CHAPTER – 54B: Making Amends

We sat and cuddled for a while. Eventually, she stood up, pulled me to my feet, and steered us to the bathroom for a shower. We washed and cleaned up each other, enjoying soapy, slippery fun but not going further than that. After we toweled off, while she was tending to her hair with a hair-dryer, I collected my clothes, and went to the guest room to dress. Putting on a t-shirt and jeans, I began to pack my suitcase for the trip tomorrow. Dana, dressed in her bathrobe, dropped by to check on me.

Seeing me put my dirty clothes and underwear in a nylon bag before placing them in the suitcase, she asked, “What are those?”

“Things I wore in the last few days. I’ll get them washed in the hotel.”

“Take them out. I’ll put them in the washing machine with my stuff,” she said.

“That’s all right, Dana. No need to—”

She grabbed the bag from me without any word, and left the room. I just stood there somewhat stunned for a few seconds before I thought of following her.

“Dana!” I called out, as I chased her in the hallway.

“What?” she retorted without breaking her stride.

“You don’t have to—”

She stopped and turned on her heels. “I know I don’t have to. I want to!” she said. Tilting her head, she added, “Now, may I?”

“Uhh... OK!”

“Good. Now scoot.”

I returned to the guest room and continued packing. Dana returned a few minutes later.

“Are you packed already?” I asked.

She nodded. “Have a few things more.” Seeing me pick up the garment bag, she said, “You don’t need that.”

“I guess I don’t. The suit is ruined. You’d better throw it away.”

“It’s not ruined. When Sarah and I went out yesterday, I took it to a tailor and asked if he could fix it. He said he could. The tears were on the seams, and he thinks he can fix the pants leg, too, but he told me to get them to a dry-cleaner; he didn’t know if the stains could be cleaned. So, I left the pants and the jacket at the dry-cleaner. The dry-cleaner told me they would try, but couldn't promise anything. I’ll pick it up after our vacation, then we'll see.” With a smile, she reached to my chin. “Close your mouth.”

As she was explaining what she did, my jaw had dropped. To tell the truth I had forgotten about my suit, and never expected what she had done. Now, I remembered that she had mentioned she would check if it could be salvaged. I felt my insides fill up with warmth at what she had done. Even though my mom, and sometimes Kathy, took care of me in a similar fashion, I was used to taking care of myself. This was a very pleasant surprise, indeed. Without thinking, I pulled her into my arms, and kissed her forehead, before my lips searched for her lips.

“Thank you, love.” I kissed her again, soundly, tightening my arms around her, before I relaxed my hold.

She returned my kiss softly, but with passion. “You’re welcome.”

Extricating herself from my arms, she took the garment bag, and went to her bedroom, with me following closely behind her. She put it in her wardrobe, telling me she would need it when my suit was returned. While I watched her, she resumed packing her suitcase.

“Do you have sweats?” I asked, and when she nodded, I continued with, “Do you run or jog?”

“Not really. Why?”

“I usually jog or run, in the morning, and sometimes in the afternoon. I was thinking if you...” I trailed off.

She thought about it for a second or two, and then she turned to open a drawer, and pulled out dark blue sweats. Putting them in the suitcase, she searched in the bottom part of her wardrobe for shoes. Holding out a pair of tennis shoes, she asked, “Will these do?”

“Sure. Otherwise, we can always pick up something from a sports store. You sure, you want to run?”

“Why not. It would do me some good,” she replied, while putting the shoes in a nylon bag and placing them in her suitcase. “I’m finished. I only need to pack my toiletries, but I’ll do that in the morning, after the shower.”

“Well, then, let me start on dinner,” I said, leaving her to pick up the room.

I went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove to boil some water to have a cup of herbal tea, before starting on dinner preparations. She came in when I was filling the cups. I looked over my shoulder. She was dressed in panties and one of my wool, button down shirts, the one that I had worn in the past few days; I thought she had put it in the washing machine. Seeing my questioning look, she moved behind me, and wrapped her arms around my belly. She nibbled my ear, making me shiver, and then she said, “Do you mind? I like to smell you on me.”

I shrugged, as I had no clue about why she would feel like that. However, it reminded me how my mom wore my dad’s old shirts when Dad was away.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, not satisfied with my shrug.

“Nope. I just thought it strange. It probably smells of smoke and sweat.”

“It smells of you. Your musk, aftershave, deodorant, and smoke,” she replied softly before she resumed nibbling on my ear, and followed it with little kisses to my neck. “I remember Dad, when I was young. He would carry me to my bed to tuck me in with Mom right behind him. My arms around his neck and the smell of his tweed jacket... pipe tobacco, brandy, aftershave, and wool...” Her voice was soft, dreamy, distant, lost in the childhood memories, reminding me a childhood memory of Mom, of her smell as she hugged us when we arrived at home after school.

I took one of her hands and kissed her palm in lieu of an answer, before turning my head to share a kiss with her. She traced a finger from my temple, along my cheek, down to my chin. Then, her eyes locked into mine, searching for something...

“You’re not my dad,” she said softly, and for a moment, I stiffened as if I was shot. She laughed at my reaction. “I’m not telepathic. I’m just intuitive. Did I scare you?”

“I don’t know,” I replied with a wry grin. “I guess it could get scary if you can read me like that.” My eyes searched her eyes, those dark blue pools that held me captive with their depth of feeling. I felt my shoulders relax, and sag. “I think I know why you did it... and you did it on purpose.”

She arched an eyebrow in question.

“You wanted me to know that you can read me, and that I should get used to it,” I offered.

