Short Fuse
© 1992/2016 by K Pelle
Chapter 8
I don't think I actually blacked out, but instead it seemed as if my mind took a brief break to process the idea that Claire and her mother were both dead. For one thing I was still conscious of Arlene's gasp and I didn't even spill the cup of coffee I was holding in my hand. However, for a few seconds I lost track of what Detective Fairchild was saying. Then his voice paused and I seemed to awaken from my trance to see both Arlene and him staring at me intently.
"I'm sorry, detective. All I heard you say was that you thought Claire and her mother had both committed suicide," I said calmly. "After that, my mind seems to have gone completely blank for a moment. Would you mind repeating yourself?"
"I can certainly understand your astonishment," he said quietly. "I was trying to explain what we had discovered, but you have to realize that the investigation is incomplete. On top of that, I'm only going by the reports I've read that were sent in by people who had been at the scene."
I just nodded my head, admitting that I'd heard him and understood what he'd said.
"The investigating officer went to your mother-in-law's house on a complaint from a neighbour that a car motor had been running all night, so he found your wife first. She was sitting slumped behind the wheel of her mini van with all the doors locked and the motor running. According to his report the van was parked in an area which was hardly larger than the van itself so there was little or no ventilation. His initial report was that your wife must have died of asphyxiation from carbon monoxide poisoning."
I found myself staring at him in disbelief as he carried on with his explanation.
"While your wife was found in her van, the older woman was found sitting in a chair in the kitchen of the house with a knife on the floor near her hand. The officer saw the older woman through the window and noticed blood, so he broke into the home in an attempt to try to save her life. Up to the point he broke in, all the windows were tightly closed and the deadbolts were thrown on the doors. That means that no one entered from the outside as far as we can tell," He paused, then continued. "It seems that another detective who arrived on the scene somewhat later may have ignored that fact. Instead it appears he jumped to the conclusion that you had gone there to retaliate for your wife's actions in striking you earlier. He was trying to get a warrant sworn out for your arrest. Fortunately for you, wiser heads prevailed. If he had waited until the coroner had arrived on the scene he would have found that at the time of your wife's death, you were still under doctor's care in the hospital."
He paused again, then spoke very quietly, and his words shocked me.
"Actually further investigation into the times of death and the circumstances make it seem possible that the older woman may have murdered the younger one, then committed suicide."
"That doesn't make sense," I said quietly, shaking my head. "I might be able to understand if you had said that Claire had killed her mother and then herself, but I can't really see her mother killing Claire."
"Murder seldom makes sense," Detective Fairchild said softly. "Now, officially, all I've told you two is that the two women were found dead at the scene. The fact that it could be a possible double suicide or a murder/suicide situation is under investigation, but I didn't tell you that, either officially or unofficially, all right?"
"We understand Dick," Arlene answered and I nodded.
"There is one thing. Someone will have to come down to the morgue to identify both bodies," he said quietly.
"I can do that," I said quietly.
"Dave, is that a good idea?" Arlene asked immediately. "Couldn't you have your sister do that?"
"Michelle hasn't seen Claire's mother since the wedding, that's about fifteen years," I answered quietly. "I'm afraid that very few people have seen her lately because for the past few years she became quite a reclusive."
"You say she was reclusive?" Detective Fairchild asked.
"Oh yeah, very much so," I nodded. "At first, it was just that she didn't like men around her. Then, after a while, it got so she didn't like any women that she didn't know well near her either. I used to go over there once a week in the summer to cut the grass and weed the beds, but I always took either Shannon or Claire with me. That way they could talk to her and calm her down while I was in the yard."
"But how did she manage?" Arlene asked. "I mean, you have to go out of the house to shop or to get your hair done, things like that."
"Oh, she didn't have a problem with that. She ordered her groceries by telephone from one of the local stores. She ordered her clothes from a catalogue and she had Claire set up an account that allowed her to do her banking over the telephone. Of course Claire was always willing to run little errands for her too. I don't recall a time when she voluntarily left that house in the last five years."
"But what about garbage, things like that?" Arlene protested.
