Picking Up the Check

For the record, saying 'weather permitting' during Winter in Wisconsin might as well mean 'we will reschedule'. As I watched the snow fall later that afternoon, I could think of nothing but being snowed in at the mansion, a mixed blessing to say the least. I called to say 'tomorrow okay?' and there was no problem with that concept, apart from Cuthbold and his eagerness to get that check.

By Friday evening, the snow was no longer falling and the roads were mostly cleared. I didn't really want to have a large check in my possession over the weekend but it's not like someone could steal it and cash it in. It's a check. It's not like I could cash it and run off to Mexico with the money.

Mental note: Make no such joke while there. If Ms. Romero were to hear such an idea, she may insist upon it happening.

Unsurprisingly, the roads in River Hills were clean, the snow perfectly removed as if it had never fallen in the first place. The path to the mansion door was also meticulously clean. It still felt like I was stepping into something. Feeling nervous seemed logical despite there being nothing to be nervous about. I'd go into the hallway, Dr. Castillo would give me the check, we'd chat for a moment, and I'd be off. No problem.

Except that I knew it would never be as easy as that.

The Butler greeted me at the door and bid me to enter, no different from my arrival to the party except I'm not dressed as nicely, having come directly from work. This made the Butler seem that much better dressed. “If you would just step into the living room, the Mistress of the House will take care of you.”

Mistress? “But I'm here to see Dr. Castillo,” I protested.

“Unfortunately, the Master of the House has yet to return from his day of business.” The Butler gestured again towards the living room. “Just through there sir.” Then he walked away! Back to wherever Butlers go hide when they're not needed, but I needed him to protect me. For a moment, I considered saying something, but he disappeared before I could think of anything beyond 'help'.

Looking at the living room door, I knew to be nervous. This was going to be interesting.

Making the Call

How long does it take to find the gentleman? I understand it's a large house but the butler has been gone for five minutes now. Who has a house phone these days anyway? I'm surprised they didn't provide their mobcom numbers. I understand they like an older style but they aren't that old where they wouldn't have mobile communication devices out of unfamiliarity with the devices. If they are such busy people, you think they'd be glued to them. Maybe that's the problem, maybe Dr. Castillo is on his mobcom and isn't free to talk on the landline. Then why hasn't the butler just said so? He could just call me back. There isn't even boring music loops to listen to, just silence, tedious, tedious silence.

Except when there's the sound of footsteps and the clunking of a receiver being picked up. “Hello?” I ask, hoping for a voice, any voice, to make this process progress.

“Ah, Patrick my sweet.” Did I say 'any voice'? I didn't, didn't I? Well that was stupid. I should have hoped for any voice bar Ms. Romero. That would have been a better choice. “How are you this morning?”

“I'm, ah, well this morning.” I tried not to stammer but failed. “How are you?”

“I am excellent. Actually,” she paused to stretch, “I just woke up a few moments ago so I am still in bed.”

Must be nice. It's already after ten. Now, at this point the best thing for me to have said would have been nothing. Second best might have been to ask about her husband as I had hoped to pick up the check from him. I would feel more comfortable collecting the check from him.

Did I select either of these vocal options? Of course not. I was nervous and still not quite over the surprise of hearing her voice. I stuck with my traditional response while under similar circumstances. I began to babble.

“Still wrapped up in a nice warm bed?” I echoed. “Good choice on a miserably cold day like today.” This is the point when I became completely stupid. “I wish I was still wrapped up in bed.”

She purred. “There is plenty of room for you here.” Her voice found a way to become more sultry. “It would be much warmer with you here Patrick. You would be toasty rather quickly. I'm still naked.”

I nearly dropped the phone. This was not helping. Apparently I responded to her in some way, a grunt or a whimper, as she continued. “That's right Patrick: I sleep naked. Summer or winter, it makes no difference. There's just no point in having a garment get between your body and silk sheets, don't you think?”

“I, um, the purpose of my call was to set up an appointment to pick up your donation to the school.”

“That sounds like excellent timing to me,” she answered. “Stop by now and you can get what you are looking for.”