“Not always... but sometimes it’s easy to read you,” she corrected me, giving a small smile. “It’s part of communicating, getting to know one another. You’re quite intuitive as well.”

I smiled at her reply. “So... what am I thinking now?” I asked pointedly.

“You want me to take my seat before you serve me tea,” she replied, her eyes laughing at me, not mocking me, but challenging me to contradict her. When I didn’t respond, she asked, “Am I right?”

She wasn’t right, but she wasn’t far off the mark as well. “I think that was a demonstration of your power of suggestion.”

That garnered me a tinkling laugh, and a sensuous kiss. She released me, and turned to take her seat at the breakfast nook. I doctored my tea with a bit of sugar, then brought the cups to the table, and took a seat across from her. My mind was still busy with what Kathy did, and now that a little bit of time had passed since I had made a spectacle of myself, I felt like I could ask the question that kept bothering me. While we sipped our tea, I asked Dana if Kathy tried to probe her.

“No, she didn’t,” she answered. She played with her cup as if she was mulling something in her mind. As if she had come to a decision, she put her cup down, and reached to take a hold of my hand. “I think she wanted to ask if there was something bothering you,” she said.

“What made you think she wanted to ask that?”

“I’m not sure. I think she felt uncomfortable with what she did, causing that little argument. Let’s face it, she must have realized that asking me something like that would put me in a rather awkward position, and Kathy isn’t about to do something like that. She was feeling uncomfortable about what had already happened. Maybe if we had known each other a bit longer, she might have come out and asked,” she replied.

“Do you think she’ll probe Sarah?”

“Maybe... I’m not sure. It all depends on what she hears from Sarah. Kathy knows our situation is rather unusual, so she’ll probably wait and hear what Sarah has to say, before she tries to probe her. And in this instance, I think that Sarah will be able to divert Kathy’s attention away from what happened. I don’t think she’ll let Kathy in on anything serious,” she replied slowly, lost in thought.

“But they are best friends,” I countered.

“Honey, you asked Sarah to keep the incident to herself, and I believe she’ll do just that. This is between the three of us, and she knows it. She doesn’t strike me the kind that would blabber things, especially knowing what you and Kathy are like. Do you think she’ll spill the beans?”

“No. No, I don’t think she will.” I sighed tiredly. “I just over-reacted! If I hadn’t Kathy wouldn’t have any reason to suspect anything...” I mumbled.

“Kathy might suspect that things might be a bit awkward between us; after all we have a rather unusual arrangement. There’s no reason for her to suspect anything other than some issues in regards to our triangle.”

I considered what she said, and it seemed very plausible that Kathy might think I was hiding something like that, if I were hiding anything. “Yeah. I think that’s the most plausible thing,” I agreed. I also remembered I mentioned changes were happening in my life, and I knew Kathy got what I meant by that. Perhaps, she would think I was having some difficulty in trying to adapt to those changes. That thought eased my worries considerably. “Yeah, I think she’ll probably think that we are all trying to find our way in this triangle, or that I may be having some personal issues in regards to changes in my life. She knows I haven’t been in a relationship for several years...”

“That’s what I think, too,” she said, and patted my hand. “So, what are we having for dinner?” she asked, changing the subject to something neutral.

I told her the menu: shrimp for starters, steak and rice with stir-fry vegetables.

Finishing my cup, I started on dinner preparations, a mild marinade for the meat with pressed garlic, soy sauce and some herbs. She watched while I worked. I offered her a little bit, and after tasting it, she nodded that I could marinade her steak. I brushed both sides of her steak with the marinade. Then, I added a bit of wasabe powder to the remaining marinade to make it a bit spicy, and applied it to my steak. I prepared two other sauces (dip sauce), one for the steak and the vegetables, and the other for the shrimp. The first dip sauce was a mixture of sesame seeds, sesame oil (paste), soy sauce, and some herbs, with a creamy, light brown color, and the other one was mostly a mixture of soy sauce, sake and other herbs. They were not exactly according to the Japanese recipes, but doctored for my own palate and what I hoped would be for hers. While she cut and diced the various vegetables for the stir-fry, I started on cleaning the shrimp. In half an hour, everything was more or less ready for cooking. The first thing I did was to cook the rice; after I boiled some water in a deep pan, I added a bit of sake, chives, and a pinch of wasabe powder. Using a strainer, I rinsed the rice—my favorite, Basmati rice—to get rid off excessive starch, before I added it into the pan, and turned down the flame to cook it slowly which would allow the grains to swell and make the rice a bit sticky.

I helped her set up the dinner table, and opened a bottle of red wine for her. I decided to drink sake. Although we lacked the proper utensils for the sake, I improvised. She had a wide, deep pan in which I could place a small porcelain kettle. I filled the kettle with sake until it was half-full. Then I filled the pan with water and set it to boil. When the water was hot, I moved the pan onto the electric plate to keep it hot, and placed the porcelain kettle inside th pan. I also placed a porcelain espresso cup next to the kettle; the latter, I would have to make do with to drink the sake! I knew the sake would get warm pretty quickly, and stay warm for a while.

All through this activity, I was aware of Dana watching me from her seat at the breakfast nook. When I finished my preparation and took a short breather, I found her shaking her head with laughter in her eyes, clearly amused with my innovative manner of warming up the sake! I returned a wry grin trying to hide how self-conscious I felt under her scrutiny, which earned me a full-throated laugh.

“Creative,” she commented still chuckling.

I shrugged, and retorted, “Well, you know what they say: ‘necessity is the mother of all inventions!’” which resulted in another round of laughter and chuckles from her.