"That was one reason I had to go over there once a week, to take out the garbage. She'd pile it up in the back porch. I could go into the back porch to take it out to the garbage cans, but she really didn't like me to go inside at all. In the last while, she'd have Claire or Shannon set the garbage bags outside the door of the porch, then I was allowed to take it from the back step."
"What about doctors' appointments?"
"Oh, I forgot those. She'd only go once or twice a year and Claire would take her out then. However, let me tell you, it was a major operation. Getting her to go to the dentist was even worse," I just shook my head.
"But why didn't you . . .?" Arlene started to say and I held up my hand.
"Claire insisted that her mother was just fine and that it was just a passing phase. I couldn't see that having her hide away from the world was really harming anyone, so for the sake of domestic harmony, I didn't push the issue."
The detective was quietly shaking his head and Arlene was staring at me intently.
"Did either your wife or your mother-in-law ever give you any idea why she was so paranoid about contact with others?" He asked.
"Yeah. It seems that many years ago, just after Claire's father died, one of the men in the neighbourhood came over to fix a dripping faucet or something like that. It was just a minor repair of some sort. Anyway, he either did or said something that Mother Leech took umbrage to and caused her to fear him. I do know that the family still lives in the neighbourhood and that she was always afraid that they would do more."
"Do you know which of her neighbours it was?"
"Sorry, I never did get that straight. I don't think either Claire or Mother Leech ever told me exactly who it was or what the guy did. The subject was always skirted. They'd only mention it in the most general terms."
"You don't remember any of the specifics?" The detective asked. "Do you think Shannon might know something?"
"No, Detective, I'm afraid I don't think that would be very likely. I do know that if Shannon was in earshot and I brought the subject up, Claire would silence me," suddenly it dawned on me that he was wondering if somehow Claire and her mother had been murdered by someone from outside the house. "I thought you said the attending officer had to break in because the house was locked up from the inside?"
"I did. However during a murder investigation, I like to check all of the possibilities and research any abnormalities."
"Well, I'm afraid on this case there are more abnormalities than anything else," I said sharply. "I certainly wouldn't call either my wife or her mother normal and the situation sounds like one out of a Hitchcock film."
Arlene rolled her eyes, yet I knew she agreed with me. The frown that swept her face must have meant something else to Detective Fairchild. He proceeded to cut the interview short. Arlene and I set up a time later in the day when we would meet him at the morgue, then he left.
"How are you making out Dave?" Arlene asked quietly as she came back from walking the detective to his car.
"I think you might describe my condition as mild shock," I smiled at her. "On top of that, I'm sure the concussion must have affected my taste buds, that coffee tasted exceptionally good, even though it was instant."
"Well, considering that it's decaffeinated, I could make you another cup. Would you like that?"
"Yes, please. If I could, I'd like use your phone to call my family as well?"
"Go right ahead," she smiled. "I was wondering about that and don't you think you should call your insurance agent?"
"You mean about the house? I don't think I have his number."
"I was thinking about your wife's death. Didn't she have a life insurance policy? If she did, they should be notified."
"I'm not sure that I even care. After the things that she said in the last couple of days, I doubt if either Shannon or I would be listed as benefactors in her will."
The frown on her face deepened. "Do you really think she would have cut Shannon out of her will?"
"Yeah, I do," I said flatly. "At times Claire was an exceptionally vindictive person. In the mood she was in the other day, she might have done anything."
"Yes, but do you think she would have had time to change her will after the last blow up?" Arlene said as she handed a second cup of coffee. "Or do you think she might have done it previously?"
"Hmm, that's a question I suppose I should have someone answer, at least for Shannon's benefit."
"You don't care at all?"
"No, I don't!" I said flatly, but emphatically.
Not wanting to carry on the conversation at that moment, I picked up the telephone and dialled my sister.
"Hello. Gamble residence," my niece Sandra answered.
"Hi Sandra, could I talk to your mother please?"
"Hi Uncle Dave, I'll get her for you . . . and Uncle Dave, I am sorry."
