Over dinner, Mike confesses that he didn’t know who Mystery Date was. He tries to recall details, but he can’t even remember her eye color. He knows she had brown hair because he found long strands in his bed. Other than that, he’s clueless.
“What are you thinking about? You got awfully quiet. If I couldn’t hear you eating, I’d think you’d left me all by myself.”
“I was thinking about last night—trying to think of details.”
“You were thinking about how well you performed.” She giggled. “Don’t think I don’t know. In that mental review, did you discover anymore?”
“No, ma’am. Just what I already told you. One thing though. I don’t think she’s someone from the complex and I don’t think that I knew her.”
“You took a perfect stranger to your bed?”
“Yes, Jesse, I think I did.”
“You bad boy!”
“No. I’m naughty, but I’m damn good at it.”
I stayed an hour or so longer at Jesse’s apartment, helping her clean up. We had a cup of decaff and then it was late enough that she wanted to go to bed. I waited on the porch until she locked up, and headed back to my place. There was a car parked next to my Jeep in the driveway. It wasn’t a car I recognized, but there was someone in it. It looked like a woman. But she wasn’t my dark haired mystery woman. This one was blonde. I could see it in the streetlights.
She got out of her car as I walked up to the porch. It was Simone, Deidre’s mother.
“Before you say anything, I can explain,” I said quickly.
I opened the door and held it for her to enter. She stalked past me, radiating anger. I could feel it hit me like waves. I also caught a whiff of her perfume and about keeled over. I’d forgotten the effect she had on me.
“My daughter said she came over here to give you a birthday present.”
“She did. Those mugs on the table. I was going to come over tomorrow and thank you.”
“Is that the only thing she gave you?”
“She kissed me some. Listen, Simone, before you get any angrier, can I tell you what happened? Cause I know you’re not going to believe Deidre.”
“What makes you think I’ll believe you?”
She folded her arms across her chest, flopping down on the couch right about where her daughter had been sitting a few hours ago. I helped her get her coat off, tossed my jacket over the chair and sat next to her.
“Deidre came over here somewhat upset. She had some questions for me.”
Simone raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“She had something she wanted me to do. I didn’t do it.”
“Are you telling me that my teenage daughter wanted to have sex with you? Is that what you’re insinuating, Mike?”
I didn’t want to say, I couldn’t form the words. I nodded, waiting for the explosion. When it didn’t come, I opened my eyes. Simone was shaking her head in wonder.
“That explains so much. My daughter and I have been arguing the better part of the afternoon. What the hell did you tell her about us?”
“Nothing specific. Look, she came over here wanting me to be her first,” I admitted quietly. “I told her no. Not that it wasn’t a tempting offer. . . . Like her mother, she is very beautiful. But she’s a kid.”
“But you did kiss her? You put your hands on her?”
“I’m sorry, Simone. She was all over me and I lost control for a few minutes. But I swear, nothing but the kissing and a little, pointless groping.”
“How is groping ever pointless?” she asked with a grin.
“Cause it was going absolutely nowhere. Your daughter is pretty incredible,” I continued. “But she’s got nothing on her mother.”
“Why, Michael Reuben, are you trying to seduce me?”
“I dunno, Simone Carey. That’ll depend on if you let me.”
“Fuck you, Mike.” But she didn’t mean it in a bad way.
Leaning toward her, I ran my fingers up her arm. “Can you stay?”
She shrugged, moving closer.
“Cause I’d really like you to. That’s if you want to?” My hand moved to her cheek, caressing the her face with my thumb. “Really like you to, a lot.” My lips moved toward hers.
Suddenly, she was in my arms, kissing me passionately. She had the wild, uninhibited nature of her daughter with one distinct advantage. She was an adult and I didn’t have to worry about going to jail for screwing her brains out. Which I proceeded to do—three times.
© Dellani Oakes 2014