When the sake was warm, I filled up my cup and joined her in the breakfast nook. I took a sip and closed my eyes in bliss, resorting to a bit of theatrics to demonstrate my pleasure. When I opened my eyes, I found her grinning at me, and shaking her head at my antics.

“How come you like Japanese food?” she asked when she recollected herself.

“It’s a long story... I had tasted some things when I was visiting Mr. Nibori, Hachiro Nibori, my sensei. After our practice, he would prepare tea, and if it were late, he would prepare a light snack. So I got an early introduction to some of the Japanese food. I especially liked the little rice cakes, and some of the sweets he made. I also tasted some of the simple vegetable and meat dishes, but the exotic stuff such as sushi... ugghh! Anyway, I did try, but didn’t really develop a liking for them at the time. It was a couple of years ago, during my trips abroad, that I really came to appreciate Japanese food. In fact, I had my best experience with various Asian dishes in the Netherlands. Tried Chinese food in The Hague, and then started experimenting with others like Indonesian, Thai, Vietnamese, and finally went back to Japanese to try the stuff I tried to avoid in the past.”

“Really? I’m surprised.”

“About what?”

“What you said about Chinese. I would have thought you’d learn about it earlier on. There are quite a few Chinese restaurants, although not any Vietnamese, Thai, or Indonesian.”

“Oh! Well, some things conspired against it,” I replied cryptically.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know this, but I was a picky eater when I was young. Even though Mother is a good cook with extensive repertoire, she’s had some trouble with me.”

“Really? But you seem to enjoy food a lot, even enjoy cooking,” she countered.

“I do, but it’s a later development. You have to understand something. At home, mother cooked all kinds of food. Besides the usual fare, we also had Russian, Greek, Italian, and French dishes. And except for what I had with my sensei, I had no real idea about Asian food. As I said, I found it very different. And here’s something else to think about. There are three major cuisines in the world; Chinese and French are two. The third one is ours, and comparatively, it’s much richer and varied than the others, because it ranges wide, from parts of Asia to Middle East to Europe. When you have such a wide range and variety, why would you go looking for something else, especially when you were young, and a picky eater to boot?”

“Yes, indeed, why would you?” she replied with a small smile. “So what changed?”

“I grew out of that phase for one thing, and I also learned to cook. I had a better appreciation of the effort that went into preparing food.” I grinned at her and added, “But Mother played another very important role along the way. She was very adamant that both Kathy and I had to finish what was on our plates since we were little kids. So, I practiced a lot at home, and that helped me when I had to eat with my sensei... well, most of the time! I was, after all, trying to be polite.”

She laughed. “Oh, you poor baby!”

“Who’s the pot, who’s the kettle, my love?” I retorted.

She tried to shrug it off, but then smiled and said, “I admit, I’m not too keen on Japanese.”

“You’ve been to Japan before. What did you eat during your travels?”

“Mostly the European fare, and sometimes the simple things like vegetable dishes or noodles. Meat is very expensive there. Grilled fish is good, as long as I know what kind of fish it is. I’ve heard of some of the things they eat; things that could poison or kill you.”

I knew the fish dish she was referring to. “Yeah. It’s a very exotic specialty. Personally, I haven’t tried it, and I doubt I’ll try it. My ideas of experimenting or enjoying different foods don’t extend to playing Russian Roulette with them.”

She chuckled at my quip. “So, how do you like the other Asian foods?”

“I enjoy Chinese very much. When I tried it the first time, it hadn’t been a far stretch for my palate to make the leap from some of our dishes to Chinese. Except for the differences in some of the ingredients and cooking style, there are some similarities. Indonesian food was a bit of a challenge. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to cooked fruits, or fruits being mixed into the main dishes, but I know I can eat it. Thai is great, because I love spicy food. However, it does require some getting used to; some of their dishes are just too damn spicy!” I mimicked wiping my forehead with the back of my hand in an ‘it’s damn hot, and makes you sweat’ gesture.

“Oh, yes! It’s very spicy, but tastes great,” she responded. “Which do you prefer?”

“Well... I’ve learned to enjoy most of the Asian cooking. I think if I express a slight preference for Japanese, it’s because I got acquainted with it when I was young, and later I developed an appreciation for what it all entails. It’s very refined, and like all other things Japanese, there’s a painstaking amount of attention to detail, in both preparation and presentation. First, it’s a feast for the eyes, and then, a feast for the palate. And those chefs... they do put on a mean show when they are preparing the food in front of you.”

As I intended my last remark elicited a series of chuckles. “I know what you mean,” she said. “Did you learn anything from your sensei, about how to prepare the food?” she asked with an expectant tone.

I didn’t think she was serious about expecting me to perform like those chefs, not with that glint in her eyes. “You’re wicked!” I retorted. “If I try something like that, I’ll probably end up cutting myself into pieces. Besides, what we’re going to have isn’t really Japanese, but sort of an adaptation. I never studied the proper cooking style, and I hardly use all the correct ingredients. Over the years I managed to pick up some things from my sensei and also by watching the chefs in the restaurants, and then adapted them to my palate.” I decided to tease her back. “But I know how to prepare Sushi! It’s very easy.”

“Oh, no! Not raw fish!” she exclaimed.

I laughed. “You know, I’m going to regret telling you this, but... did you know that I learned to enjoy Sushi, because a Dutch colleague of mine had insisted that I try raw herring?”

“Really?”

“Yep. Most of the Dutch are nuts about raw herring. It was the first time I tried raw fish of any sort. It wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. Food is a rather cultural experience, dictated by what your taste buds are used to. You can learn to enjoy some things, once your palate is trained, but you have to be willing to experiment. I’m willing, but I have my limits. I haven’t tried snails for example. I don’t know if I’ll ever try it. Oh, I know it’s just a gut reaction, and it’s possible I will like it if I try it, but... I think it’s a question of how open you are to new experiences.”