I started to say, thank you and then realized she was already gone to get her mother. As I was waiting, I thought about my reaction. I found myself wondering if saying 'Thank you' in response to an expression of sorrow was the right thing to do. I didn't get a chance to worry about it though.
"Hey, Big Brother!" Michelle's voice came on the phone. "Don't you ever check your voice mail? I tried to leave you a message and it seems your mail box is full."
"Michelle, I haven't had a chance to do anything like that today, or yesterday either, for that matter. What did you want to tell me?"
"Oh, just that your insurance agent called me and wanted to know which hospital you were in. I didn't want to give him Arlene's phone number, so I told him that if you called, I'd have you call him."
"I don't suppose you took down his number?"
"Yeah, just a second,"
While she looked for it, I found that Arlene had put a pen and a notepad by my side. When I looked up at her to say, thank you, she grinned and winked at me. I didn't have a chance to say anything though, because Michelle was suddenly telling me the insurance agent's phone number, and then asking if I knew anything more about Claire and her mother. When I repeated to her what the cop had told me, she found it just as hard to believe as I had.
"Now if he'd said Claire had done in her mother, I could believe that. Especially after the way that Claire has been acting lately."
"Well, to be honest, while I was talking to the detective, I realized that Mrs. Leech wasn't any more stable than Claire," I said quietly. "I know I mentioned the fact that she didn't want to leave her house and how much of a problem that was."
"Yeah, I remember you mentioning it. Shannon has told me a few tales as well," Michelle agreed. "So what's going to happen with that anyway?"
"Well, I have to go down to the morgue and identify them. Then I don't know what's going on. Arlene suggested that I might check for a will."
"Yes, I think you should, even if it's just for Shannon's sake."
"I suppose," I sighed. "I can imagine it's going to be a fine kettle of fish. Claire told me yesterday that she was going to cut both Shannon and me out of her will, but as Arlene said, she might not have had time to do it yet. To be honest I hope she did get it changed, at least it would make life simpler."
"For you perhaps, but you should check to see if Shannon is inheriting anything."
"I suppose," I said in a noncommital tone. "Anyway, I'd better phone this insurance guy, and then check my voice mail."
"Okay, Dave. I'll see you in a day or two, but if you need help, just holler."
"Thanks, Sis. See Ya."
I hung up, then dialled the number Michelle had given me to talk to the insurance guy. It turned out that he was the adjuster who had investigated at my house. He had been trying to contact me for permission to have his people go in and clean up after the fire.
His main worry seemed to be about trying to salvage any of the papers that Claire had used to set the fire. I wasn't sure, but I thought she must have set it in my office. If she had, I certainly didn't want to lose anything valuable that could be salvaged. With that in mind, I insisted that I had to see for myself before any of his people could accidentally do more damage than had already been done. As I was talking to him, Arlene reminded me of our appointment with Detective Fairchild, so I arranged to meet the insurance adjuster at my house even later in the day.
Then I phoned home to get the messages on my answering machine. The first two messages were about my job at the University and weren't important, I simply made a few notes, then deleted the messages. The third message was from Claire.
Actually most of it wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. She ranted on about how poorly I had treated her since my family hadn't been willing to share the title of the home we lived in with her. She seemed to conveniently forget that I had inherited it from my father, prior to our marriage, or that the first time she saw it, she'd upset my family by wanting to sell it and buy a house nearer her mother. She also conveniently forgot that the prenuptial agreement had been done at my family's insistence, not mine.
She went off on the tangent about her idea that Michelle and I were turning Shannon into a whore and an instrument of the devil. Her rant went on and on, wandering from one point to another, then back again. She ranted about me, about Shannon, about Michelle, and even about my mother. Then she went into a rant about the doctor that she'd taken Shannon to see. After that she ranted about the way she felt she had been mistreated by the police at the doctor's office and by the detectives who had come to the house to interview to her and Shannon. It sounded as if in her mind, she felt the whole world was against her and that there was no way she could ever achieve satisfaction.
Just before she finished, she announced that she was leaving me, but that she was going to leave me a surprise. Her final words were that it might be an idea if I hurried home, so that I might have a final idea of how she felt about my 'stupid fucking house and everything that was in it. Then she laughed crazily as she hung up the phone.