“Er...” Intelligent response that 'er...'. “I'm afraid I'm at work at the moment.”

“Would not collecting our donation be considered school business?” Unfortunately that was a good answer. “I promise that it won't feel like work.”

“I, I, I wouldn't want to bother you so early in your day. I'm sure you would want to wash up...”

“You can scrub my back.”

“...put on your face...”

“I don't really wear makeup.”

“...have breakfast...” At which point our conversation completely broke down. She didn't even bother with single entendres. Starting with her description of breakfast, which involved a type of 'sausage' not normally served at the table, she began to weave a tale of debauchery, describing what certain parts of her physiognomy looked like, felt like, as well as which parts of my person they would best match up with and how this arrangement would benefit the both of us. To summarize her story, she made a very good case for me to run over to her house.

I didn't know how to respond. I mean, she had delineated a very specific course of action for me to take but, apart from actually following her idea, I didn't know what to do. “Thank you” just didn't seem like the appropriate way to respond to a story as filthy as hers had been. Intelligently I gurgled into the phone.

There was the sound of fumbling, the sound that accompanies the collecting of a receiver from a table or desk. “Ah, Patrick my friend,” declared Dr. Castillo. “How are you on this chilly day?”

“Surprisingly warm,” I responded before really considering it. “Yourself?”

“I am very well, thank you for asking.” He inhaled deeply. “Very productive start to the day, many things accomplished on both business and personal levels.” I swear I heard him wink at this point. “Now then you were calling in regards to the donation, yes?” I confirmed this was the case. “You need not have waited on my availability my friend. I believe my wife was free to speak to you. Between the two of you I am sure you could have scheduled something.”

I coughed, momentarily unable to speak. After apologizing, I noted “I was of the understanding that I was collecting the check from you sir.”

“It is hardly necessary for me to be here. You can come by most any time available to you. Now if it is convenient. I do much of my work from home but you would not be disturbing me.”

“I was hoping to stop by on my way home from work some night. I'm still playing catch-up from being busy all Monday.”

“My friend! I am sorry that I never considered such a possibility. Your work ethic is truly commendable. That would be acceptable, more than acceptable. What time period are we discussing?” I clarified it for him. I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued. “I see no issue with that plan. Tonight? Excellent. I believe I should be here at that time. If not, my wife can always give it to you.”

“I'm sure she would,” I mumbled. “Tonight then, weather permitting.”

Of Course There's a Wrinkle

“Good news.” Cuthbold wasted no time in visiting me next morning. He's big on face-to-face contact. Either that or he's mooching my coffee again. “Your tour did the trick; we are getting the money.”

I immediately relaxed. Success! Evidently my rejections of Ms. Romero were not an impediment to the donation. Excellent. I would be safe now, at least for awhile, at least until the next fundraising effort.

“They want you to come pick up the check in person. Apparently it's of a size that they won't trust the post office with it. Of course I offered to collect it myself but Rosal... I mean Ms. Romero was quite insistent that you be the one to collect it.” His expression grew suddenly serious. “Don't mess this up Patrick. We do need this donation very badly. While the timing is not critical, well, the sooner we have the check, the better I'll feel. Understood?” I nodded. “Excellent. I'm sure you won't delay in arranging for its collection. The number's just there.” That was that.

So much for it being over.

Then This Happened

We were headed into the next room to see the spot where I was once rained on indoors. Somehow Dr. Castillo got ahead of us, entering the connecting hallway first. Ms. Romero was behind me as we headed to join him. I thought nothing of this until pow!

With speed and power a hand connected solidly with my posterior. The shock, as well as the impact, lifted me from the ground, drawing a loud squeak of surprise from me. Somehow, I'm still not sure how exactly, she managed to slip a finger into an area where I really don't think it should have been but that's why I jumped as extra high as I did.

When I landed, I spun round to face Ms. Romero, needing to confront her. Now I don't dance as my feet are not that skilled. I get the impression that she is a skilled dancer as she managed to move with me as I turned, maintaining her hold upon me as well as wrapping herself about me and pinning me to the nearby dry erase board. She squeezed the part of my person most within her grasp. “You're very firm,” she breathed in my ear. “You must do a great deal of walking.”