“It is,” Dana agreed. “And when you travel extensively, it widens your horizons.”

“Oh, it does. I know I benefited from the few trips abroad. It’s exhilarating to get to see different cultures, and customs. I’m glad that I had the opportunities I’ve had. I hope that I’ve learned something from them.”

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“What?” I didn’t get her meaning.

“Do you have any doubts that you didn’t learn something? Based on what I’ve come to know of you, of your family, and our talks on various subjects, you and your sister are very cosmopolitan and sophisticated. It—”

“Sophisticated? Me?” I blurted, laughing at her words.

“Yes, you are.”

“My tastes and likes run to simple things, Dana. I’m not—”

“That may be so, but you’re not ignorant or closed minded about things. Kathy and Sarah are the same from what little I gathered about them,” she countered.

“Perhaps,” I said with a shrug.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she came back.

At the back of mind was the uncomfortable reminder of what took place on the phone with Kathy, a little while ago. “Nothing,” I said, because I didn’t want to get into it again.

“It’s not ‘nothing,’” she countered.

“I... I have some rough edges,” I replied.

“Rough edges? Everybody has rough edges. That doesn—” She stopped suddenly as if something else had occurred to her. “Is this about the argument you had with Kathy? Are you still bothered by that?” she asked pointedly.

Damn it! Am I so easy to read?

“Well... I guess it is...”

She shook her head, and said, “Come on, Mitch. We talked about it already. It does happen. Among family, between best friends...”

“I know. But it wasn’t a very good example of my best-sophisticated-self,” I retorted trying to make a joke of it.

She shook her head with a reproving look, but decided to let it go.

I took a last sip from my almost empty cup, and decided to move on. “I think the dinner is almost ready. Let me check the rice.”

We both stood up and moved to the stove. She took out a wide non-stick frying pan and put it on the stove for me to cook the shrimp and the steaks, and another to stir-fry the vegetables. I checked the rice, which was ready. I removed the pan with the porcelain kettle of sake from the stove, and set the electric plate to its lowest setting. After I stirred the rice, I placed a double sheet of paper towel over the pan and closed its cover, then moved the rice pan on to the electric plate to keep it warm and allow the paper towel to absorb most of the excess steam. Hearing a chuckle, I looked over my shoulder, and saw her shook her head in wonder and grin.

“You really know how to cook, don’t you?” she said in answer to my unspoken question.

“I tend to think I’m fairly competent.”

“And modest as well,” she retorted.

I asked for a cover for the large frying pan, which she took out from a cupboard beneath the counter. I waited for the large pan to get hot, while keeping the flame low for the small pan, knowing I would need it hot in a short while for the vegetables.

After a few minutes, she asked, “You’re not going to burn my pans, are you?” with a slightly worried tone.

“Trust me. Your pans will be safe. Just watch.”

I was glad that she had a combi-stove with one electric plate and three gas rings plus a gas oven. I was more used to cooking on gas and I usually used the electric plate to keep things warm.

When the large pan was really hot, I dumped the shrimp into it. In a few seconds, they let out a cloud of steam, and started to sizzle without any oil or butter. I turned down the flame a bit, and stirred the shrimp for half a minute until the steam went away. Then, I added a bit of butter and garlic, and some seasoning, and continued to stir them. I gave it another minute and sprinkled some sake over them, which produced some steam. I covered the pan with a large lid, and turned down the flame a bit more, to let it simmer. Next, I dumped a portion of the vegetables into the small pan, and stirred them, adding a bit of seasoning, and some butter and garlic. After two more minutes of stirring, I turned off the stove, and distributed the shrimp and vegetables onto two serving plates.

“Starters ready. Shall we?”

She nodded and took the plates from me, and I took the condiments and the cups with the dip sauces. After seating her, I ran back to the kitchen to get the kettle with the warm sake, turned off the electric plate, and returned to the table. I filled her wine glass, and my cup, and offered a toast. “To us.”

After we took a sip from our drinks, I waited for her to taste her food, wondering how she would like it. She cut a small piece of her shrimp and tasted it, and followed it with some vegetables. “Mmmm... It’s really great.”

I dug in as well. It was up to my usual standard, but the vegetables were a bit saltier than I expected. I made a mental note to go easy on the seasoning. The shrimp had a slight flavor of the sake, and I was happy that I had managed to keep them from turning into India rubber. She also tried the dip sauce for the vegetables and the shrimp, but wasn’t keen on them, preferring the shrimp as they were. When we were almost finished, I asked how she wanted her steak.

“Rare to medium rare.”

“OK! If you give me ten minutes, I’ll have your steak ready,” I replied, while finishing the last of my plate.

I stood up, and picked up my plate. I was surprised to see her pick up her plate and glass of wine as well, even though she wasn’t finished.

“I’ll accompany you and finish it in the kitchen. I want to see how you cook,” she said.

“Oh! You want to steal my secrets?” I teased her.

“I liked what you did and I’m curious,” she replied.

Back in the kitchen, I ran the hot water at the sink, and picked up the large pan. When the water was hot, I washed the inside of it with only hot water, and closed the tap, then wiped the pan dry with a paper towel. “I just wanted to get rid of the melted butter and any remaining juice from the shrimp,” I explained.