I really wanted to delete the message, but I decided that Arlene and the police should hear it before I did, so I went on to the rest of the messages.
There were several messages from the insurance company who told me that they had been called by someone in the fire department. There were several calls from a reporter who must have been having a slow news day and another from a carpet cleaning company. I deleted each of those in turn after listening to them.
Finally there was one last message and it managed to chill me to the bone as I listened to it. It was from Mrs Leech, Claire's mother. In a whining tone that I recognized well, she began by berating me for the way I had mistreated her daughter. However inside of a few sentences, she had begun complaining about the fact that Claire now wanted to live with her. Her tone became angrier and more nasty.
She mentioned that she and Claire had argued about that. Then she said that she'd put her foot down about Claire bringing anything into the house. By now her voice had a tone that I felt was very strange. When she demanded that I come to get Claire and take her away, because she was making a mess in the carport, I realized that perhaps she could have murdered Claire. Her tone changed as she became more and more insistent that I should get Claire's stinky minivan away from her house. Now she seemed to be screaming at Claire, telling her to go away, begging her to shut off the van, so she could get some sleep.
Then it sounded like she set the phone down and went to the door. You could hear her voice in the distance as she called to Claire, asking her to forgive her and to come inside. After a few minutes she was back on the phone, begging me to help her and again imploring me to take Claire away. Her words became more stressed, even garbled, and for the final few minutes of the tape she was simply crying into the telephone.
When the message finished because it came to the end of the tape, I sat back feeling like I had just been kicked in the gut. I must have looked it too.
"Dave, what's wrong?" Arlene asked.
I knew that I was going to have to let the police hear the answering machine tape but I thought I should get Arlene's opinion first.
"I think you should listen to this, we might have to go over to the house and get the tape before we go to the police station," I said quietly.
"But why?"
"I think you should just listen," I said quietly and restarted the two undeleted messages before handing her the phone.
As soon as she started listening, I stood up and walked to the sliding door, stepping out onto the patio to get some fresh air. I was trying desperately to get my mind into a place where I could handle everything that had happened in the last two or three days. Somehow I suspected that it was going to get worse instead of better. Right then, I wanted a little peace and quiet.
I knew that when Arlene had heard the two messages she would come out and talk to me. Instead of staying near the house, I walked out across the lawn and stood looking at the flowers near the back of the garden. I could hear children playing, and somewhere nearby I could make out the sound of an electric lawnmower, yet where I was standing, the yard seemed so calm, so peaceful.
I heard Arlene sigh softly as if to warn me as she came close, then her hand was touching mine.
"You were right, I do think Dick Fairchild needs to hear that tape, but we can have him listen to it over the phone like I did. If he wants a copy, that's fine, but I think you should save the original."
"Why would I want to save that?"
"Because I don't think Shannon should hear it now, but one day when she's older, she might want to. I know I would."
"I'm not sure she should hear that."
"I agree with you now, but I think it should be up to her, only after she's older though. I'd save it and put it in a secure place. After she's eighteen, you can tell her you have it. If she wants to hear it then, I'd let her."
I just shrugged my shoulders, right then I didn't even want to think about anything like that. I know that somehow she caught on to my mood, so for the next while we wandered around the garden. She helped me to defuse my mood by talking about the flowers and plants.
Unfortunately for me, time passed quickly. Soon it was time for me to change clothes in order to get ready to go to the police station. Since I wasn't allowed to drive, Arlene drove me there in her car. Perhaps that was for the best. In the mood I was in, I don't know how I would have managed to cope with the Sunday drivers who seemed to be out in full force. When I commented on it, Arlene laughed.
"Well, it is Sunday, after all," she snorted. "Besides, it's a nice day. Everyone is out enjoying the spring weather."
"Yeah, I suppose," I sighed.
"Damn it, Dave. Quit moping," she snapped.
I turned and looked at her in surprise.
"It is not the end of the world. I know you've lost your wife and your marriage, but I think you realized they were going down the tubes anyway. You still have your daughter and you still have your life. All things considered, you're extremely lucky. You're just going to have to adjust to some changes in your lifestyle."
