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Chapter 26 Date Night
“Blow,” asked Adriana offering Stacy a small glass straw. The glass countertop contained several lines of white powder. Moments before Zack handed a phial of cocaine to Wynona, his date for the evening. Wynona, in Stacy’s view, was not only drop dead gorgeous with an amazing body, but her skill at cunilingus rivaled Portia’s.
She liked to show off her oral skill by placing a maraschino cherry in her mouth and tying the stem in a knot with her tongue. Stacy and Wynona enjoyed a mutual erotic attraction. Both anticipated having their head between each other’s legs before the evening was over. There was a double-ended eighteen-inch dildo in Stacy’s bag to make things interesting.
Stacy along with Adriana, Wynona, Carmen, Elena, and a new girl named Chloe who was Mark’s date were in the well-appointed Ladies Room at an upscale restaurant and lounge named Surf Side. The restaurant was located on the Revere Beach parkway and there was a constant stream of slow traffic drowning out the sound of the ocean. It was Friday night and as usual the Posse was at the Surf Side with their girl friends.
“No thanks, Adriana, I’m going to be drug tested next week. A little marijuana is okay but serious drugs would get me disqualified,” said Stacy. Stacy had reservation to fly to Houston the following week to compete for a place on the Women’s Olympic Skeet Shooting Team. Stacy was smoking a joint Portia had neatly rolled and placed in her handbag.
Heaven knows I need a break thought Stacy. School would start again in another month. After her misadventure with the Ladies of Leather, matters had calmed down. She’d felt fully recovered in three days. Portia and she had treated Dr. Myers to an uninhibited, no limits, three way that lasted the afternoon. Stacy had been surprised when the Doctor eagerly accepted Portia’s suggestion Stacy don her strap on cock and pound his ass while Portia perform orally on his penis.
So this is what its like to fuck somebody thought Stacy as she repeatedly plunged the faux penis into Gary’s rectum. He and Portia were in a tight sixty-nine clinch with the Doctor on top when Stacy positioned the dildo head at the center of his sphincter. Seconds later she was wedging herself between his buttocks to maximize penetration. Holding onto his muscular flanks she assumed the masculine role, enjoying the temporary sensation of male superiority until the Doctor announced he had dropped his load in Portia’s mouth and needed rest. Stacy promptly impaled Portia with the strapon. The Doctor watched as the two orally shared his fluids.
Stacy’s relation with Mike had settled into a routine of a date on Friday night supplemented by the frequent summon to the apartment for what Portia referred to as a booty call. Mike would text a cryptic message summoning her to the apartment for sex that ranged from a quick blowjob to hours of love making in every conceivable position.
Stacy was looking forward to spending two weeks at the National Skeet Center in Houston. It would give her a much-needed vacation from Mike Cabreeze and the insanity associated with being his girl.
Stacy watched as each of the five inhaled the cocaine into both nostrils. During the last two months, she’d witnessed a similar scene many times. The girls blinked and rubbed their noses as their eyes filled with tears. The powerful drug passed quickly into their blood stream to produce the rush of excitement and euphoria associated with cocaine. Everyone was now energized and ready to party.
Since she met Mike, she’d noticed the Posse members and their girl friends had increased their use of drugs. Mike had begun to reach in his pocket for a pharmacist’s plastic container and take two white tablets.
“He’s too smart to carry illegal drugs,” said Portia when Stacy asked her opinion. “A pill roller writes him prescriptions for Vicodin or Percoset.”
“What is he doing something stupid like that,” asked Stacy?
Portia had thought for a while when Stacy mentioned the drugs then commented. “Drugs cause criminals to eventually spin out of control. There’s a tremendous amount of pressure in the criminal world. I’ve seen it before among the street gangs in Trenton. They think the drugs help them deal with the stress but they really make it worse by increasing their paranoia. We’ve got to find a way to get you out of there.”
“But how,” asked Stacy her head resting on Portia’s shoulder?
“We have to be patient. Something will turn up eventually.”
The female members of the Posse had started using harder drugs. In the restroom’s large handicap stall, Stacy had watched Wynona mix cocaine and heroin, heat it to its melting point, and draw it into a syringe. Stacy marveled as convent-raised Adriana eagerly raised her skirt to expose her inner thigh to Wynona’s syringe. Wynona injected a speedball in all of the women except Stacy.