I waited until the big pan was hot, while warming up the small pan. I put the steaks in the pan, and after half a minute, I turned them over, sizzling both sides, before adding a little bit of butter, and letting it melt on the side. I put the flame higher for the small pan. Then I moved the steaks around to distribute the melted butter, and turned the steaks over again. While the steaks were cooking, I dumped the remaining vegetables, and a bit of butter and garlic, and some sake and a pinch of seasoning into the small pan. I turned the steaks again, and put the lid on the large pan. I kept stirring the vegetables. A minute later, I turned off the stove. I served the steaks, vegetables, and added two large spoonfuls of rice to the side on clean set of plates, before we took them to the dining room.

Like the first round, I waited until she cut and took a bite of her meat. Her face lit up, and she said, “This is really good.”

I sampled my steak, and was happy with the result, especially with the slight bite of wasabe enhancing the flavor. I cut a small piece, dipped it into the sesame dip sauce, and offered her a taste, warning her that the meat was a bit spicy.

“It’s really different, but I think I can get used to the taste,” she said. She must have liked the mixture, since she began to use the sesame sauce every now and then with her steak, and more frequently with the vegetables.

This time everything was perfect, even the rice, although she thought it was a bit sticky.

“Sorry. The rice is starchy, and I cooked it so that it will be a bit sticky. That’s the reason why I bought that particular type of rice, instead of others, such as ‘instant-cook’ or ‘easy-cook.’ They don’t have much starch. Before cooking it, you need to wash this particular type of rice longer than I did; that should get rid of most of the starch. Then, use a little bit less water while cooking it. I kinda like sticky rice, and one of my favorite desserts is rice pudding. So, no surprises there. Mom, on the other hand, always manages to cook any kind of rice without getting it sticky. Since I developed a liking for Asian style rice, I prefer to cook it like that,” I explained.

“And your mom is surprised with you?” she asked, making me wonder again about her perception, because I didn’t think I said anything to imply any surprise from my mom.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Was easy. I think she knows, or has seen you cook anything as she does. Kathy told me about your kitchen adventures with your mom. So, knowing that, if you changed the way you cook rice, she must have asked about it, especially because you weren’t messing up the cooking, but cooking it that way on purpose.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She was right about the whole thing.

“OK! Next time, I cook it like she does. I might even treat you to her saffron rice recipe.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. The rice is quite all right. It’s not a big, sticky chunk of gunk. Most people turn it into that,” she replied. “And yes, I would love to taste that. It must be something.”

Shortly at a loss for words, I nodded, and then I managed to say, “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, honey, but I thank you. The dinner is simply, delicious,” she returned.

After finishing the food we continued to chat; she sipped her wine, and I sipped my sake. I had a nice buzz from the drink, and she was aware of it.

“Coffee, dessert?” she asked.

“Sounds good. Any ice cream left?”

“Yes, we have some.” Flashing me a saucy smile, she asked, “How would you like it served?”

“In a cup,” I replied, before I realized she was reminding me of last night’s adventures.

Ignoring me, she continued without any let-up. “C-cup good enough?”

“Ehhh, Goddsss, Dana!” I exclaimed.

“Is there a problem, dear?” she continued to tease me.

“I feel full... what with all the food... I think it’s a bit early for the games.”

“What games? Whatever you mean, darling?” she came back, giving me a wide-eyed innocent look.

“Just remember about paybacks,” I returned.

She dropped her playacting, and instead, flashed me a saucy grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that a promise?”

“Do you really need a promise? You have me wrapped around your little finger whenever you want. You know it.”

“As you do, my darling. As you do, too,” she responded, her voice throaty, full of promise and more.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“You should be,” she said, and blew me a kiss.

I reached to take her hand in mine, and leaning forward, I kissed her palm, and she returned the gesture in the same manner.

“You go ahead, watch TV. Let me put on the coffee, and clean the table,” she said.

When I tried to object, she reminded me that I had cooked, and cleaning up was her job. However, I didn’t listen to her, and helped her clean up the table. While she washed the dishes, I put the coffee on, and then helped her with drying. Finally, we returned to the living room, and checked the TV. We decided on an old movie that was coming shortly on one of the channels: a detective movie with Frank Sinatra and Kim Novak from the mid-50s that sounded interesting. Thus, I settled in the big couch, getting comfortable with Dana snuggled to my side, under my arm.

“You know, we should call Sarah,” Dana said during a commercial break.

I knew she was right, and it almost slipped my mind. The thing was Sarah was having dinner at Kathy’s, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to Kathy after the spat I had earlier on. With a resigned sigh, I made a move to get off the couch, but she pushed me back.

Seeing her attempt to take charge, I decided to take the bull by the horns. “I’ll make the call,” I said. “She should be at Kathy’s still.”

“You sure?” she asked, somewhat surprised at the suddenness of my resolute manner.

As I mulled it over, I knew it was the right thing to do. What’s more I had some bridges to mend, and not only with Kathy but with Dana as well.

Time to do some damage control. Besides, I want to talk to Sarah. I wonder how she’s doing.

I nodded and with a steady tone, I said, “Yeah, I’m sure. I... I owe Kathy, and I want to reassure her, make her happy.”

She smiled in approval and that erased my misgivings and the awkwardness I felt initially. Come to think of it, suddenly, I was looking forward to making that call! I gave an internal chuckle at the realization. I gave myself a mental pat on the shoulder for my astute decision. However, Dana’s response was what made the biggest impact on my mood.

You’re really something, baby! Thanks!