The tone she used seemed to be anger, but then again it wasn't. It was almost a plea for me to calm myself and think of the future. Whatever she was trying to accomplish eluded me, but I didn't have time to worry about it right then because she was pulling into the police station parking lot.
I'd never been in a police station before, I'd never been in a morgue before, and I'd never been in a detective's office before. I hope I never have to be in any of those places under a similar situation at any time in my life. Everyone there seemed cold and clinical, even Arlene changed. Somehow, she became a cop the instant we stepped out of her car. I could see her stand straighter, throw her shoulders back, and put a look of neutral determination on her face.
Detective Fairchild was waiting for us at the front desk, then took us straight to the morgue. The attendant didn't waste any time, as soon as we walked in his door, he slid open a drawer, then pulled back the sheet that had covered the face of a corpse. There on an aluminum slab lay my dead wife. Her face was pale, almost waxy looking, but with a strange blueish tinge. To my surprise, her expression looked quite calm. In fact, she looked almost like she had died in her sleep.
I just nodded when the detective asked if it was Claire.
Then the attendant opened another drawer. I nodded again when I saw the face of my dead mother-in-law.
Suddenly I had to get out of the morgue, perhaps it was the situation, perhaps it was the odour in the room, I don't know. All I knew is that I was going to be sick.
"Bathroom!" I cried, holding my hand over my mouth and racing from the room.
Arlene shouted directions as I raced down the hall. I made it to a toilet stall before I woofed. Surprisingly, I felt a lot better after that. I'd washed my face and hands, and even managed to rinse my mouth before Detective Fairchild poked his head in the door.
"You okay now?" he asked quietly.
"Some better, I guess. I think it was the smell in there that got to me."
"That happens," he said quietly. "You want a pop or something to rinse the taste out of your mouth?"
"No, I'll be okay."
"Feel up to answering a few questions?"
"Why not?" I sighed and followed him to a desk in one cubicle surrounded by several others.
He sat at his desk and took notes as I described the happenings of the last three days. It was actually quite simple, yet it was painful. It was like I was setting a seal on a part of my life, putting a lid on fifteen years of my past. When I came to the part about the two messages on the phone, Arlene suggested that he listen to them, and that he should tape them at the same time, so he could play them back at his convenience. She told him that I'd provide a copy of the original, if he needed it.
I cued the answering machine and then asked if I could leave the room. Arlene took me down to the police lunch room and handed me a real cup of coffee.
"Here, doctor's orders or not, I think you need this," she said quietly.
"Thanks," I took it from her and flopped down on an old overstuffed couch.
I felt sad and angry, but in a strange way, I was feeling relieved. I had done what I needed to do. Perhaps now, I could start to put my life back together. Perhaps I could help Shannon accept the fact that she and I were alone.
I couldn't help glancing at Arlene, wondering how this was going to affect her, how it was going to affect us. Could I learn to accept her after this? Would Claire's death have an effect on how she felt about me or how I felt about her? Could I move on? Would she think I was hard hearted if I didn't mourn Claire in some way she expected?
Neither Arlene nor I spoke. We sat there quietly, both of us sipping on our coffees, both of us immersed in our own thoughts.
Finally Detective Fairchild came in and nodded to me.
"I think I have all I need for now," he said quietly. "Will you be staying at Arlene's for a day or two?"
"Yes he will," she said firmly. "He can't go back to his house right now and his daughter needs him with her. Mother and I talked about it and we've decided they're both staying with us."
I was starting to protest when suddenly she got to her feet and stood in front of me, glaring directly into my eyes.
"Look, you damn fool, what do you think would happen if some smart aleck reporter adds up everything and connects it to you. An attempted rape, the attack on you in front of your house, the attempted arson, and now a double suicide or even a possible murder/suicide, and all connected to you in some way. For a few days you'd be the center of a media blitz. Do you want that? Do you want to go to your sister's and have her go through that?" her voice was almost brittle, it was so filled with emotion. "At our place you have a chance to stay out of sight until you're back on your feet. Or, do you want to be the center of attention and lose every bit of privacy you ever had?"
