
Rob asked, “What the hell are you wearing?”
Jillian ignored the question as she grabbed hold of him and squeezed tightly while he reciprocated halfheartedly. Brian looked on, amazed. This was not your average mother of a college-aged son, he thought. For some reason, he pictured his mother wearing Jillian’s tiny bikini, but he quickly shook off the image. His mother’s bikini days were well behind her.
“You look good,” she said. “Looks like you’re eating.”
“Is that one of Victoria’s bikinis?” Rob asked with a sneer.
Jillian glanced down, cringed then folded her arms quickly over her chest. Then she turned to retrieve a large beach towel from the chair. She wrapped it around her shoulders so it draped over her breasts and the tiny bikini bottom front. “Sorry. I forgot I had on my tanning suit. Oh, and it is one of Victoria’s. It’s too conservative for her now, if you can believe that.”
Rob said, “Mom, this is Brian Nash. Brian, this is my mother, Jillian Grayson.”
Looking at Brian, she smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you. We’re glad to have you here.”
Brian replied, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Grayson. Your house is incredible.”
“Thank you. Please, call me Jillian.”
Rob mumbled something which sounded a lot like, “Please cover up.” Obviously, his mother was wearing way too little for his taste and the towel was only working to shield the front of her.
“What’s that?” Jillian asked.
Turning away, Rob waved his hand dismissively at her.
Rolling her eyes at her son, she turned away from them both, which re-exposed her shapely backside to Brian. Then she removed the towel and wrapped a sheer sarong around her bikini bottom. Brian’s jaw dropped. She draped the towel around her shoulders and turned back toward them, fully covered. Brian shot Rob an evil look.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“About four,” Rob replied.
“You guys are really early. I didn’t expect to be greeting you wearing this. As I said, this is my not-so-family-friendly suit.” Jillian gave them a smile.
“I like the bikini,” Brian said, casually, as he looked back toward the tennis court and began walking toward it.
“Thanks,” she said as she turned to follow his gaze.
As he approached the court, Brian said, “You’ve got Decoturf.”
She trailed after him, and they stood at the entrance to the court. Rob walked over to join them.
Brian looked at her. “Did you put this in or was it here when you bought the house?”
“I put it in,” she replied. “How’d you know it’s called Decoturf?”
“It’s what they play on at the Open,” Brian replied as he knelt down to touch it.
“That’s one of the reasons I chose it.”
“What else did you consider?”
Jillian smiled at Brian as he remained on the ground, touching it and looking back up at her. She said, “It was between the Har-tru and this.”
Standing, Brian looked over the court, nodding. “You definitely made the right choice.”
Rob groaned loudly then turned to look toward the pool.
She said, “I was worried about the fact that it might be harder on your knees.”
Brian said, “From what I’ve read, I think the only advantage of the Har-tru surface over the Decoturf is that it dries a little faster when it rains. Both provide the player equal cushioning, but the Decoturf wins, hands-down, with its truer bounce and surer footing.”
Jillian gazed at Brian, seemingly captivated by his court surface analysis. Rob turned back
toward them gape-mouthed and shaking his head.
“What do you think of the color? I went with the spring green on the inner and the Olympic blue on the outer.”
Rob breathed in deeply. “Excuse me, guys, but I’m going to go in, turn on the gas, wait five minutes, and then light a match.”
Neither Jillian nor Brian looked Rob’s way.
“All right,” Brian said, absently toward Rob and looked Jillian in the eye. “I think it looks great, and there’s just enough contrast between the blue and the lines, to make it easier to call those baseline shots. Yet the blue’s not so overpowering, you know?”
“I think you’re right,” Jillian replied.
As his mother and best friend continued discussing their shared interest with even more intensity, Rob sighed. Heading toward the house, he raked his hands through his hair and mumbled under his breath.