There were moments when Stacy wondered how much longer before she started on the hard stuff. The thought of getting high and not giving a shit about what she might be asked to do when they arrived back at the apartment had a strong appeal. Mike took pleasure in humiliating her in front of the others. It was always Stacy who wound up with semen dripping off her face or being made to suck jism out of another’s girl’s rectum. Fortunately, for reasons Portia attributed to the reverence of the average American male for sports and the Olympics, Mike had never pressed her to take drugs.
Surf Side’s cuisine was almost exclusively Italian as were its customers. The owner and manager, Tony DeMarco, was a friend of Mike’s. They had grown up together. Based on the way, Tony treated Mike and the Posse; the relationship appeared to be more than one of restaurateur and customer. Portia believed Mike could be a silent partner in the establishment even though her research of the incorporation papers showed one Anthony Francis DeMarco to be the sole owner.
The girls had been dancing together while the men were clustered at their usual corner table. Most of the time, the girls danced with one another while the men sat and talked. There was a constant parade of other men stopping by to say hello to Mike and whisper a few words in his ear. In a sense it reminded Stacy of a king holding court. As Mike’s girl, she was accorded a certain amount of deference from the other females but not the males.
There was a ritual to each Friday at Surf Side. Tony always greeted Mike at the door with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. His greeting of the other men was only slightly less restrained. He politely acknowledged the women. That seemed surprising. Tony struck Stacy as a ladies man and he and Luciana, the attractive hostess seemed to have something going on. He was good-looking and the Posse’s females were real beauties. He was polite and differential to them but kept his distance. The Posse would then go to the far end of the bar to pay their respects to an elderly gentleman who was always accompanied by two very serious males that Stacy took to be his bodyguards. She watched in amazement on her first visit as Mike kissed the old man’s hand.
“Who was the older man? Why did everybody kiss his hand?” asked Stacy when Mike was driving her back to the apartment.
“Ever hear the one about curiosity killing the cat.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t ask questions. I’ll tell you what you need to know,” said Mike.
Tonight, Stacy had noticed his mood seemed tense when she met Mike at the apartment. He hadn’t gone through his usual careful inspection of Stacy’s appearance. Mike had definite ideas on how Stacy should dress. Failure to meet his approval resulted in her being sent back to the condo for something different to wear. Mike’s normal means of communicating his disapproval was to slap her hard then twist her arm behind her back until she begged him to stop. Once he ripped her dress off and she had to drive home in her underwear.
Stacy worked hard at pleasing him. Before Mike Cabreeze came into her life, she considered herself one of those women who paid little attention to clothes and make-up. From her childhood her mother had drilled into her female beauty was a quickly passing phase in youth obsessed America. She should concentrate on gaining a good education that would last a lifetime. Something of a tomboy who spent her free time at the skeet range, she’d owned mainly jeans and tops. Mike changed all that overnight.
Now Stacy spent hours shopping in the boutiques on Boston’s ultra-hip Newbury Street. The recent movement out of the dorm provided the luxury of an enormous walk in closet. She was rapidly filling it up with expensive clothes. For the first time in her life, she ordered subscriptions to fashion magazines and had a standing appointment at the most expensive hair stylists on Newbury Street. Her parents had been surprised at the transformation of their daughter but they paid the bills and didn’t complain.
Her mother was convinced she was having an affair with a wealthy married man. Two weeks before she had confirmed her suspicions. Stacy was on the way to meet Mike but had to drop off some documents she’d signed having to do with her trust fund.
“My God, Doreen, could that be our daughter,” said her father when Stacy rushed in to hand him the papers?
She was wearing a Prada cocktail dress. Her hair had been styled. Her bag and shoes matched the dress perfectly. Stacy was aware she turned heads in the dress. But that was what Mike wanted.
“Are those Grandmother Todd’s diamonds,” asked her mother noting the sparkling earrings, necklace, and bracelet?
“Yes, I didn’t see any point in letting then sit in a safe deposit box,” said Stacy.
“You look very beautiful. What kind of a man deserves you?” said her father.
“It’s just a date,” said Stacy handing him the documents.
“I hope you know what you’re doing. Married men never leave their wives,” said her mother when they had a moment alone.
“Mother, don’t start. I’ve got to run,” said Stacy leaving quickly before they got into a row.
“You’re my girl and I expect you to turn heads everywhere you go but especially when you’re with me,” said Mike when they first started going out. He’d just slapped Stacy hard for wearing the same dress she’d worn before. He’d said she looked good in it so she made the mistake of assuming he would like to see her in it again. Instead he became furious others would see her wearing the same dress.