"Unh, no," I admitted.
I hadn't even considered that possibility.
"I should mention that there were three different phone calls on your answering machine at the end of the two messages we were interested in. Each of them was a request for information or for an interview and they were all from local newsroom staffers," Detective Fairchild said quietly. "I apologize for listening to them, but . . ."
"That's okay," I interrupted, waving off his concerns. "I suppose Arlene is right, I'd better hide out for a day or two."
"Right," Arlene said firmly, looking at the detective. "Now, Dave has to go to his house to meet with the insurance adjuster in charge of the cleanup of his place. Did you want a direct copy of that tape?"
"No, what I've got is good enough," he smiled. "But if the two of you would like to ride out there in a plain Jane, I could offer you a ride."
"A plain Jane?" I asked, slightly confused.
"An unmarked police car," Arlene offered. "He caught onto the fact that I thought he owed you a favour. If there's a reporter staked out at your house, the three of us going in together will look like investigators and my car won't even be compromised."
"Oh," I said quietly, appreciating the idea. "Thanks Detective Fairchild."
"Make it Dick," he announced. "I think you've earned a bit of respect from all of us because of your complete cooperation."
So I got to ride to my house in an unmarked police car. I was surprised to see a security guard posted out front with a security van parked in my driveway. Dick showed him his badge and told him that an insurance adjuster was coming by, then we walked up to the front door.
I was reaching into my pocket for my keys when Arlene touched my arm.
"Don't bother," she whispered quietly.
There was a strange looking plate over the door handle but Dick somehow unlocked it and opened the door.
The first thing that struck me as we stepped inside was the rank odour of burnt paper and the stale smell of something spoiled. Somehow the whole house felt different, almost oppressive. I had the urge to run around throwing open the doors and windows to air it out.
Dreading what I was going to see, I walked down the hallway to my office. Somehow I expected total destruction, but it wasn't as bad as what I had thought it would be. Claire must have emptied all of the drawers of my filing cabinet onto the floor and then thrown every computer disk and cd she could find onto the pile. As well as that, she'd thrown my personal copies of my four books along with them.
Nothing she had destroyed was irreplaceable. In actual fact she had damaged a lot of things, but hadn't destroyed them. Surprisingly she hadn't thrown all my research papers onto the pile. They were still lying in a file-box on my desk, next to my computer. The desktop computer didn't look damaged either, but since it was leased from the University, it was covered by insurance in any case. Nothing in this room was irreplaceable. I would have had a hard time replacing the books that still sat on the shelves, but they didn't seem badly damaged. I was even more relieved when I unlocked the desk and opened one of the drawers. There was the partially completed manuscript of my next book, totally untouched.
Even if she had found that, she didn't seem to have realized that I had everything I'd ever written backed up on disk as well as having much of it on paper and in a file at my University office. Even if the whole house had burned, she wouldn't have destroyed my work. It suddenly dawned on me that Claire had never understood me or my methods.
"Well, how bad is it?" Arlene asked.
"Thanks to you and your quick actions, it's not bad at all," I smiled as I turned to face her. "I owe you, big time."
"But what about all the stuff that's burnt and ruined?" she pointed to the pile.
"That's mostly old bills, research papers from my first four books, some computer programs that I can buy again, a few of my old backup cd's, things like that. Nothing there is worth much, certainly not worth worrying unduly about. I'll get the insurance people to pack it all in boxes and put it in the garage. I'll sort through it later. All the important things seem to be just fine," I smiled again. "Now if the fire had gotten going, I'd have lost all my personal books and maybe even the house."
Then I smiled at her again.
"Even having everything burn wouldn't have mattered that much, I have a copy of all my work backed up at the University, and a house is just an object that can be replaced. I'm partial to this one, because it has family ties, but it wouldn't be the end of the world if it were gone. The furniture in the living room and dining room are a different story, because those are almost irreplaceable, but I doubt if they've been damaged badly. That being said, I still think I owe you the best dinner that I can afford at the best restaurant in town."
"I'll take you up on that," she managed to smile, "but I think we should save that until after all the hullabaloo about this case has faded of course."
