The Wager Read online

  Tyler pulled the ball out of Inferno's mouth and threw it down the beach. Both dogs shot after it.

  Honey felt herself feeling an odd mixture of pleasure and fear again. She realised she was in a sweat from contact with Tyler's physical presence for so long a time.

  "That old boy is far too attractive, I shouldn't be speaking to him again," Honey tried to regain some semblance of her normal coolness toward men she felt herself strongly drawn to.

  "There's a Dixieland Jazz concert at the Patriot next Saturday."

  Would you allow me to escort you there?"

  His invitation did something to Honey.

  "Subconscious longings," she decided. "He's tapping into desire energy from long ago."

  "Saturday at six o'clock. I'll pick you up." Tyler took her silence as assent as Gloria and Turk joined them with an assortment of dogs including Dogzilla, Trump, Inuvik and Gigi.

  Honey tried to say "No" but felt her head nod affirmatively. She felt greatly relieved as Tyler kept an acceptable distance between them as they ambled off with the others and the dogs toward the parking lot.

  "I'm going to have to take a cold shower when I get home," the former lounge owner told herself. "And before he turns up to take me to the concert."

  Honey's disturbed mind told her that she was vacillating between eager anticipation of Tyler's attentions and fear of the abandonment that had so often occurred in the past as attractive men had only been interested in short-term affairs.

  "If anyone is emotionally unavailable, I bet it's he," Honey's mind told her. "But it's only a month to Christmas. The bet just says a month. Surely I can hold on to him that long."

  Honey reminded herself that the college fund could make good use of the money.

  Back at her house Honey was tempted to call Tyler and cancel their date. She confided her problem to her daughter, Charlotte, who lived with her and quickly wished she had not.

  "How could you think of dating a Caucasian, Mother? You must be losing it."

  Honey told her daughter that Tyler's race was not the problem but that his considerable sex appeal was.

  "Who is this man, anyway?"

  Honey told her that he was the local Funeral Director, that he was all of ninety years old and had never been married.

  "Ninety years old! What are you doing, mother, rescuing a senior from some seniors centre like you rescued Bourbon from the dog pound? You've got to stop being so compassionate."

  Honey protested that Tyler was not a rescue senior. She tried to get Charlotte to understand that every time she had felt extreme attraction to a man it had ended badly. Charlotte kept missing the main point.

  "White, ninety years old, a funeral director, never been married," y'all have lost your marbles! I'm going to get a one way ticket for you to New Orleans before you do something y'all regret for the rest of your life. What could y'all possibly have in common with this man?"

  "Tyler loves dogs, New Orleans, Jazz, like I do and his voice and physical presence do something to me," Honey protested. "But that's not the problem."

  "I'll say it's not! Y'all have got to see a shrink, Mother. Your personality is starting to fracture, I'm sure of it."

  "I'll have a compatibility Astrological analysis done," her mood brightening as she thought of it. "That will get at the reasons for such a strong attraction."

  "Use a shrink instead, Mother! Maybe a psychiatrist can

  find out whatever bizarre reason you are attracted to a Funeral Director of all things. And one close to twenty-five years older than you."

  "Didn't y'all hear about the late play write Arthur Miller and his latest and last love. She was a thirty-five-year-old artist and he was eighty-nine. That's what it's like with creative people, y'know. They talked for hours every day for months after they met. That's what happens when I'm with Tyler. I think I'm in love with the man."

  "Y'all and that funeral director are not creative people. And how long did that Arthur Miller romance last?"

  "It's lasted over two years until his death. Only one of my marriages ever lasted that long."

  "Maybe you've developed a father complex?"

  "My feelings toward Tyler are not daughterly, I can assure y'all." Honey went upstairs to contact her favourite Astrologist. Honey could feel her daughter's strong disapproval following her.

  "Just because she's studying Psychology," Honey mused. "Personality fracture be damned. It's a Mars-Venus thing, I'm sure."

  CHAPTER 8.

  Virgie and Frank.

