She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a face that could have graced any magazine cover. Truth be told, the same could probably be said of innumerable women on the West Coast. (In fact, I had seen quite a few of them at the parties we’d attended the night before.) However, there was something about the woman in the pool, a girl-with-something-extra quality that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Moreover, without even reaching out empathically, I could sense that Smokey felt the same.
Giving us a gorgeous smile, the woman began heading our way, gracefully exiting the pool via a set of stone steps that led down into the water. The effect as she left the pool, however, was more like the mythological Venus rising from the ocean. (Adding to that impression was the bikini she wore, the top of which was designed to look like two seashells.) As she came clear of the water, I couldn’t help but notice that her figure was as flawless as her face.
“Hi, baby,” the woman said as she grabbed a sarong with a floral print from one of the lounge chairs and wrapped it around her waist. “Vestibule.”
Cat and Vestibule greeted the woman with “Hey, Mom” and “Hi, Aunt Capri,” respectively. Cat then gestured towards me and Smokey and introduced us to the woman, whom we already understood to be her mother.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Smokey said, and I expressed a similar sentiment.
“Call me Capri,” she insisted. “Not ‘Mrs.,’ not ‘Miss,’ not ‘ma’am,’ – just Capri. Got it?”
“Yes, ma–” I began, then caught myself as Capri gave me a sideways look. “I mean, yes, Capri.”
Smokey made a similar capitulation, and Capri seemed satisfied. She then looked the two of us up and down before turning to Cat and saying, “Well, which one is the boy you like?”
The bluntness of her question took me completely by surprise, and I picked up on similar emotions from Smokey. To her credit, Cat never missed a beat.
“I didn’t say I liked him,” Cat immediately replied. “I said he was cute. There’s a difference. A cute guy can be a jerk, in which case I probably wouldn’t like him. But to answer your question, it’s Jim.”
Capri looked at me again as if weighing some decision, then turned back to her daughter. “So, is he a nice guy or not?”
“Yes, he’s nice, Mom,” Cat admitted, “but he’s on the rebound, so there’s a question mark as to whether he’s worth pursuing anything with.”
I fought to keep my face impassive, but telepathically I reached out to Vestibule.
<Are you kidding me?!> I mentally roared. <Is there anything you didn’t tell her about me? Social Security number, perhaps? Mother’s maiden name?>
<How do you know it was me?> she retorted. <It could have been Smokey.>
<Except I know Smokey, and he’d never do anything like that.>
<So what – is that like some kind of guy code?>
<Don’t try to change the subject.>
<All right, I admit it,> she muttered in exasperation. <I told her. But you have to understand, she’s my cousin. If she’s interested in a guy and I know something about him, I have to speak up.>
Mentally, I shook my head in despondence and then broke the connection.
“Anyway, we’ll just be over here,” Capri stated, heading for the outdoor living room.
“Wonderful,” Cat said flatly. “When do the rest of the gay divorcees arrive?”
“Any minute,” her mother noted with a smile.
Cat looked as though she had additional commentary, but before she could say anything, a woman wearing a maid’s uniform stepped onto the patio, gesturing to get Capri’s attention.
“Please excuse me,” Capri said before heading towards the maid, who began whispering something in her ear as soon as she was close enough. A moment later, the two of them hurried back into the house.
I waited a few seconds until I was certain Capri was out of earshot, then turned to Cat and said, “So, do you and your mother always speak like that?”
Cat frowned. “Like what?”
“Talk about people who are right in front of you as if they aren’t in the room.”
“Unfortunately, they do,” Vestibule interjected, laughing.
“She’s right to an extent,” Cat admitted. “Mom lacks subtlety and has no filter. I’ve learned to respond bluntly as a coping mechanism. It was either that, or be perpetually embarrassed by the things she says.”
“I can’t imagine what that must be like,” Smokey commented.
“You get used to it,” Cat said with a shrug. “Come on.”
She then began walking towards the pool, with the rest of us following her. A few seconds later, she stopped in front of a couple of the lounge chairs.
“Okay, you guys can go change in the pool house,” she said, pointing to the building I’d noticed earlier.
“What about you two?” Smokey asked.
In response, Cat reached down with both hands and began lifting the sundress over her head. At the same time, Vestibule began untying the front of her shirt.
Eyes wide in surprise, I shared a glance with Smokey and realized that he – like me – was wondering if we’d somehow wandered into a scenario we’d only heard about in movies. A moment later, I found myself relaxing as I realized that Cat had a bikini on under her dress. Likewise, Vestibule was wearing swim gear under her clothes.
“Why are you two just standing there?” Cat asked as she tossed her dress on the lounge chair. “Go change – unless you want to be pushed into the pool with your clothes and shoes on.”
“Hmmm,” Smokey droned. “Seems your mother isn’t the only one lacking subtlety.”
We all laughed at that, and then Smokey and I headed to the pool house.
Chapter 11
The pool house was actually more like a guest suite, with a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, etcetera. Smokey and I quickly changed into our swimming trunks, and then hurried back out to the pool.
We spent roughly the next hour engaged in various forms of horseplay with the girls: doing belly flops into the pool, splashing one another with water, playing Marco Polo… It was incredibly