I began to panic immediately. Trust me, I would have liked to have just stood there and enjoyed the situation but her husband was mere steps away and I was sure that my expression of shock would certainly draw his attention. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

She laughed. “You have yet to figure it out? You are an innocent boy, are you not?” She blew in my ear, jellying my knees. I managed to protest further, pointing out the proximity of her husband, just in case that concept had escaped her in the heat of the moment. She did not seem very concerned by this reminder. “I am not worried about him so why you be bothered?” To emphasize her lack of concern, she began to nibble at my ear lobe. Had she not been pressing me so firmly to the wall, I would probably have fallen down then as my legs were no longer a visible means of support.

“I feel I am missing out on something!” Dr. Castillo declared loudly. “You are not keeping a story from me I hope.” From the sound of it, he was returning to the room, just as Ms. Romero had given up on my ear and was coming around to my face, opening up the Zone.

There is a closeness that people get, a specific distance from one another, when they are about to kiss. It's often accompanied by a Look. They stare deep into each other's eyes from maybe six inches away from each other, no more than a foot apart, and then each person's personal gravity draws them to the other. You can feel the Zone open up. There's a tingle that accompanies it. Normally this is a good thing. As Ms. Romero gave me the Look, I swore I heard her husband's footsteps drawing nearer and nearer.

Rightfully, I think, I panicked. I managed to shove her away from me, which didn't appear to please her. This had the unfortunate side effect of making me collapse as she was supporting me more than I believed, my earlier jokes aside. When the brightly smiling Dr. Castillo returned to the lab, he found his wife leaning back on the long, dark lab table and myself hovering over my shoes. Concern appeared on his face as I looked up at him. “Is all well?”

“Well? Oh yes very certainly all is well,” I burbled. “Just a little problem with my shoelaces, no big deal.” I kept fidgeting with the ear that had been toyed with by Ms. Romero as it felt very warm.

Dr. Castillo's smile faded in intensity. “Patrick my friend, your shoes have no laces.”

“That's the problem,” I quickly clarified. “They were loose and I had to adjust this tongue bit here, well, nevermind, they're all fixed now.” I popped back to my feet somewhat successfully. “Now then, where were we again? Oh yes! Where I sat, Na'Dar lady on my lap and raincloud above my head. Right this way.”

I scurried away in a manner I hoped would look casual but I'm sure didn't appear so to my observers. I made sure I kept a good distance from Ms. Romero. She made no further efforts to approach me as I told my story fragment; she just stood next to her husband. However, this did not mean she left me alone, far from it. When she knew my eyes were upon her, she blew kisses, she winked, she would gyrate ever so subtly. Once she made a gesture with her tongue that was impressively rude.

Thankfully, we were nearly done. We wandered back to my office to collect their coats. I shook hands with Dr. Castillo. I politely kissed the hand of Ms. Romero. They thanked me once again and they left me.

I collapsed into my chair. I had survived.

The Day Started Well Enough

I give a lot of tours of the campus. At least it seems like I do this with some regular frequency. I've been told I provide an interesting experience. One of the advantages that I have over most of the other people associated with the school is that I've been here for years in different roles. I've been student and employee, thereby seeing more of the campus than the others. I have stories and I'm not afraid to tell them., assuming of course that the tourees want to hear those stories.

Dr. Castillo and Rosalind Romero, for being such busy people, wanted to hear the stories, all of them. If I hesitated, they would cajole me into telling it. If it looked like a thought crossed my mind, they would push me to catch up to it and express it. At first I was uncomfortable, especially given how I left their party and why, but after a few minutes, all was well. I told them about the rumors surrounding the dismissal of Professor White and my role in that dismissal, the time I had the Na'Dar gal 'glued' to me, and where the Glump broke through the wall to begin his rampage in the city. They did a good job fixing that wall; if I hadn't been there when it happened I wouldn't have guessed it was in that room.