After he slapped her, he spun her around. He grabbed her wrist pulling her arm behind her back as he forced her to the floor. She thought her arm was going to break as he reached down to force her face to the top of his shoes.
“Kiss them,” said Mike.
“What,” asked an uncomprehending Stacy.
“I said kiss my shoes, you stupid cunt. Lick them.”
“You’re going to break my arm.”
“You fuck up again and I’ll break both your arms and legs. Now lick my shoes. Put that whore’s tongue to the leather or so help me I’ll break it off,” said Mike twisting Stacy’s arm further.
Stacy tasted the oily smell of shoe polish as she licked the tops of Mike’s loafers.
When she finished, Mike hauled her back to her feet. “You got forty five minutes to get back to your place, change, and get back here. If you’re not on time or you’re wearing some piece of shit, I’m going to whip your butt till it bleeds.”
“One day I’m going to kill that mother fucker,” said a near hysterical Stacy when she came flying into the condo. Portia immediately quit practicing to help Stacy redress. Strangely enough, the rest of the evening had gone smoothly ending as usual in an orgy of group sex back at the apartment.
But tonight, Mike and the others seemed pre-occupied. They paid little attention to the girls. Carmen and Elena, the girlfriends of the Epps brothers arrived without their dates. That was unusual. When Stacy discreetly asked about the brothers, Carmen said they were busy elsewhere but would arrive soon.
Later, when the girls were on the dance floor, Stacy saw Bobby and Brad enter. Bobby spoke briefly to Mike then the three of them left the dining room passing through a door marked Employees Only.
I shouldn’t do this thought Stacy as she followed the three. Mike will beat the shit out of me if he catches me. Maybe I can lie and pretend to be drunk and horny. Who am I kidding? He’d never believe that.
Stacy found herself at the top of a steep flight of steps. She removed her shoes aware stiletto heels would make too much noise on the wooden steps. Moving slowly she managed to make it to the bottom with a few barely audible sounds. When she stepped off the bottom step, she was in the basement. The restaurant was built in two parts. One part was an older renovated beach house that served as the office and living quarters for the owner. The other larger and newer part was the restaurant and lounge. Stacy realized she was in the basement of the beach house. Surf Side was built into a slight elevation. The main entrance and top floor was level with the beach road in front of the restaurant. But one could drive around the building and park at the lower basement level.
The dimly lit full basement was almost empty except for some no longer used kitchen equipment. She saw light from a door on the far side of the room. Stacy walked quietly across the cold concrete floor toward the light. Two semi-finished walls and the basement corner had been used to build a room. Whoever had constructed the room had done a poor job. The walls were unfinished studs and plywood. Stacy saw light passing through a crack between two sheets of plywood. She moved close enough to look.
Mike and the Epps brothers were standing over a young couple seated in straight chairs. Stacy guessed their age as late twenties to mid thirties. She had never seen either of them before. The odd thing was that they were dressed as if they had been on a beach or out on a lake.
The man was wearing a pair of flowered bathing trunks that reached to his knees, the woman a bikini. Stacy saw she had a good well-tanned figure. When Bobby stepped to the side, Stacy could see that the couple was handcuffed to the chairs.
“Robbie, you’ve disappointed me,” said Mike standing over the man.
“Mike, I swear on my mother’s grave, I put the money in the bag and gave it to Mendez,” said Robbie.
“He’s telling the truth, Mike. I saw him do it. Mendez emptied the bag before he brought it to you,” said the woman.
“Mendez said he didn’t open the bag, Alisha,” said Mike. “And I believe him.”
“Mike, you believe a lousy Puerto Rican over someone who grew up with you. Mike, come on now. We both graduated high school together. We’re Revere Patriots,” said Robbie sounding increasingly desperate.
“It’s been a tough season for the point spread in the NBA finals,” said Mike.
Stacy vaguely recalled professional basketball playoffs had been in the sports news lately. The Boston Celtics had been quickly eliminated infuriating local fans.
“I lost a few bucks,” said Robbie looking increasingly worried.
“A few, you call $48,000 a few,” said Mike.
“I was just looking to make some extra cash. I got this buddy who knows one of the trainers,” said Robbie. “But the guy was a fuck up. His tips were lousy. That’s not my fault.”
