Not So Model Home - By David James Page 0,19
. . yet.
I continued in an attempt to hide my guilty feelings. “Well, I could use the time to work on my fudge sculpture.”
“I didn’t know you had an artistic side.”
“Neither did I, but I’ve got to find something else to do besides hocking houses.”
“I don’t think real estate has been that bad for you. You’ve made some big money selling homes.”
“Yeah, about three years ago.”
“Where is it now?”
“Tied up in the several rental properties I have that are worth about half of what I paid for them. Or just plain pissed away.”
“You pissed all that money away?”
“Well, like I said, I do have several rental properties. And a ton of nice shoes.”
Ken shook his head, then smiled that smile, framed by those pillowy lips that made me fall for him—besides his husky-dog, ice-blue eyes and jet-black hair, graying ever so slightly at the temples.
“Amanda, the time will fly by. And before you know it, I’ll be back in town.”
“Sure,” I replied, giving him a hug while my mind raced at the possibility of being on my own for a while. What was going on with me?
“Of course you should have fun while Ken is gone!” Regina replied incredulously.
I didn’t want to lay my cards on the table with just anyone, but my secret was safe with Regina, my ageless neighbor. The old saying that there may be snow on the roof, but there’s still a fire in the furnace below, fit Regina to a T. Occasionally, though, one of Regina’s gentlemen callers merely left her with a burning sensation down below, if you know what I mean.
“You don’t mean I should cheat on Ken, do you?” I asked.
“Amanda, Ken is a terrific guy. But you can’t get all you want and need in one package.”
“Yes, I can. Ken gives me support, he loves me, we have great sex. What more can a woman want?”
“Something different. Something exciting! The thrill that comes with sex with a complete stranger.”
“Well, you’ve got something there,” I admitted hesitantly. “Can I trust you with a thought I’ve been having lately?”
“Shoot.”
“You know how I was so desperate to find a new partner after Alex and I divorced.”
“Desperate wasn’t the word for it. Pathetic would be a better fit.”
“Oh, c’mon, Regina, I was lonely.”
“That’s why I encouraged you to get out and have some funnnnnnnnn.”
“That’s what would you call it, Regina?”
“Okay, extracurricular activities. Amanda, let me ask you another question. Are you and Ken going steady?”
“Steady? No, but he let me wear his varsity sweater.”
“Funny. So what are the two of you to each other?”
“Regina, we were both in emotionally difficult breakups. We’re just not rushing into anything. We’re taking our time.”
“And taking your time means the ability to explore others, since you’re not tied down to each other.”
I looked at Regina, wondering why she didn’t go into trial law. “When you explain it like that, it doesn’t sound like cheating at all. It sounds like personal fulfillment. Something that I not only deserve, but have a right to.”
“Good, honey. Keep saying it to yourself like that over and over. Hey, I’ve got an idea. Let’s go out tonight and have fun, just us two girls. We can head out to Aqua Bar.”
“Regina, unless the crowd has changed since I was there last, the men there are mostly gay.”
“Listen, sweetie, that hasn’t stopped you or me before. Let’s head out at nine.”
CHAPTER 7
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Regina and I went out that very night. Ken had to pack, so he approved of us going out. Girls’ night, he called it.
At nine, I sidled over to Regina’s house just as she was emerging through the front door, locking it behind her.
“Get in,” she instructed.
I knew she was going to drive, and that meant that we would take her car. Going out for a hot night on the town in a powder-blue, 1996 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight wasn’t exactly the kind of wheels you wanted to be seen in when trying to land hot guys, but Regina was Regina. What could you do but humor the situation?
I got in and slammed the door behind me. Good and solid. Like the door to a Spanish dungeon. Regina slid in, too, slammed the door, then had to slam it again since it wasn’t shutting tight since “I sideswiped an olive tree outside Tropicana after happy hour last week.”
For Regina, this meant one thing: She was a little too happy when she left the restaurant, er, bar. It wasn’t the first time. She