12
Jillian prepared steaks and baked potatoes on the grill and added a salad for dinner, which she and the guys ate at the outdoor table. She had a glass of wine, and Brian and Rob drank beer. Luckily, for Rob, there was no talk of tennis surfaces at dinner, that subject was exhausted ad nauseam for at least twenty more minutes after he left the tennis-obsessed nerds alone on the court. However, there was a discussion of the current state of men’s and women’s tennis; and how neither Jillian nor Brian cared very much for the Williams sisters. They also discussed how, on the men’s side, the U.S. players had been such a disappointment during the last decade with no dominant champions. Rob sat through it all looking bored while the two of them eagerly exchanged opinions.
Jillian noticed the look on her son’s face. “That’s probably enough tennis chat for the night. Brian do you have a job lined up after graduation?”
“I do, actually. It’s with America Bank at their headquarters in Delaware. I interned there last summer, and they offered me a position in their management program.”
“That sounds like a good opportunity,” she said.
“It’s not my dream job, but the job market stinks right now,” Brian replied. “Rob tells me you’re a writer.”
“Mostly romance novels. Somehow, they sell really well. Thankfully, I have a large group of loyal readers.”
Rob said, “Women love her books. Once, I tried reading one and couldn’t make it through. No offense, Mom.”
She waved him off as if she agreed.
Jillian looked at Brian. “Rob told me he’ll be with Laura for part of the week. So even when Rob’s not here, feel free to use the pool and the workout room, and eat whatever food you want. Make yourself at home.”
“I appreciate that.”
Rob said, “I spoke to Laura—I think the three of us are going out tomorrow night.”
“I usually wake up early, Brian,” Jillian said. “So, I’ll try to keep it down in the morning, if you’re a light sleeper.”
Rob scoffed. “He’s not a light sleeper at all. He’s the heaviest sleeper on the planet.”
Brian said, “Noise doesn’t bother me at all. I have to set my alarm to the loudest volume for it to wake me.”
“His alarm wakes up the entire building,” Rob said with a grin.
“I turn it off quickly, so it’s not that bad. Besides, I only have an early class one day a week, so most days I wake up before it goes off anyway. But I never get up before eleven otherwise. My eyes just don’t open.”
Rob began, “Once he was dating this girl—”
“She doesn’t need to hear about that,” Brian interrupted, shaking his head.
Rob added, “She was trying to wake him up and tried all the normal stuff, you know, but nothing would work. So she finally sat on top of him and bounced up and down. We all watched. It was hilarious. And he still didn’t get up. Wait… I have a picture.”
Pulling out his phone, Rob began searching. Brian said, “She doesn’t want to see that.”
“I do,” Jillian said smiling.
Rob handed Jillian the phone. She looked at the picture and laughed.
“Wow, that didn’t wake you up? She’s a big girl. How tall is she?” she asked as she handed back the phone.
“She’s five-eleven and on the volleyball team,” Brian said. “I remember, that night I couldn’t sleep so I took Tylenol PM. When I do that, I’m out cold.”
“I have trouble falling asleep, too, but sometimes an Ambien helps. But no matter what time I go to bed, I get up about six hours later. I wish I could sleep late. You still dating the volleyball girl?” Jillian asked.
“No, I’m kind of dating this girl, Natalie, sort of…” Brian said.
Sighing, Rob glared at him.
“What?”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about her.”
“She asked,” Brian said defensively.
“She really didn’t. She only asked about the tall girl,” Rob shot back.
Brian exhaled. “Would you rather we talk about tennis?”
“God, no! Tell her the whole story, then. Continue torturing yourself,” Rob added as he sat back in his chair and took a sip of beer.
Jillian looked at one and then the other. “Relationships can be hard work.”
Sitting up, Rob frowned. “Some are way more than others. This girl is messing with his head. He fell in love with her simply because she can do this ballet move where she keeps one leg on the ground and points the other toward the ceiling. She can hold it there for, like, an hour.”
“She’s really talented,” Brian announced proudly.