“Shut the fuck up, Robbie,” screamed Alisha.
“You know, Alisha, when you open your mouth, you have beautiful white teeth. You must go to one of those dentists who whitens them,” said Mike walking over to a table placed against the wall right where Stacy was hiding. She held her breath as Mike hesitated a moment looking almost directly at her. God, he can sense I’m here thought Stacy on the verge of panic holding her breath. But Mike picked up a pair of common pliers and walked back toward the pair.
“Doctor Edmonds does it. He’s good. Come on, Mike. Robbie will make up the missing money. I’ll make sure he’s good for it,” said Alisha.
“Hold her, Bobby,” said Mike.
Bobby wrapped one arm around Alisha’s forehead. He grabbed her chin with his other hand and slowly forced the struggling and screaming woman’s mouth open.
“Don’t Mike, for the love of Christ, don’t,” screamed Robbie.
“I considered being a dentist when I attended Career Day at Revere High,” said Mike capturing one of Alisha’s front teeth in the pliers.
With her mouth open Alisha couldn’t scream but her struggles showed the pain was awful.
“Oh God no,” sobbed Robbie as Mike slowly pulled out one of Alisha’s front teeth.
“And old time dentist had strong hands. Teeth have deep roots and they’re curved around the jaw bone,” said Mike wiggling the pliers back and forth as he eased the bloody tooth out of the socket. Mike examined it for a second then allowed it to drop on the floor. It made a clicking sound when it landed and rolled away. Blood was cascading down Alisha’s chin onto the top of her breasts.
Mike went back to work with the pliers. There was an audible crack.
“Fucker broke off,” said Mike as he dropped the bloody top of a tooth to the floor. “Open her mouth wider. I’m going for a molar.”
“Mike, I fucked up. I’m sorry. You know what a fuck up I can be. You used to call me that when we went to school, Robbie the fuck up. Please, I’m begging you,” said Robbie breaking into loud sobs.
Mike ignored Robbie’s pleas. Alisha’s struggles grew quieter then she passed out. Stacy watched as Mike littered the floor with Alisha’s teeth. After the first two, the extractions went faster. When he stepped away, Stacy had a direct view of Alisha’s open mouth. Almost all of her front teeth were missing.
“My arm’s getting tired,” said Mike handing the pliers to Bobby.
“Nothing left but a few broken stumps,” said Bobby after a few several minutes of amateur dentistry. She was unconscious blowing red bubbles as she moaned. In her struggles, her bikini top had slipped down exposing her breasts. Blood was slowly oozing over her lower lip.
“Your turn, Robbie,” said Mike as Brad took hold of Robbie’s head forcing his mouth open.
Robbie struggled but he was no match for Brad’s gym built arms.
“Sucker just won’t come out,” said Mike straining to remove one of Robbie’s bicuspids.
Alisha recovered to the point she was making babbling sounds. Stacy noted that people look terrible without their teeth. Alisha’s face had sunk in making her look twenty years older.
Stacy was becoming nauseated watching Mike work on Robbie. Yet she felt riveted to the spot unable to leave. After Mike removed several teeth, Bobby took over to finish the job.
As Bobby extracted Robbie’s teeth one by one, Mike walked over to a cabinet packed with cleaning supplies. Stacy watched as he removed a square gallon can and read the label.
“Muriatic acid, this stuff can clean paint off concrete,” said Mike turning around holding the can.
Stacy watched in total horror as they filled Alisha and Robbie’s bleeding mouth with the contents of the can. The reaction of the two when the acid came in contact with their ravaged gums was awful. The pain must have been off the charts. They struggled violently against the handcuffs and would have overturned the chairs except that Brad and Bobby held them upright.
Stacy’s nostrils caught the smell of a strong chemical and burning flesh. She had witnessed all she could stand and began to silently creep back to the stairs. Mike spoke the last words she heard from the room.
“Put them back on the boat and take them out and dump them. Make sure they’re conscious when you toss them overboard,” said Mike.
***
“My God you witnessed a mob hit,” said Portia eyeing the dial on the surveillance system that Stacy had bought at her behest. It was the latest in anti-surveillance technology. Reviews by several independent security consultants sung its praises. The system could detect hidden microphones, wireless transmitters, and CCTV cameras while broadcasting a high frequency signal rendering the surveillance equipment useless. For the first time in months, the girls could talk freely. Before they were forced to jog along Memorial Drive if they had something to communicate about the Posse.
