He put on a bathrobe and went into the bathroom. There was only the one connecting bath in the house, making it necessary to go through one or the other of the bedrooms. He chose to go through Charity's room, thinking he might get to see her nude body, again.
Not knocking at her door, he went in. She was just taking off her bra, the only garment she wore, and just before she turned her back on him, clutching at herself to cover her nakedness, gasping out a frightened, 'Donnie!', he saw her in all her luscious, young beauty: the mounding swell of her breasts, high and proud, her smooth, white thighs, her full, soft, rounded buttocks and the curling reddish hair at the vee of her thighs. 'Sorry, Sis!' he mumbled, not at all sorry, but happy with what he had seen.
'Ugh! How many times do I have to tell you to knock!' she stormed, angrily, as he went on into the bathroom.
Turning back to her, as he closed the door, he said, 'Don't get shook, Charity… I've seen naked women before!'
He closed the door quickly; she had just hurled a shoe at him, with another snort of irritation. Inside, the bathroom he took off his robe to reveal an almost instantaneous erection, spearing out from his loins, thick and hard. He reached down to massage and caress it with a hand. Christ! She's beautiful! Man… how I'd like to get it into her… if she just wasn't my sister!
Charity was irritated with her brother for his frank appraisal of her body. It seemed he had 'accidentally' been seeing an awful lot of her nakedness, lately. She was embarrassed by his lustful stare, each time he had walked in on her like this. He looks at me… like he does at those pictures in the books and magazines he reads!
She remembered how her cheeks had flushed when he had shown her a particularly suggestive picture of a couple in lewd copulation. 'Donnie! That's not very nice!'
'Get with it, Sis!' he had told her. 'Sex is here to stay!'
Then she remembered what he had just said. 'I've seen naked women before!' He hadn't said girls… he said women! Donnie considers me a woman!
She looked at herself in the mirror, tipping it and standing tall to see as much of herself as she could. What she saw, she liked, for the first time. Yes! He's right! I'm really a woman… almost a full-grown woman!
Something he overheard from the man next to him caused him to prick up his ears and listen more closely. The man had asked about a woman… a woman named Dottie!
'Yeah… I got a real good lay with her a couple of days ago, when I was through here… thought I'd look her up, again!'
'Sorry, buddy… I can't help you…' the bartender said.
'Name's Dottie Scott… good looking… damn good legs… and she really knows how to wriggle her ass! Hell! It cost me twenty bucks for less than an hour with her!'
The bartender looked aghast at him, then cast a surreptitious glance at Gabby Scott. Good Christ! Gabby's wife! 'Look, buddy! I think you'd better drop it… just a word to the wise!'
Scott was off his chair, his fists swinging in short, punishing arcs, and the salesman was on the floor, in seconds. Gabby's drinking buddy grabbed him to keep him from changing the man's sex as he aimed a deadly kick at the salesman's groin. The bartender called the police, and Gabby was arrested and booked on a disturbance of the peace charge. The salesman was pretty badly shaken up. He told the arresting officer that he was thinking of preferring a charge of assault, against his attacker.
'Damned if I know what got into him!' he told the bartender.
'Dottie Scott is his wife!' he told the salesman, levelly. 'Now, get the hell out of here!'
'It's a fact… What I said.'
'Maybe Gabby'll want to sue for slander… now, just leave my bar, fella…! I don't like your kind of business!' the bartender said. He was exasperated. Trouble like this was bad for business… and he could care less how many guys Dottie laid. It was none of his business… up to the time it began to affect the patronage of his bar. Then, he didn't want any more to do with it. The stupid ass could take his problems some other place!
The salesman slapped a bill on the bar and growled. 'Mighty friendly place you got here!' His voice dripped with sarcasm. He left the bar and went back to his motel to take care of his cuts and bruises. Damn! That was a coincidence! Who'd ever think the broad's husband'd be sitting right next to me? Well, he'll be in jail for a few days! Then, the idea hit him! He's in jail! Obvious!
'Dottie… I'm being booked… down here at the jail,' he said… 'can you go bail for me…?'
'What happened? Why were you arrested?' she worried.
'I hit a guy… in a bar! I was under the influence…'
'Whatever for…'
'You and me'll talk about that, later!' he said grimly; then, more placatingly, '… But, I don't want to spend the night in jail! Can you get me out?'
'Gabe… I can't! We're short-handed here… and if I walked out… I'd get fired sure!' she explained. 'I'll come down first thing tomorrow morning… all right…?'
'Hell no… it ain't all right… but if that's the way it is… I guess I'll have to live with it!' He growled and hung up.
She stared at the silent receiver, replacing it in its cradle, absently, trying to fathom what he meant. How could she be involved? What dark reason was there for her husband to beat up another man in a bar? Who was it? Why? WHY? There were no answers coming her way, and there was a customer signaling for her. She moved out to the floor, going about her work in a daze. Dear God… what's happened? I wish I knew! Oh, how I wish I knew!
About ten o'clock, the traveling man came into the cocktail lounge. Dottie recognized him, at once, but there was no way she could avoid him; she had to take his order, serve him his drink… and talk to him, if she had to do so. The owner wanted happy, satisfied customers. It was that simple, and since he had chosen to sit alone in one of the booths rather than at the bar, she went, reluctantly, to take his order.
'Hello, Dottie…' he leered in a sarcastic tone of voice, 'I'll have Scotch on the rocks.'
She hurried away to fill his order, not wanting to talk to him. He was slow with the money when she brought his drink. His question was direct, however. 'How about a little party, tonight?'
Her smile was dazzling, artificial, 'I'm all tied up,' she lied, 'for the rest of the night! Maybe… some other time.'
Crestfallen, for a moment, he brightened with, 'All right… some other time, then. You know I made a swing back down here, on purpose… just to see you, again…'
'I'm flattered… If you'll excuse me… My customers…' she said, grateful that there really was a customer trying to get her attention.
The salesman finished his drink and left the lounge, after a few minutes. Dottie breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him go. She had no intention of having anything to do with that man again. He repulsed her.
Dottie fielded a couple of other pick-up proposals, turning them down flat. She was worried about Gabe, and she would have to arise earlier in the morning, in order to get downtown, to arrange bail for her husband. She was in no mood for anything involving sex.
Finishing her shift at the usual time, around 10:30, she hurried to her car and drove home. For some reason, she felt apprehensive, and she laid it to her worry over her husband, Gabe; additionally, she couldn't get rid of the threat, the darkly veiled subject Gabe had hinted at in his telephone call to her, a subject that, somehow, concerned her. She had still not been able to fathom what it was.
She parked her car in the driveway, noting that Donnie's motorcycle was not there. The boy was still out, somewhere, but it was nearing the time when he should be coming home. She would have to speak to him, again, about his late hours. It had been past one in the morning, the last time he was so terribly late. That boy is starting to run wild…! But he's a good boy… Donnie always has been good… but lately, he seems to be getting more and more independent… and rebellious!
The front door lock was stubborn, and she jiggled the key around, trying several times before it finally