Kathy answered the phone, and as I expected she was surprised to hear my voice again, but this time she probably thought I sounded more pleasant. I teased her about Sarah and her secrets. We talked a little bit about our adventures at the club and Sarah’s singing. I could sense that it did help a lot to relax Kathy, as I kept joking and teasing. For good measure, I mentioned that I had prepared dinner, we had just finished eating, and a full stomach was what I must have needed to get over my earlier cranky mood. Of course, she knew I enjoyed cooking, finding it a relaxing activity, so my comment elicited some laughter from her. She even teased me, telling me I was resorting to underhanded tactics to get a woman. All in all, it was very pleasant, and I was very glad that I could hold up my end. Then, I asked to talk to Sarah, who, of course, was standing next to Kathy, waiting expectantly for her turn at the phone. Of course, Kathy couldn’t resist a final jibe about me having girlfriends at every port, before she relented and allowed Sarah on the phone.

I was a bit anxious wondering how Sarah was doing, so I asked about her trip and her day at the hospital. I teased her about having Kathy worked up with her secrets. She tried to apologize, which led me to believe that Kathy had told her about our spat earlier on. I managed to comfort her, as it hadn’t been her fault, and neither Kathy’s, but my over-reaction due to lack of sleep and tiredness. Of course, she immediately got what I meant, why I would over-react. She managed to let me know our secret was safe, while she played along for Kathy’s sake, and joked about me being an insatiable sex-fiend. I could even hear Kathy’s laughter in the background at Sarah’s teasing.

Before we concluded our conversation, she said, “By the way, you’ve got mail.”

“Mail? From who?” I asked. I didn’t remember giving Kathy’s address to anyone, and usually any mail I had was delivered at my parents.

“From the hospital,” Sarah said.

“Hospi—” I stopped. It just dawned on me what she was talking about. “Oh! You mean my test results?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” I asked not giving it a second thought to what I was asking.

“How the heck should I know?” she retorted.

I didn’t believe her. I thought that Sarah could have easily gotten the information from the lab because she worked at the hospital and had the contacts. Perhaps even get a copy of it. What’s more, she had made the appointment for the tests in the first place, and signed the paperwork as my doctor.

Actually, my reasoning was very much colored by my experience with Kathy and Mom on this particular issue. Kathy always went over my test results, and she did it without waiting for me. In fact, that whole thing with Kathy started a few years back because of a childish prank when she grabbed my mail—my test results—from my hand before I had a chance to open the envelope. Mom was there, too, so she took it from Kathy. But instead of returning it to me, she turned to me and with a very serious expression on her face, she said, “Mitch, I’m worried about you; I want to know how you are doing.” Then, she held the envelope out to Kathy without releasing it, and waited for my response. Well, I read the whole scene as ‘Leave it alone, buster! You owe me some peace of mind!’ in mother-speak. And since Kathy was the only one in the family who was in the medical profession, I didn’t have to guess at who was being given the authority! Or the leeway! (Sigh!) So I shrugged and let it happen. To tell the truth, I didn’t really mind it. It was a reasonable request, and a small concession to Mom that would make her happy. After that one time, Kathy and Mom have been gracious enough to let me open the reports first if I was around, but if I was away... then again, when I felt like it, I could always get indignant about my mail being opened. (Grin!)

Yeah! And mother does have a soft spot for bleeding hearts! She would just loooovvee to pat my shoulder and listen to my grievances with a sympathetic ear! Right? Riiiigght!!!

God! We, Tanners, do love high drama! (Chuckle!)

Anyway, so that was the story behind the medical reports and the reason I accepted or assumed my medical reports would have been checked out already by Kathy or Sarah. With that in mind, I decided to have some fun with both Sarah and Kathy!

“You mean to tell me that Kathy and you didn’t already have a look at them?”

“We would never do anything like that,” Sarah replied with a very indignant tone, but I just caught a bit of amusement in her voice.

Ah-hhaaa! Gottcha! Kathy must have opened it already and she probably told you it was all right. Perhaps, she told you the whole story.

“I know Kathy, my dear. She has gone over all my medical checks. Like Mom, she worries about whether I eat well, get enough rest and such. Besides that, the results of the test affect you and Dana... as well as me,” I said pointedly. “It’s not like it’s a private letter; just a damn report. So?”

Damn! I think I just overdid that last part!

After a short period of silence, she said, “Do you mean that?”

Hearing the tentative and hesitant tone, I paused trying to gauge if I hurt her feelings with my presumptuous teasing. “Sarah, love, I didn’t mean anything bad. I was just pulling your lovely leg.”

She was quick with a come back! “Apart?” she asked solicitously, and I could hear her grin.

God save me from horny, beautiful, clever, and quick thinking women!

“I said leg, my dear, not legs,” I responded. I knew Dana was listening to my end of the conversation, so I turned to her and shook my head, as if complaining about Sarah’s antics. Of course, she quickly figured out where the conversation was leading to, and chuckled.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know you didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I’ll do it willingly,” she came back, her voice throaty, promising forbidden delights.

“And deprive me of the pleasure? Thank you, but no thank you.”

“OK, if that’s what you want,” she said, and paused. “Did you mean it?”

“Of course, I meant it, Sarah.”

“No, you oversexed beast! I meant— I’m talking about the letter, the test results...”

“Oh! Oh! Yes, of course, Sarah. If Kathy didn’t already open it, could you please open it and tell me what’s the verdict?”

I heard Sarah call out to Kathy telling her to get the envelope. If I didn’t know Kathy well, I might have bought it, but with the extra theatrics on the telephone, I was more than a bit suspicious.

Besides, Kathy should have been waiting by the telephone, with the envelop ready in her hand!

I bet they’re adlibbing the whole scene right now!

“Sarah, love?”

“Just a sec... Yeah?” she replied, her voice coming faint and slightly distant.

“You both win the Oscars! For the leading and supporting actress roles. Now, can I hear what the results are... without the theatrics?”

