“You don’t need to, Diane’s already called.”
“She’s already called?”
“Yea, she phoned this morning, to ask what time you’d be arriving. She begged me not to tell you, so I think we can assume she’s interested.”
“Then I’d better call her back immediately.”
“No, that’s the last thing you should do,” said Tom.
“But I said I would.”
“Yes, I know you did, but I think we’ll walk around the grounds first.”
The next day at the Coulters’, Tricia answered the door. She was dressed for a game of tennis.
“Is Diane home?” Nat asked.
“No, she’s gone to some party at the Capitol with my parents. She should be back in about an hour. I’m Tricia, by the way. I spoke to you on the phone. I was just going to have a Coke. Want to join me?”
“Is your brother at home?”
“No, he’s training down at the gym.”
“Yes, please.”
Tricia led Nat through to the kitchen and pointed toward a stool on the other side of the table. Nat sat down and didn’t speak as Tricia pulled open the fridge door. As she bent over to remove two Cokes, her short skirt rose. Nat couldn’t stop staring at her white tennis panties.
“What time are you expecting them back?” he asked as she added some ice cubes to his drink.
“No idea, so for the time being, you’re stuck with me.”
Nat sipped his drink, not sure what to say, because he thought he and Diana had agreed to see To Kill a Mockingbird.
Nat was sipping his Coke when he felt a hand on his thigh. He blushed, but made no attempt to remove it. Tricia smiled across the table at him. “You can put your hand on my leg if you want to.” Nat thought she might consider him rude if he didn’t comply, so he reached under the table and placed a hand on her thigh. “Good,” she said as she sipped her Coke, “that’s a little more friendly.” Nat didn’t comment as her hand moved farther up his newly pressed slacks. “Just follow my lead,” she said. He moved his hand farther up her thigh, but came to a halt when he reached the hem of her skirt. Tricia didn’t stop until she had reached his crotch.
“You’ve still got some way to go to catch up with me,” T
ricia said, as she began to undo the top button of his slacks. “Under the skirt, not over,” she added, without any trace of mockery. He slipped his hand under her skirt as she continued to unbutton his slacks. He hesitated again when his fingers reached her panties. He couldn’t remember anything in Teen magazine about what he was expected to do next.
9
When Fletcher’s mother dropped him off at Senator and Mrs. Gates’s home in East Hartford, it was Jimmy who answered the door.
“Now don’t forget to always address Mr. Gates as Senator or sir.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And don’t bother him with too many questions.”
“No, Mom.”
“Remember that a conversation conducted by two people should be fifty percent talking and fifty percent listening.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Hello, Mrs. Davenport, how are you?” asked Jimmy as he opened the door to greet them.
“I’m well, thank you, Jimmy, and you?”