  Virginia Kelly found herself dressing more carefully than usual as she prepared to go to the first rehearsal for next month's Church Christmas Concert. She knew that Frank Simpson would be there accompanying the choir and she wanted to look her best.

  "I don't know about Gloria's wager," Virginia mused. Some part of her mind still told her the bet was connected to the Devil but another part of her mind reminded her that the church could make good use of sixty thousand dollars. It also told her that it would be better for Frank if she was the one that managed to interest him rather than worldly woman like Honey Pratt or Gloria Gustafson. Some part of her mind whispered that Honey in particular, coming from New Orleans, and maybe even Gloria, with her Hollywood morals, might be into Bondage practices or something even worse.

  "Frank would be safer with me," she decided.

  "I had better wear something other than black," she told herself. "It's about time I left the clothes behind that tell the world I was a wife of a minister."

  Virgie found herself ploughing through all three closets in her bedroom in her search for something appealing. She found herself forming a huge pile of navy blue, brown and black clothes for the local consignment shop. Finally she located a pastel pink suit with a very feminine, white linen blouse and threw them on.

  "Thank goodness," Virgie gave a sigh of relief as she added a black pearl necklace and earings that had been one of the few luxury items of jewelry that her austere, minister husband had allowed her in a rare moment of indulgence.

  Virgie realised that her mind was extremely fuzzy. "Why am I so excited," she asked herself, at seeing Frank again, even if it is in the context of the upcoming Christmas concert. A strange mixture of thoughts was going through her mind. A sudden burst of insight told her that the excitement was from the thought of talking to an attractive, music-minded person of the opposite sex but Virgie immediately repressed such a thing.

  "Of course it's the wager," she told herself, "the church could really use the money. But Frank is so good looking and we have music in common. Maybe he is ready now for a new love."

  Virgie emitted a deep sigh as she headed for the door as reality set in. "After all he is three years younger than I am. He's probably chasing women twenty years younger than I but I'll give it a try. The Church does need the organ."

  Virgie's little Boston Bull Dog, Lazarus, barked with displeasure as his mistress reached the front door. Lazarus hated to be left behind.

  "Tomorrow Laz. We'll walk in the morning." Virgie could hear Lazarus whine as she closed the door.

  "Maybe tomorrow at the dog walking group I could manage to walk beside Frank and his Blue Healer, Mozart?" Virginia suddenly plotted. "I'll even ask him today if he wants to meet before the walk."

  Frank Simpson was at the church early. He glanced around at the ladies already gathering for the choir practice as he sat down at the piano and set up his music on the stand.

  Frank realised that he felt more alive now that the choir was meeting more often for the concert.

  "I've been spending much too much time at home alone," he decided.

  Frank knew that his wife's death from an undetected heart condition at sixty-five had caused him to go inward. But he was glad that he had spent the last eight years concentrating on nothing but his music. He had managed to compose many new classical and popular pieces that were being considered for publication by music publishers.

  "Well, I do watch erotic videos quite often," Fra
nk admitted to himself. "After all I made that vow when Angie died. That I'd never form another relationship with a woman again. That I'd never again risk the pain of losing someone I adored like I did Angie."

  Frank rationalised that a man had to do something to satisfy his sexual urges.

  "And besides, I find it extremely easy to compose original music scores after watching erotic videos."

  "It's just that I'm sublimating my sexual urges," he rationalized, as at the same time he worried about the gradual increase in his erotic magazine subscriptions and video purchases over the years. Frank was a religious man and was not sure that God or his minister would approve of those activities.

  "At least there's Mozart," Frank mused. "Thank heavens I bought the dog several days after Angie died. He's been such a great companion. If I didn't have him I probably wouldn't even get out for physical exercise at all."

  Frank continued to wonder why he felt so much better. He had taken Mozart along the sea wall that morning with several of the men in the dog walking group and the blue in the ocean

  and sky seemed far more intense than he had ever known it. He even noticed for the first time the patterns that the sunlight and the clouds made on the mountains in the distance.

