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Chapter 7 — The Weekend
I woke up at 10:00 feeling drained of all energy. Damn, that woman rode me hard. Ooooo, it was fun, though. I shower and give Ronnie (our butler) an envelope with instructions before heading to the kitchen. Bacon, sausage, and hash browns are slowly cooking on the grill. At seeing me, pancakes and eggs are soon on the grill. Mom and Jane are cooking. Our chef is setting the table and squeezing oranges for juice. Nothing is better than fresh-squeezed orange juice. Mom steps up to me at the first lull, bumps her breasts into me, giggles, and then kisses me. After flipping the pancakes, Jane bumps her breasts into me, touches my arm, sending bolts of lightning through my body, and then she too kisses me on the lips.
I sit down at the table. Marcene, our chef, looks at me and stares at my body; she is locked on. Mom bumps her as she brings in a platter of food.
Mom teases her, “It’s just Bill.”
Marcene shakes her head, “No, mam. That is a living sculpture. That’s the type of man that causes divorces.”
Janes laughs as she also brings in a large plate of food. Marcene and Ronnie join us for breakfast. I am starving. They are all staring at me as I eat. I’m a big guy, and I worked up an appetite last night.
While eating, mom asks me, “What shall we do today?”
I giggle, “As soon as we finish breakfast, you are going up to your room, putting on a good pair of socks, and then your best walking shoes. I have a big day planned. We are going to do a lot of walking today outside in the open. You WILL need sunscreen.”
Today, I start acting like a boyfriend should.
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One hour later, Ronnie is our driver, which both mom and Jane notice; he doesn’t usually drive. We have the big SUV today. The limo is over the top for my plans. He takes us to the Olive Grove shopping mall. This is a mall with a HUGE parking lot. This is more like an airport, there is so much parking. However, today, it’s almost all full. There is a car show today. I love modified cars.
Mom and Jane start off like, oh geez, how fun, yea, can we go now? Zero enthusiasm. I start with the classic car section. These are cars from the twenties, thirties, and forties, and all have been restored to brand new condition, if not better. These are faithful restorations, no cd players, air conditioning, power steering, and other items to make it nicer. These look amazing. Even mom and Jane are impressed with the cars and want to sit in them.
I have them hooked. I then take them to the rust-o-mods, where new suspensions, motors, radios, and other nice things are placed in an old-looking car. These have been modified to look cool and yet are very drivable. We then move into the heavily modified vehicles. These cars have been chopped, stretched, lowered, raised, and some are just plain weird. They all have fantastic paint jobs with jacked-up engines that you could eat on.
I skip the muscle cars; they would have had no interest. I end in the fifties and sixties cars. Those are some big cars with huge fins. I like them because of the style. This whole time we are hand in hand with me in the middle. Ronnie loves muscle cars; he ran off on his own. At about one, we stop and grab a bite to eat. They don’t have anything healthy, so we all got something terrible and shared. They are wound up now.
I text Ronnie, and we move on. Our next stop is go-cart driving, and neither mom nor Jane has ever gone before. The place isn’t busy; only a few kids are on the track. Several other kids are there and looking sad, including the two mothers. I don’t need to ask them to understand the issue, they ran out of money.
I take mom and Jane to the counter to get helmets, and I go pay.
I ask the guy, “If I pay three times, do we have to stop.”
The kid says, “Yeah, the others aren’t paid, I can’t let them go, and they ran out of money. When they finish, you will probably be the only three; if so, no problem.”
I smile at him, “I and my two dates will go three times. Then I want to pay for ALL those kids to go three times with us. Ok?”
The kid could care less, “Sure, fine by me. You tell them.”
Mom and Jane are picking out a car.
I stop and look sour as I yell at the kids, “Where do you think you’re going?”
They all freeze; they look like they’re going to shit their pants. The mothers are puzzled and ready to attack me.
I yell some more, “Get back in those cars. You kids over there, get in the other cars. I want to fill this track so I can show my girls how awesome I am. We’re going three times so that’s nine laps. Well, don’t sit there on your butts; get up and get in a car! Hurry!”
I yell at the mothers, “Hey! All of you get out there. Someone has to watch those punks. You can’t do it sitting on your asses.”
They’re already running. One of the mothers, nah, probably a grandmother, got the checkered flag out, the worker could not be bothered, and she jumped and waved the flag to start us. Every single one of those little fuckers lapped me not once but twice. Jane lapped me once, and mom basically stayed in front of me, effectively blocking me. They quickly get out of the cars and are laughing hysterically at me. I’m having a hard time extricating myself from the small, cramped vehicle.
Mom and Jane rush me and hug me, still laughing. They had a ton of fun. That was the plan all along. I know every vehicle has the same horsepower. Add more weight, it goes slower. With as big as I am, I never had a chance. Jane, mom, and the other mothers are the happiest of the group.
One of the little guys yells out, “Hey! Mister big dude.” I turn to look at him. “Thank you for the fun. You need to learn to drive; you suck.”
The mothers slapped him silly as he and his buddies all laughed their asses off at his comment. One mother looked at me, smiled, and shrugged her shoulders in a “What can I do?” look. We leave.
Next on the list is eighteen holes of golf. Mini golf, that is. I pay, we grab a club and are given a ball.
At the first tee, I explain the game, “You set the ball down, and hit it with the club. We take turns so that we can block each other. The lowest score for the eighteen holes wins. The one with the lowest score on each hole gets a good long kiss from me between the two of you. If you tie, you each get a short kiss from me. Mini golf is now a competitive event between the two women.
They take it seriously enough; they’re like professional golfers. They look at the angles, take practice swings, everything but check the wind. Taking chances generally paid off. In the end, Jane won one more hole than mom, with five ties. It was hilarious watching them concentrate so hard.
I sit in the back with mom as we head downtown for dinner. I need to be there to hold her. Dad proposed to her at Vincent’s Italian Village. It’s a century-old restaurant still run by the same family and using the same recipes. It’s expensive, but it’s terrific. Mom hasn’t been there since dad died. As we get closer, her eyes start to water. She’s figured it out. Two blocks away, and she is shaking like a leaf. I turn and kiss her on the lips, allowing it to linger. She calms down.