Tawny dribbles, shoots, and hears the roar of the crowd. The basket she aims at reads Playschool. She dribbles through LeBron and goes in for an easy lay-up. She reaches for her inhaler, or for relief from Asthma’s misgivings. A doctor suggested she start on Singulair to see if it could better control her (particular) form of Asthma.
Saturdays are fun. Early morning cartoons followed by teen sitcoms or Ed Nye the Science Guy. KC stands and watches Tawny, until he begs her to toss his ball. Tawny told him “bad dog” enough that KC treats the basketball as if it is strictly off limits.
“Walter Reid passes the b-ball to Tawny Alexandre. She dribbles, pulls up and shoots a three-pointer over Cry Baby Bewton.”
Tawny wonders, How can one man get so many calls by pouting like a six-year old?
“Want to play horse, mommy?”
Georgia just finished preparing lunch.
“I’ll make you a giraffe.”
“When I beat you…”
“Or a horse, if you’d prefer.”
Georgia picks up her girl and tickles her. “Confident, aren’t we?”
“Time for lunch, mommy? I’m hungry!”
“Well, pull up a chair.”
Georgia looks over at her child and notices how much she has grown recently.
“So…What’d you watch this morning? Bugs Bunny was my favorite growing up.”
“Poke’Mon, Sailor Moon, and the Smurfs.”
“The Smurfs are still on tv?”
“On channel seven.”
“Eat your eggs before they’re cold.”
“This wheat toast?”
Georgia loves that she has somehow instilled the fact Tawny should eat healthy.
“Just like you like.”
Tawny gobbles up the food, saving a few bites on her shirt for later.
“Don’t talk while you eat. Not good manners.”
“And people tend to spit when they do.”
Almost ignoring the directive, Tawny adds, “Can we rent Whispers today?”
“Is that—that Disney movie about elephants?”
“Yes. I love elephants.”
“You pick up your toys?”
Tawny doesn’t answer her mother, but points to a large glob of food in her mouth. In her smile, Georgia catches a quick glimpse of the beauty her daughter will—one day—become; the single mother is more than a little taken back by the teasing nature inherent in the child’s eyes, as well as how her facial expressions border on the mystical.
The woman’s cell phone rings. Georgia wonders if Lucky is again paying his respects.
Tawny picks up the phone.
“Can I speak to your mom or dad?”
“Mom, it’s for you.”
Somehow, the mother doubts Tawny can hear Lucky.
“Hello…Are you the bill payer of the house?”
Georgia becomes angry, as if she thinks it an invasion of their privacy.
“I am not interested! And, I wish you’d quit calling here!”
“But mam…,” is all the phone solicitor gets out of her mouth, before Georgia hangs up the receiver.
“Don’t call me…I’ll call you,” Georgia says to the landline phone.
Tawny chuckles, before saying, “Mommy, why are you talking to the telephone?”
“Never mind. You gonna’ help me with the dishes?”
Tawny makes a strange face, but her voice answers, “O.K.”
Mother and daughter work together and laugh together. Georgia washes and Tawny dries. Georgia jumps and giggles when Tawny snaps her in the thigh with a dish towel. KC sits at their feet expecting in on the fun, and Tawny quickly obliges him.
“Is something wrong?”
Sammy looks over at the sultry stranger, as the small airplane experiences minor wind shear.
“I have changed a hooter since we met.”
He want to break up, because he’s chasing a Hooter Girl? Belinda wonders.
Instead, she asks, “How’s that?”
“I reckon this sounds strange, but I have found my compass—the perfect place where I’m at peace.”
“You found a new leader?”
“Shucks no. Just been lightened bout lots of things.”
“Maybe you do need to get away; you’re becoming a nut case!”
Her long fingernails massage his groin and the inside of his inner thigh.
“Bora Bora is quite beautiful.”
“Yu been ter before?”
“I’m a model…Remember? I had a bikini shoot there. I even snorkeled with the Manta Rays.”
“You wind surf at all?”
“Yes. It’s the bomb!”
The lanky woman looks out a small airplane window before she adds, “Bora Bora is one of the most romantic places on earth. We can make love to a sunset that is second to none.”
“On the beach?”
“In a coral bed, among the rocks, or among a throng of sharks.”
What vittles fur the sharks.
The model downs her third drink, causing her to approach the land of severely tipsy.
“How about on a plane—among the friendly skies?”
The British Model quickly sheds her button top. A Frederick’s of Hollywood Bra reveals cannons too opulent and elliptical to be real. In fact, her stomach could act as a poster child for washboard abs.
Cledus feels the woman’s taught stomach and touches her lips, before he scatters fish kisses just above a small tear drop tattoo. The boyish haired woman fiddles with his thick leather belt.
“Put this on.” Belinda demands, as she hands him a condom.
Cledus gladly grants the woman’s request. The next thing Cledus knows, the wheels are up and they’re flying. The lithe woman reaches for the tubing of an oxygen mask, pulls it down, then works one side free with a few forceful tugs. Before the new Sammy knows what is about to transpire, the tube cinches around his neck and pulls taut. Belinda’s rhythm begins to increase. Cledus gasps for breath and feels waves of euphoria flow through his body, as Sammy’s girlfriend stows his landing gear deeper and deeper inside of her. Cledus’s heart hits the red zone. His mind feels as if it is short-circuiting.
But Cledus will (later) recall, with fondness, the most intense orgasm he ever had, right before whole-hearted oxygen flowed back into his lungs.
The model’s back is scratched and bleeding where the rugged man dug in, but her smile reflects that she is completely satisfied. She undoes the plastic tubing that has left a deep imprint at the star’s neck.
The light-headed sensation Cledus feels quickly subsides. “You’re some pumpkins, Belinda!”
The woman leans over and pours herself another drink, before disposing of the condom.
“I’m some pumpkins. What’s that supposed to mean?” The model asks, as if she is a well-versed anesthesiologist who has just been insulted.
The model is not in a real hurry to put her clothes back on; it is as if she begs the man to pounce on her again or continue to worship her naked form.
Cledus does neither. Instead, he turns his head in the direction of a small window and closes his eyes. Sammy’s main squeeze checks to see he’s asleep. She begins to rummage through the garbage. Belinda pours the contents of the condom onto her fingers. In desperation, the conniving woman slides the rock singer’s milky seed deep inside of her pink channel. The Lear Jet continues towards its rendezvous with a boat. The woman sits in a small chair with her uncovered long legs spread open, while watching the grown Richy Rich sleep.