  "It's like I've come through to the light at the end of the tunnel," the organist realised.

  Frank's musing came to an end as he spotted Virgie Kelly entering the Church Hall. Frank did a double take.

  "She's looking years younger; it must be that pastel pink suit."

  Frank inhaled deeply in astonishment and took a closer look at one of his old friends. Virgie's husband and he had been dear friends. For the first time Frank realised that Virginia Kelly, his friend's widow, was a generously endowed, classic beauty.

  "It's her cheekbones," he thought. "Classic and she looks years younger than her age." Frank noticed an unexpected warm feeling shoot through his heart as Virgie spotted him at the piano and moved in his direction.

  "My God! Frank censured himself as he realised he was staring at Virginia's generous endowment. "She must be a forty, double D, at least."

  "Good evening Frank," the organist's body reacted to the warmth in her voice as Virgie addressed him.

  "You look lovely, Virginia," Frank could not believe himself. "That suit and blouse suit you to a 'T'." A part of Frank's mind urged him to ask Virgie out.

  "Why thank you, you look very handsome yourself in that sports coat."

  Virgie started as she noticed the leader of the choir coming into the room. He was signalling that the choir practice was about to begin.

  "Would you and Mozart like to walk with Lazarus and me

  tomorrow morning?" Virgie forced herself to ask, thinking of the need for the church to replace its organ.

  Frank found himself arguing internally with the side of his mind urging him to hit on Virginia.

  "What about my vow?" he argued with himself. "But she's so voluptuous. And she's a widow. Surely God wouldn't mind if I spent some time with her. After all she is a devout Christian." Frank impulsively made a decision he worried about later.

  "Why, thank you Virginia, I usually walk with some of the men but let's meet early then at 7:15 a.m. at the start of the dog walk."

  Virginia nodded discreetly as choir members formed around them and both her and Frank felt strange sensations going through their bodies as they arranged to meet.

  "Gloria's right," Virginia mused. "I feel twenty years younger. The secret of youth must be sex or at least romance. I wonder where this is all going to lead." She tried to think of what she could possibly wear in the morning. "A ny t h i ng but black," she decided.

  As he got home, Frank ignored his dog Mozart trying to engage him in playing tug and went through his collection of sports jackets looking for something that would appeal to Virginia.

  "What about my vow?" Frank argued with himself. "Heavens, I'm only going to talk with the woman in a public place."

  "That green sports jacket," he decided. "With a turtleneck, and I'll ask her out for lunch." Frank stared at his large collection of suits and ties with distaste.

  "I really do need to go through these clothes," he acknowledged. "Too much black, navy blue and Grey. And all these suits and ties. They're not even worn much anymore."

  Frank vowed to donate many of the expensive clothes to charity.

  "I'll visit the new men's store at the mall," he decided. "That store has male fashions that are up to date." He stared at his collection of Playboy magazines and took a good look at what the men were wearing.

  "I wonder if by some miracle Virgie would be up to watching some of these videos," he wondered as he stared at his large collection in his bookcase. "Can't take a chance on that, yet," he decided. "She is very religious after all. Might have to warm her up slowly. What am I thinking? I'm just going to talk to her and maybe have lunch."

  Late the next afternoon Frank found himself ignoring the scratching of his dog, Mozart, and the whining the dog was making when his owner did not come immediately to let him in as he normally did. He was too busy passionately embracing Virginia on the comfortable chesterfield in his den. He had brought Virgie to his home in the pretext of rehearsing one of the numbers him and Virgie were doing for the Christmas concert. Things had gone so well he had wound up giving the lovely lady a kiss on her lips and one thing had led to another. Feeling her readiness, he had taken a chance and shown Virgie one of his erotic videos. Seeing the video had turned both of them on and Frank tried to calm himself as he realised Virgie was starting to undo his belt and zipper.

  "What if you get really fond of her and she dies?" some part of his mind questioned. Virgie felt under his boxer shorts and Frank did not care what the answer to the question was. He pulled Virgie on top of him and started to undo her blouse.