“You! You’re impossible,” she retorted, but didn’t continue as if she was held up by something. Then, I heard the sound of paper being torn.

“And tell Kathy she gets an additional Oscar for the best sound effects,” I added to continue yanking her chain.

Her reply was very indignant. “Shall we call a public notary here before opening it?” Either she was getting comfortable in her role, or she was getting pissed off, but my bet was on the former.

I heard Kathy’s voice in the background. “Mark is here, let him talk to Mitch,” and briefly I thought I made an error of judgment.

Naaah! I don’t buy it!

“Don’t bother calling Mark. He’s probably under duress,” I countered quickly.

It wasn’t important whether they were trying to pull the wool over my eyes or being truthful. This was fun! I was having a ball yanking their chain and watch them hop!

“You, sir, are unbelievable... a real piece of work,” Sarah retorted.

“How are the legs, my dear?” I teased.

“Oh, you!!! I’m going to kill you when I see you,” Sarah replied, but she couldn’t hide that I was having an effect on her. Her voice took on a throaty, sultry quality. “You are in soooo much trouble!”

Oh, man! Talk about a gift horse! You’ve asked for it, Sarah!

“Trouble?” I repeated, rolling the word out slowly. “Is that what you call it?” Before she could reply, I added, “I thought only us guys name you-know-what!”

“Huh?” was her reply, and I realized she didn’t catch my meaning.

To clue her in, I said, “I would have thought you’d name it something like honey-pot or love-box instead of trouble.” Then with a cheeky tone, I continued. “But that doesn’t matter much as long as I get into whatever you name it!”

Before I finished what I was saying, she figured out my meaning and there came an indignant shriek from the other end. “Mitchell Tanner! You’re an absolute beast! You will pay dearly for that!” she threatened with a very serious tone.

Oooopsss! I guess it wasn’t such a good idea after all!

And then, I received a slap on my head from Dana that left no doubt in my mind that I had taken it a bit too far. However, I was enjoying myself too much. I turned to face Dana, and she gave me an admonishing look while she shook her finger in warning, ready to follow up with another slap. “Behave yourself, Mitch,” she said.

“Hey! I was just teasing her,” I replied.

She shook her head. “That’s not teasing. You were being—”

“OK! I was flirting with her!” I interjected hoping to catch her unawares.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You what?” she exclaimed.

“Well... take your pick. Flirt, tease, joke, harass... I mean there are hundreds of—”

“Enough!” she said. “Not one more word!” By then she must have collected herself, because that wide-eyed, surprised look was replaced with a calmer, but appraising look. Then, I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

“What? I’m not supposed to tease you girls? Give me a break. I’m way behind and trying to catch up to you, despite the unequal odds,” I retorted.

I suspect, she wasn’t expecting that right then, and her mouth curled more. She shook her head as if she was wondering if I lost my head, or maybe she was amused by my antics.

While I was having this conversation with Dana, I was also listening to what was going on on the other end of the phoneline. I heard Sarah and Kathy exchanging some words, their voices muffled, then their laughter. Even though I didn’t hear what was being said I got the gist of it. Sarah was explaining to Kathy what I had told her. Then, I heard Kathy’s loud voice. “That brother of mine... Give me that phone.”

“You listen to me carefully, dear brother,” Kathy came on the phone, so I had to turn my attention to her. “If you have a death wish, there are easier ways to go about it. Do you understand?”

“You don’t say! But I doubt there are more enjoyable ways than that.”

“Are you all right? You’re not drunk or something, are you?” Kathy asked with an incredulous tone, as if she were having trouble believing I would continue in the manner I did.

“What is this, Kathy? All three of you ganging up on me? Yeah, even Dana is giving me grief! What’s the problem? Can’t take it? You, among them, should know better than that. There’s no way I’m going to give an inch.” As soon as the words were out, I knew what I was going to say as a follow up! I paused with a grin on my face, “Ummm... Let me rephrase that. Actually, I would like to give... and more than a couple of inches. Pass that on to Sarah.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath at my dig. Kathy came back immediately with, “I’m not going to repeat that to Sarah, but feel free to tell her yourself. Unless, of course, you’re a bigger fool than you sound like. Just do me a favor and let me know. I’ll need some time to make your funeral arrangements. Now, here’s Sarah!” Despite her words, I could hear the laughter in her voice mixed with surprise—probably at my audacity!

She wasn’t alone in that. I could hear Dana breathing heavily—almost snorting—and felt her eyes boring on my back. I tensed up for another slap while waiting for Sarah to come on the phone again. When nothing happened in the next few seconds, I glanced over my shoulder. She had an amused and shocked expression on her face, as if she was seeing me for the first time. When I winked, she collected herself, and glowered at me with disapproval, but... it dissolved quickly, as if she couldn’t find it in herself to stay angry with me. There was also something akin to newfound respect in her eyes at my courage—or foolishness, or audacity, depending on your point of view. Personally, I was feeling great, especially the way I had managed to pull each one of my zingers. Shaking her head, she settled down to watch the developments.

“Kathy said you’ve got some things to tell me,” Sarah came back on the phone, and despite her syrupy tone, I knew she was challenging me. I suspected she expected me to grovel or apologize, but I wasn’t sure if she was teasing me or serious.

I thought furiously how to answer her, when I decided to continue teasing her and see where it took me. “Well... ummm... actually, I was telling her that I won’t surrender or retreat. I am not going to give an inch! As a matter of fact, I’d rather be several inches in trouble than none. Does that meet with your approval?” I asked cheekily.

“I see,” she replied with an ominous tone. There followed a muffled conversation, and I heard Kathy say, “You have my permission,” to Sarah, making sure her voice carried over to my ears.