They made it easy to tell these stories. When the story was funny, they laughed enthusiastically. If it was scary, they gasped. Sad and there would be tears.

There were also no real signs of flirtation from Ms. Romero. That helped. Oh she would smile and I'd blush a little or she'd rest her hand on my arm or she'd tease me a bit but that's clearly just her way. She's tactile and funny and sweet. Sure I jumped a bit the first time she touched me but she wasn't grabbing me or anything, just making contact. Maybe she was a little overcharged on the fruit of the vine at the party. These things happen. No big deal.

It was my job for the day to make them happy. Busy as I heard they are I expected them to want the quick version of the tour which still takes an hour if it's going to be comprehensive. Thankfully I booked myself to be with them all day because that's what it took. As we wandered through the empty laboratories on the north end of campus, no sunlight was left to beam through the large windows in the room. My feet were sore from walking, my mouth was dry from talking, but we were nearly done with what looked to be a successful day.

It all happened so quickly.

Well She's No Help

I'm not exactly sure what reaction I expected, but laughter was not it. Moodily I sat there and waited for her to finish. When that didn't happen quickly enough, I grumped. “I don't see why that's funny.”

Sarah Jean did her best to stop laughing but her smile showed signs of returning to laughter at any moment. “I don't understand why you're so concerned. If you're not overestimating her looks in your mental image, she is very attractive and she came onto you. Are you sure that you weren't drinking and imagined it?”

“I'm sure.”

“Maybe she was drinking and gravitated to you because she felt you were safe?” Sarah Jean suggested. “Did you consider that?”

I hadn't. Pondering that made me feel better and worse. “Now I'm worried I abandoned her to mischief.”

For a moment, she just looked at me and smiled. Just before I was about to ask what was up now, she spoke. “You're actually concerned. That's so sweet.” The smile disappeared. “Too sweet sometimes. People take advantage of you sometimes.” Unbidden, a personally embarrassing moment starring the young lady across the table from me sprang into my mind. “Hey! That's not fair.”

“I seem to recall you finding my being uncomfortable in that store rather amusing,” I pointed out.

“That was different,” she protested.

“I suppose it was,” I stated coolly, “it's not often one can say that they helped save humanity by buying some ladies underwear.”

When I grinned, she laughed. “You kept the joke from me; how did you do that?”

There she had me. “Instinct maybe. I'm not sure.”

“Well, don't start keeping secrets from me now,” she played. Suddenly thoughtful, almost apologetically, she added “Not that you really have any reason to tell me anything.”

“Right.”

“Because it's not like we have any hold on each other.”

“Exactly.”

“But, um, if you did get frisky with this lady, you'd say something, right?”

The chuckle that escaped me was pure instinct. “Oh, magically I'd be able to keep something like that a secret. Right. I mean the guilt alone would give it away.”

“The guilt,” Sarah Jean repeated, fiddling with her tea cup. “From... meddling with a married lady.”

“That too.”

She didn't look up at me but I saw a grin pull at the corners of her mouth. By the time she looked up, all this was gone. “I'm sure you'll be fine. I mean, I'm already out of your league, so she's REALLY out of your league.”

“Clearly.”

“She's probably so high maintenance.”

“No doubt.”

“Just use you up and throw you away like it was nothing.” Thoughts zipped through my mind. She reacted. “I did not need to see any of that!”

“You started it!” I protested.

“I did not!”

“I was behaving until you said something.” I grinned. “Besides, you're just jealous it wasn't you in those thoughts.”

That didn't get the 'ha ha' reaction I expected or even a bashful admittance that I was right to some degree. She just gave me a weird look. By weird I mean that I wasn't sure how to interpret it, as opposed to the weird of the Teddy Bears Picnic that surrounded us. She just looked at me like that for a minute and then the expression was just gone. “Tour's Monday?” I confirmed that she was correct. “Have fun with that,” she said encouragingly.

“You never know. Hope that business with the Khentites works out okay.”

“It had better.” She smiled. “Take care Patrick.”

“See you soon Sarah Jean.”