Stacy had also contracted with a local security company to perform a weekly sweep of the condo. So far, no hidden microphones or cameras had been discovered. It was early Saturday morning and the two were discussing what Stacy had witnessed the night before.
“They’re crooked cops not the mob,” said Stacy.
“They’re crooked cops tied in with Cosa Nostra, the Mafia,” said Portia. “Surf Side is obviously a mob hangout. I bet the food is delicious.”
“The food is extraordinary and fattening. I have to watch what I eat. I always order fish. I wonder who Robbie and Alisha were,” said Stacy.
“Were in their case is the operative word. You never, ever steal from the Mob. They take that in the worst way. There is honesty among thieves. I’ll search for media stories about a missing couple named Robert and Alisha,” said Portia.
“I almost puked when I saw what Mike was doing to them,” said Stacy.
“They make it as awful a death as possible as a warning to others. In Trenton, the Mob was known for throwing people alive into the city incinerator,” said Portia. “Promise me you won’t do anything like that again. If they had caught you, you’d be dead too.”
“I was going to pretend to be drunk and horny.”
“That would not have mattered. You witnessed a double murder. You could testify against Mike and the Epps. They would have killed you for sure. Never become a witness if you can help it.”
“You’re right I was stupid,” said Stacy after thinking for a moment.
“Anything else happen,” asked Portia.
“Nope, for once, Mike did not find a reason to criticize me. He was too preoccupied to pay me much mind. When we got back to the apartment, everybody got naked and it became a fuck-a-thon. Mark’s new girl Chloe is just a kid but they made sure she sampled every available cock and cunt.”
“How was she,” asked Portia?
“She did great until Zack introduced her to anal for the first time.”
“She’d never done anal,” asked Portia?
“No, I hadn’t done it either until the Posse came into my life. Zack sort of snuck up on her. She was pretty high. He rammed his dick in her backdoor before she realized what was happening. It was almost funny the way her eyes bugged out when she realized somebody was stirring her shit.”
“How did she react,” asked Portia?
“She has a very annoying squeal and a long list of curse words she’s not afraid to use. And typical of the Posse if you tell them something hurts, they make it worse. They shut her up with a pump gag. Then they placed her in a shoulder stand and Mark added his cock to Zack’s.”
“They doubled in her virgin asshole,” asked Portia? “That must have been painful.”
“Yes, I would have to agree based on how she fought them. Mark is the best-endowed member of the Posse. Her anal ring was practically transparent it was stretched so thin.”
“Being able to handle double anal is a learned skill,” said Portia confidently.
“Chloe’s something of an airhead. Instead of sucking it up and acting like it was a wonderful erotic experience, she kept struggling,” said Stacy.
“That encouraged them to make it worse.”
“Of course not, no mercy with that group. Bobby tried to add his dick to her butthole’s occupants but he was too large to get close enough. If you ever want three cocks in your ass simultaneously, find three very thin men with long dicks. Bobby’s shoulders are a yard wide.”
“What happened next?”
“Mark and Zack removed their cocks. Bobby, not to be denied, squired a half bottle of Easy Glide in her open hope then fisted her,” said Stacy.
“You’re kidding,” said Portia.
“He did it quick too. I’m surprised he didn’t rupture something,” said Stacy.
“She reacted how?”
“Fainted dead away,” said Stacy.
“How did it end?”
“Bobby carried her into the bathroom and set her in the tub.”
“I can guess what happened next,” said Portia.
“Golden Showers, we all contributed,” said Stacy.
“Did she wake up during her shower?”
“Yes, and unfortunately for her the first thing she did was open her mouth to scream,” said Stacy.
“Dumb, very dumb, best to keep your mouth shut when folks are peeing in your face,” said Portia.
“So you think three cocks in one asshole are possible if the men are skinny and favored by Phallus,” asked Portia?
“Yes, although it needs to be proven,” said Stacy.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I wonder if Monk and Les have a skinny friend. Bobby’s fist must have been even worse.”
“It was. One of the first times I saw you have sex, Monk and Les were screwing you anally at the same time,” said Stacy.
“I love that stretched feeling with two Prince Albert’s raking my rectum. So how did it all end up?” said Portia?
“After we gave Chloe her piss bath, the guys ordered we ladies on our elbows and knees and fucked our ass. They kept swapping around until all six had enjoyed our backdoor. When one of the Posse drops his load, I am the designated felcher who gets to extract the semen and asshole cocktail then share it with the girl whose butt I just sucked dry.”