  "What about a condom?" Virgie somehow managed to worry about transmittable sexual diseases.

  "There's no need," he groaned as she moved even closer

  against him. He removed her bra and then her skirt. "I haven't had sex since Angie's death. What about you?"

  Frank listened as Virgie told him that she had not had sex of any kind since her husband's death. He seized her tenderly and inserted himself into her.

  "What am I doing?" some part of his mind briefly questioned his action but fell silent as Virgie provided him with some expert vaginal stimulation.

  "My God," he thought, gasping with excitement. "This beats erotic videos all to Hell."

  By the time Mozart was finally let in the front door Frank was eminently happy that he had made the decision to let a woman back into his life. Virgie was all but glowing and Frank realised that both of them had released an astounding amount of sexual repression in just one session of intense love making.

  "Tomorrow," he asked her as he walked her to her car. "We'll walk the dogs together again at the dog park.

  "I'm sure God wouldn't mind," Virgie assured him. He kissed her soundly again as she was getting into the car not even caring whether God minded or not.

  CHAPTER 9.

  Boxing Match.

  Lorne Brooks found himself staring at Monica Mason's impressive physical attributes as she sat next to him in the smoke-filled boxing arena. Monica was wearing a tight fitting top and her expensive, satin pants revealed her well-muscled torso and upper body. Male boxing fans were staring at her in appreciation as she egged on the favourite at the championship boxing match they were watching.

  "No wonder Malcolm dates her," Lorne thought as he experienced considerable jealousy at his uncle's successful promiscuity. "It's like this with everything. Malcolm is always the one to get the women, the money, the business deals, and the admiration of the Board of Directors rather than me, and before me, my father."

  Lorne's jealousy of his uncle got even more pronounced when he thought of his own father's early retirement.

  "He could never compete successfully with Malcolm either," Lorne realised. "That's why he retired early."

&n
bsp; He mused about the injustice of his side of the family always being given the short end of the business the brothers inherited from his grandfather. His anger rose as he went over in his mind his father's early retirement and decline in mental functioning to the point he had to be placed into a nursing home.

  "Alzheimer's, the doctors said. The doctors gave his father

  only a few more years of deteriorated living. More anger struck as Lorne realised that his father's continuing deterioration was destroying his mother.

  "Alzheimer's is a genetic condition," Lorne thought. "Good chance that Malcolm is developing it too. I just have to find some evidence for the Board of Directors."

  "So Monica?" minutes later Lorne decided to probe Malcolm's latest love about his relative as Round three ended and the fghter's trainers attempted to revive the rapidly exhausting boxers. "What's it like dating my uncle? He's more than half a lifetime older than you."

  Lorne's voice was loud as he was speaking above the boxing commentator's voice. The commentator suddenly stopped speaking just as Lorne asked his question and boxing fans around Lorne nudged each other, pointed at the sexy lady Lorne was talking to, and eagerly waited for her answer.

  "Actually Malcolm's been very good to me," Lorne didn't like Monica's answer at all but the boxing fans within hearing range became even more curious. They craned their necks toward Lorne and Monica.

  More jealousy rose to the surface in Lorne's mind as Monica elaborated on her answer.

  "Malcolm's the person that got me into the Montgomery agency. I'll always be grateful for that."

  "What about his performance in bed?" Lorne demanded loudly, desperate to find something indicating Malcolm was showing his age.

  Several of the boxing fans moved closer and two got up and stood at the end of Lorne's row pretending they were discussing something.

  "Surely a man that old can't satisfy you sexually?"

  There was almost a movement of rows of people down toward Monica.

  "Actually, Malcolm's very good at it, " Monica testified to Lorne's increased discomfort and the delight of the boxing fans within hearing distance. "He's very experienced, you know. Know's all the moves. He's taught me a lot." Lorne choked and the boxing fans sighed. Round four started before Lorne could get Monica to be a little more explicit. Lorne was forced to wait for the end of the round before proceeding.