Shaking his head, Rob made a face.
Jillian smiled. “A ballet dancer, huh? I used to take gymnastics back in middle school. It’s similar, with the balancing and all. That sounds like a very advanced position.”
“You see,” Brian said, looking pointedly at Rob.
Rob sneered. “He’s obsessed with her, and she’s telling him to wait for her, while she’s running around with other guys.”
“I just want to give her a little more time because she asked me to wait, so—”
“Wait? Wait for what?”
Brian looked down at his plate for a moment, then back to Rob as he opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing.
After looking around uncomfortably, Jillian’s eyes brightened. “Let’s have dessert.”
She got up, went into the house, and returned a few minutes later with a small birthday cake with twenty-one lit candles. She placed it on the table in front of her son as he rubbed his forehead, fighting back a smile
“I know your birthday isn’t until tomorrow, and you didn’t want me making a big deal, but I figured you’d be with Laura, so…”
“Just no singing, okay?” Rob said before he blew out the candles.
“Happy birthday,” Jillian said with a proud smile.
“Happy birthday, dude. No more fake ID for you,” Brian said.
Jillian gave Brian a mock-angry look and then smiled. “Yeah, Brian, weren’t you the one corrupting my young son? You got him that ID when he was only a sophomore.”
“Mom, knock it off.”
“He said I got it?” Brian looked at her confused. “He got me mine. He’s the one with the connections.”
Raising her eyebrows, Jillian looked at Rob.
“So, I lied. I didn’t want you to think I was going crazy at college,” Rob explained sheepishly.
She said, “I’m scared to ask what other connections you had back then.”
“My connections? What about your connection—Victoria?”
Jillian shook her head as if she didn’t want to go there.
Brian sat on the edge of his seat. “What do you mean?”
Rob chimed in, “Victoria is my mother’s crazy friend. If you need anything, see her.”
Jillian laughed. “She’s not that crazy. She’s just…” She caught Rob making a face and added, “Okay, she’s a little fun—yeah fun is the word.”
Rob nodded. “I’ll say.”
“I forgot the plates,” Jillian sai
d. “I’ll be right back.”
As she headed toward the house, Rob picked up his beer, smiling. “Let me tell you a fun Victoria story…”
13
The next morning in the kitchen, Jillian prepared scrambled eggs while wearing a bikini under a beach cover-up. Rob entered the room, grabbed a banana from the bowl on the table and took a bottle of water.
“Happy birthday,” Jillian said smiling.
“Morning,” Rob replied.
“You want some eggs?”
“No, I’m late and I’ve got to meet Laura.”
“Is Brian coming down?”
“I doubt it. We were up ‘til three. This Natalie thing is not going away anytime soon. I don’t think he could sleep.”
“Oh, no.” Jillian frowned.
“He’ll be fine… well, maybe at some point.” Rob made a face. He peeled the banana, took a huge bite and mumbled with his mouth full, “I’ve got to run.”
After finishing her breakfast, Jillian headed upstairs to her bedroom and while passing the guestroom she glanced inside the partially opened door. She spotted Brian sleeping shirtless, lying on his side and facing her with a sheet draped low across his abdomen. That glimpse caused her to stop in her tracks and exhale deeply. Slowly she took a few steps back, tilting her head as she took another look at him. He was sleeping so peacefully, breathing slowly in and out. As her gaze traveled down his muscular shoulders and chiseled chest, her lips parted slightly.
Brian rolled onto his back, and as he did, his erection tented the sheets quite unmistakably. Jillian’s attention shot to the protruding area, and she gasped. She looked to his face and found he was still sleeping then she turned away and closed her eyes. Her mind went quickly to her unfinished novel, Lover’s Slumber, realizing she was in the midst of the perfect life imitating art moment. She imagined waltzing into the room, kneeling at his bedside and slowly pulling the sheet from him to uncover his sexy body just as Katrina had done to Dallas. Would he wake? What would happen then?