I was amused with their theatrics, but I also knew it was time for a strategic retreat, in case... “I think Dana wants to talk to you, Sarah. Give my love to everyone. And you, my dear, I nibble on your lovely neck.”

“You chicken-shit! Running already? I got my license to kill you. Next time I see you, you’ll pay for it!” Sarah threatened.

“Wow... Nice to meet you, double-O-seven! You sure it’s not a license for something else? I’m looking forward to it, you sweet talking teaser!” I retorted, which earned me an amused laugh.

“Get out of my sight and let me talk to Dana,” she said, still laughing at me.

By then Dana knew what I did, and could guess at Sarah’s reaction. She made me sweat a few seconds, preventing me from making a hasty exit, but after a few seconds, she relented and took the handset from me. I asked her to extend my apologies and love to both girls.

About ten minutes later, Dana finished talking to Sarah, and came back, snuggling to my side. Giving me kiss on my cheek, she said, “That was from Kathy, and she says your test results were OK.” Then, she pulled me for a hot and wet kiss, dueling with my tongue for almost a minute, before we had to break it to catch our breath. “And that one was from Sarah,” she said. With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “with specific and detailed instructions about how she wanted it delivered.”

“What about you? Don’t I get one from you, too?” I retorted.

“Do I have to?” She grimaced as if the thought of kissing me was something distasteful as biting a rotten apple or something.

“Well, if you don’t want to, then don’t” I said, shrugging my shoulder in a nonchalant manner, and reached for the remote control.

She grabbed my chin and forced me to turn to face her so fast I thought she would break my neck. I guess she didn’t buy my acting. She locked her lips to mine, and went about showing me how she could orally rape my mouth for several seconds, before she changed it into one of her soft, soul kisses that I enjoy so much. When it was over, I was breathing hard, feeling light-headed, and I could hear a rock band drummer in my inner ear—although I suspect it was my heartbeat! This time I pulled her in for a kiss, and returned it, while molesting her breasts under her shirt. She finally broke it with a squeal, and tried to extricate herself from my embrace.

“No dessert? I was just getting ready for some,” I teased her.

“What brought that on?”

“I didn’t start it,” I replied. “If I remember correctly you started it with how you could serve the ice cream right aft—”

“No. I’m not talking about that. The way you kept teasing Sarah?”

Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable. I wondered if she was jealous because of the way I kept teasing Sarah.

“Well, I was teasing you just a moment ago, too,” I said, because I didn’t know how to answer her.

Perhaps I sounded very defensive, because she quickly sobered and said, “Honey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You were there. I mean you saw it. Was I out of line? If I was then—”

She must have guessed what I was thinking or have seen something on my face, because her eyes softened, and she reached to trace a finger along my cheek. “I’m not jealous, Mitch. Just surprised. And curious.”

I knew she was trying to assure me that she wasn’t angry at what I did, but I was still feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. I arched an eyebrow in question.

“Mitch, really. I’m just curious about what brought that on. You really gave her a workout, you know. It was unlike the previous times when we all tease each other. I don’t mean that you crossed over a line or something. It was different.”

“I... uhh... I don’t know. I guess I just felt like teasing her and suddenly I was giving her one jibe after another,” I replied while I thought about what made me do what I did. “Maybe it was because I wanted her to feel our presence there with her...” I trailed off. “I mean she’s playful and all that. You know how Sarah and Kathy are like. And this morning... Sarah was kind of subdued, you know... so I thought...”

“Oh, honey!” she exclaimed. Suddenly her eyes were wide, brimming with emotion. “I... I miss her already, and didn’t even think of how she might be feeling, because she’s with Kathy.” She ran her finger on my cheek lovingly. “Sometimes, you really surprise me, honey. But you did a good job of it. She was laughing up a storm. You were on a roll for a while there, and relentless. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

I smiled a hesitant smile, and said, “What can I say; you girls bring the best out of me.” Before she could say a word, I quickly added, “Or the beast in me,” and pulled her in for a kiss.

“I guess we do,” she said after the kiss.

I was planning to continue my attentions on her, but she escaped my clutches, and went to the kitchen. Before the movie started, she came back, serving some ice cream, and a bit later followed it with coffee. During the movie, she checked the washing machine, and ran the clothes through the dryer. By the time the movie was almost finished, the dryer was finished as well, so during a commercial break, she took the clothes out and dropped them in the bedroom. When the movie finished it was almost half past ten, and we decided to call it a night, knowing that we were going to wake up early. While she was busy in the bedroom with the clothes, I stayed to check the weather report. The forecast was windy and overcast in the morning, and partially sunny in the afternoon, but cold.

I went to the bedroom. Dana had my clean stuff neatly folded and stacked on the bed. I took them and packed them in my suitcase, and joined Dana in the bathroom. After our ablutions, we were in bed, and seeing me keep my boxer shorts on, she gave me a quizzical look. I told her I was feeling a bit tired, and she nodded her understanding, but insisted on having me naked, snuggled to her. I didn’t argue. After a long kiss, she turned onto her side, and I moved to spoon behind her. She pulled my hand, which was resting on her hip, and brought it to cup her tit. I felt her nipple grow erect at my touch, and I knew something else was slowly hardening. She must have felt it, because she moved back against me, rubbing her ass against my awakening cock. I was almost tempted to start making love to her, and began slowly caressing and kneading her tit, but she just moved away to let my erect cock spring up, and scooted back, trapping me between her cheeks. Then she let out a soft sigh and settled back against my body. I realized she just wanted to feel me, so I eased my attention to her tit. We fell asleep.

 

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