Thomas Albright sat up in bed at the beginning of a new day. His bedroom faced east, so the dawn usually served him better than an alarm clock. All was silent in the house: his four year old daughter Amanda wasn't stirring yet. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he got up, took off his pajamas and hopped into the shower.
As he soaped himself, his manhood stirred fully. He tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away. Rising himself, he focused on the rest of his routine and succeeded in returning to default position. Since he never knew when his little girl would invade his private space; he only indulged in self gratification when she was visiting her great grandmother.
All was quiet as he descended the stairs in a Mizzou T-shirt and sweat pants. Taking stock, he realized he had no projects going for the greeting card company in Kansas City, so he wouldn't need to telecommute for several days. He could draw or paint as the spirit moved him, although spending time with his daughter would probably take up most of his time. It was a prospect he looked forward to.
Going down to his studio, he started his iMac and leafed through his collection of pictures, raw material he'd used for several paintings Mutt Hayes commissioned for him over the years. A shot of Maria Garcia, a girl the same age as Renee. She was holding the straps of her swimsuit top aside, revealing her generous brown breasts. His mind went back to the day he delivered that painting to Mutt on a bright summer day
*******
A week after his encounter with Renee in the parking lot, Tom delivered his commissioned painting of Maria Garcia to Mutt Hayes. Mutt's home office was a huge wood paneled study with several trophies on the walls, including a huge bass over the fireplace. Two life sized classical Roman statues of Venus stood at either end of the room. The painting was a warm study in browns and reds against a blue background; Maria's teeth dazzled in this fantasy as they never had in real life. Mutt's eyes lit up and fixed on the fleshy mounds presented so richly by Tom's brushstrokes. "Tom, you're a Rembrandt, a Reubens, a Michelangelo. Two hundred and more, my friend, more."
He took the bass off the mantelpiece and hung the picture in its place, beaming proudly. "This will be an icon for me."
"Thanks, Mutt. Glad you like it."
"Did you get her to pose for you?"
"Didn't need it; your picture was enough."
"Excellent."
They regarded the painting for a moment, and Tom asked: "Say Mutt, won't your wife object to this in your study?"
"Sherrie's strictly forbidden to come in here," Mutt said calmly. "Only the housekeeper and I have a key to this room. I told her I dumped my last wife for violating my privacy. She'll stay away."
"You dumped your last wife when you found someone younger and cuter and who could deepthroat you better. But isn't Maria's mother your housekeeper?"
Mutt scratched his face. "Nothing much to worry about, I've got her under control. Oh my God, it'll be so wonderful to look at this while I blow my wad down Carmelita's throat." He closed his eyes and rubbed his crotch grotesquely. "I'll give her a bonus, and warn her if she has a problem with it, I'll call La Migra on her."
Tom shook his head. "You're really something, aren't you, Mutt?"
"Which something would you be talking about?" Mutt sneered, "A thoroughgoing bastard, an arrogant prick, or an avaricious horndog?"
"Yes."
Mutt stood with his hands on his hips and chuckled, still fixed on the new painting. "Of course, my boy, of course. Glad you noticed." He stepped up to hold his hands barely over Maria's breasts, then stepped back again. "How soon can you do the other girls?"
"It'll be a while, Mutt. Work's been a bitch lately, and I want to enter a competition in Chicago in three months."
Mutt tore his gaze away to look at Tom. "Do you want to send this one?" he asked, "I'll be happy to loan it to you."
"No thanks, Mutt. I'd like to do something more rustic, maybe something on my back deck."
"Would have been nice to have this a contest winner, but you know best. Okay, I can wait. If nothing else, I can print out the pictures from the camera and enjoy them in the meantime. No rush."
"Sure."
"Oh, by the way, your little girlie's grandmother got arrested last night." he said smugly.
"I beg your pardon?"
Mutt gave him a searching look. "All right, keep your modesty, but little Renee's granny got arrested for DUI again. Three strikes on her, and she'll have to do hard time, at last."
Tom shook his head, and thought a while. "What about her mother?"
"Whose? Renee's? Ran off when she was 12, hung out in trailer parks in Arkansas, and O'D on Crystal Meth two years ago."
"Any other relatives?"
"None worth mentioning. Gracie's lost track of 'em anyway. Good thing Renee's 18 already, it'll save some paperwork." Mutt pantomimed feeling Maria up again, eyes closed and a rapt expression on his face.
"Gracie's her grandmother?"
"Yeah," he said dreamily. Snapping out of his reverie, he looked at Tom strangely: "What are you thinking of, becoming a social worker?"
"Of course not. I gotta go."
"Sure, Tommy. Go ahead. Rebound sex is always sweet."
Tom pondered profoundly for a moment to summon his courage. "Go fuck yourself, Mutt."
Mutt smiled in appreciation. "Don't have to Tommy; got people to do that for me. Later."
The curves and hills kept him from speeding to the Thriftway, but he got there in reasonable time. It was 2:00PM, and as Tom went in to ask about Renee, he found her shelving green beans. The store was relatively empty.
Renee's face lit up when Tom approached. "Hi, Tom."
"Hi, Renee. How's it goin'?"
Tears ran down her face. "Awful."
He ducked his head to look her into her watery eyes. "Wanna talk?" She shook her head no. "Are you going to be all right?"
"I'm scared."
"Oh?"
"Yea. There's a couple rough men at the trailer court, and Grammie always had them scared to touch me. I didn't sleep at all last night: I sat up in front of the TV with her aluminum baseball bat on my lap. Now they all know she's gone. . ."
He paused and thought. "You need a safe place to stay?" A tentative nod. "I'll get you a hotel room."