“Who did your butt,” asked Portia?
“Wynona,” said Stacy.
“I’m surprised I haven’t caught some horrible disease.”
“Why you,” asked Portia?
“Mike,” said Stacy.
“He delights in degrading you,” said Portia. “It’s because he envies you. He perceives you as coming from wealth and privilege. He admires you in his own way but he needs to constantly reassure himself he’s your superior.”
“Yes, Dr. Freud, he makes a point of it. If somebody’s cock has just left a dirty asshole, then according to Mike, it’s my job to lick it clean. And if a Posse member, had deposited a load deep in a girl’s rectum, Stacy is the one to suck it out and take it down to her tummy.”
“Anything else unusual happen?”
“No, just the normal non stop pussy eating and cock sucking until we wore the guys out. Wynona and I slipped the double inside our cunts then got close enough to rub out clits together. That got me off big time. After that, we ladies formed a daisy chain and ate each other to a roaring climax. We ended by gang fucking Chloe. She almost went out of her mind when the five of us did her. ”
“So it’s a dinner date where you know you’re going to be fucked. You just don’t know by who and how many,” said Portia carefully applying red lacquer to Stacy’s toenail.
“The general guideline is that all present, male and female, are going to have you in some way. And as if I don’t have enough trouble, my Mom called last week to ask me if I was seeing someone. She had been going over the family’s personal bills when Althea asked her if I was dating someone special,” said Stacy applying black lacquer to Portia’s toenail.
“Althea, who’s that?”
“Our accountant, she takes care of our finances,” said Stacy.
“The rich are different as Fitzgerald wrote. My parents set down every Saturday morning and try to figure out how to pay their bills. They calculate how much they have left on their credit cards to see if they can make it through the week. How would your accountant know you’ve been dating someone?”
“I’ve been buying a new dress every week, an expensive one. That’s a new thing for me. Remember, Mike went berserk the time I wore one he’d seen before. He slapped me then threatened to rip it off and make me drive home naked. I’ve also bought shoes, underwear, perfume, make up, and nail lacquer. Plus I’m getting my hair styled.”
“Your relationship with him would make a good case study. He’s costing you a fortune. It’s a good thing you’re rich. So what did you tell your Mom?”
“I told her I had been dating someone. What else could I say?”
“She accepted that?”
“Not really, she asked who and when I said no one special, she asked me if he was married. I practically peed in my pants.”
“How did she figure that out,” asked Portia?
“Outside of the fact I consider her psychic where I’m concerned, I think it was the clothes. Mom’s no dummy either.”
“Why? What did she say?”
“You don’t spend five hundred dollars on a dress to go out for pizza with a grad student. He must take you to nice places. He’s older and he’s married. Isn’t he?”
“She is intuitive. My Mom never had a clue what I was up to. So did you fess up?” said Portia.
“I said he was married with four kids which is a lie. Mike’s only got two, a boy and a girl.”
“And what did Doreen say to that?”
“He’ll never leave his wife. You’re wasting your life. She started telling me how Lorraine Baker, her best friend in college, dated a married man for seven years but even though he promised, he never got that divorce.”
“That’s true. They usually don’t. So how did you leave it with her?”
“I told her I wasn’t interested in marrying him but that the sex was fabulous,” said Stacy.
“And a pregnant pause ensued?”
“Yes, then she said I was just like my father. She asked about you by the way?”
“Really, what did she say?”
“She asked how you were doing? I told her you were doing terrific. You had a good gig at a club that just opened.”
“Honestly, I didn’t think she liked me,” said Portia referring to a recent weekend when Stacy had invited her home.
“I admit at first she was a little put off. Mom’s not partial to the idea of youthful rebellion or Goth make-up; but when you sat down at her piano and played she became your biggest fan. And after the two of you played that four handed piece, she was ready to kick me out and adopt you.”
“Your Mom loves the piano and she plays well. She’d be even better if she practiced more. I couldn’t believe she actually has a nine-foot Imperial Bosendorfer in her home just like the one in Carnegie Hall. It was quite a thrill just to play it.”
“Dad bought it for their twenty fifth anniversary. She made me take lessons for three years before my teacher persuaded her I had neither talent nor interest.”
“So how did you leave it with Doreen?”
“We will chat the next time I’m home,” said Stacy.
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