"You're on. Now while I'm here, do you suppose I could pick up some clothes?" I changed the subject. "I'll choose washable things, so if they do smell of smoke, I can just wash them."
She was laughing at that when the insurance adjuster arrived. He was quite happy to find out that all I wanted him to do was to salvage what he could from the pile. We went over the rest of the house hurriedly and I warned him about the irreplaceable furniture, then he left with instructions to call me at Arlene's if he had any more questions. I packed a box full of clothing under Arlene's critical eye and I took my laptop, as well as the removable hard drive from my computer and my working papers, then Dick drove us back to the police station.
When we got back to Arlene's, her mother met us as we got out of the car.
"The girls have decided that they're cooking for everyone tonight," she smiled.
"Oh," I said quietly. "Shannon doesn't cook dinners does she? She never did around our house."
"I think someone is in for a surprise," Mrs Banks smiled at me.
"We'll be downstairs. Dave has some washing to do," Arlene stated flatly. "He brought a box of clothes from his house and they reek of smoke."
I didn't think they were that bad, but I decided that since it was her house, I'd follow her instructions and wash my clothes. While they were washing, she put on some music, took off her clothes and opened a bottle of wine. Then she insisted that I strip to my shorts and join her in the back yard. As I sat in one of her garden chairs, she handed me a glass of wine and she smiled.
I'll admit it, after seeing her body in the nude again, I had a hard-on that no shorts could have hidden and I was embarrassed by it. Yet I wanted to try to please her because she was so nice to Shannon and me. However, at the same time I liked seeing her nude. If the price of seeing her wearing nothing but her birthday suit was to strip to my shorts, then I'd decided that I was willing to pay that fee and probably twice as much on Sundays.
"I like your body, and you have great facial features. Can I paint you?" she asked bluntly
"Hnngh?" I coughed, almost choking on the mouthful of wine I had been trying to swallow.
"I want to do a painting of you, in the nude of course," she laughed softly. "We could do it one day when the girls are in school. Or we could even start to do it tomorrow."
The price of seeing her nude had just been inflated be a monstrous amount in an extremely short period of time.
"Don't I have to go to the doctor's office?" I tried vainly to stall her.
"We can work around that, but you don't even have an appointment yet."
"Well, I brought my laptop, I was hoping to do some writing," I stalled again.
"I'll even work around that," she giggled.
"Can I think about it?" I said slowly. "And please, don't mention it to the girls."
"Okay, I won't mention it tonight," she said quietly. "Oh, by the way, since Noreen will be here for dinner and since she will probably have wine with the meal, she'll probably want to stay the night. Since she'll be using Mom's spare bed, the girls will be back in Cindy's room and I'll be sleeping with you again."
I almost choked on another swallow of wine.
"You have to stop choking like that," she chuckled. "Besides, it's not like I expect you to be in the mood for sex tonight, not after what has gone on today. I'm just going to be there, that way you have someone to hold if you need any reassurance."
"Mmm," I grunted, unsure if I believed her.
I didn't get a chance to say anything though, suddenly Shannon was at my elbow.
"Well, that's a lot better Daddy," she grinned at me. "And it answers my question. We're eating downstairs."
With that she wheeled and disappeared inside again.
"What was that about?" I asked in surprise.
"I think your daughter liked seeing you in tight shorts. I imagine that we're going to eat dinner downstairs because she and my family know that's a nude zone, so I think she's decided that our two young cooks just became topless waitresses," Arlene chortled.
"Oh my!" I sighed. "What next?"
"Well, if we're nude or near nude, Mom will be too," she chuckled.
"I guess if I can handle seeing the girls topless, I can handle that too."
"Good, because since it's Sunday dinner, my sister will be here as well, and she'll certainly strip off to join us."
"Your sister will be nude too?"
"Unh huh, I think you'll like seeing her," Arlene laughed openly. "But, I should warn you, she's very sexy, she loves to tease men and I think she might be jealous of me for having the inside track with you, so she might get a bit outrageous."
I just stared at Arlene, wondering what else she was going to throw at me.