[Author's note -- All characters are fictional and depicted as over 18.]
Dear Bernadette,
I hope you are well. I'm writing to you because you were so kind to Robbie when you were his babysitter and, well, I have a favour to ask of you.
It's always difficult to ask for help, isn't it? And when I haven't kept in touch with you for so long, and with the unpleasant things that have been said about you back here in recent months...
As I said, it's hard to ask for help but I don't know what else to do.
Robbie's senior prom is next week and he's not going. Not only not going but also spending seemingly all his time in his room, sulking about it. He won't go alone and the girl he asked -- the only girl he's ever expressed any interest in and who we both thought felt the same -- had already agreed to go with one of the football team.
Robbie refuses to consider asking anyone else and, in his words, won't be the blind boy alone in the corner.
Honestly, Bernadette, I'm at my wit's end. You know how stubborn Robbie can be and, after we fought so hard to get him into a regular school it's awful that his time in high school is going to end on such a personal low note.
Would it be too much to ask for you to call him and talk things through? He always listened to you and, to judge by his angry responses to the gossip about your personal life, still hasn't quite gotten over the crush he had on you. I'm sure he'd listen, if only you could spare the time to talk with him.
I'm sorry. I know you're very busy but I can't think of anyone else he would listen to and time is running out.
Best regards,
Jayne x x
Ms. Jayne Pugh.
* * * * *
"What're you two up to?" Eric found B and Helen naked in the closet. At least, the spare room they'd taken over as a closet. He leant on the jamb in his running gear, watching his courtesans folding and packing clothes. They had a lot of clothes, considering they so rarely bothered wearing any around him.
"Packing." Helen offered an accurate but essentially pointless explanation.
"Can I borrow the jet?" B asked without turning.
"Sure. Do I get to know where you two are going?"
"Only me." B said, picking a piece of paper off the dresser and bringing it to him.
"She's expanding your social development program." Helen said.
Eric perused the letter. It was addressed to B, care of the gallery.
"I'm gonna be a prom date again." B clarified. "It's about time I went home anyway. Just to see if I can't mend a few fences with my folks. This is a great opportunity for that and I really want to help Robert if I can."
" If you can't, I'll send Helen to help." Eric knew that wouldn't be necessary: B always got her own way and the eighteen-year-old boy wasn't born that would pass up the chance to be her date.
B's look said that she thought that'd be unnecessary too. "Thanks." She hugged him, crumpling the letter between his shirt and her bare bosom.
"You're welcome." In theory, men find it difficult to refuse naked women. In practice, Eric hadn't tried. It wouldn't occur to him to refuse B, or Helen, anything. He loved them and expressed it most often by finding ways to indulge their wayward ways. Jealousy? There was no room for that in their relationship. B would go and do what -- who -- she wanted and Eric would look forward to hearing all about it.
* * * * *
"Robbie? You have a visitor." Jayne knocked on her son's door but, as was usual lately, he ignored her. She'd been shocked by B's unannounced arrival. She'd been even more shocked when B, over coffee, had explained why she was there.
When Jayne wrote that letter, she'd hoped that Bernadette -- B, she mentally corrected herself -- she'd hoped that B would call Robbie; talk to him; perhaps, persuade him to ask another girl to the prom or even to go stag. She'd never expected that B would turn up in person and she was more than a little unsettled by it. After all, she thought, B is the town scandal since news broke of what she does for a living and when people get wind of why she's back... well, Robbie will be the subject of more than a little gossip too.
B's plan was simple. She was going to be Robbie's prom date.
"Robbie? Please open the door." Yes, thought Jayne, as she knocked fruitlessly on Robbie's door, there would be a lot more gossip if B got her way.
* * * * *
Jayne wasn't stupid: She'd immediately suspected an ulterior motive and called B on it.
"Why are you doing this, B? It's not just about Robbie's prom. Are you using him as just another way to shock the people you grew up with?" Jayne was not in the pro-B camp when it came to the gossip. She felt so sorry for B's parents and just didn't understand why anyone would deliberately court such notoriety. B had been such a sensible, bright girl...
"I
do
have the right to face my accusers. But no, I'm not just looking for an excuse to shake up this complacent town. Robbie's been through a lot and he deserves his senior prom. Having me on his arm will get him noticed and, as we both know, people around here don't forget quickly. Notoriety is like cologne. I stink of it, but a little bit rubbing off on Robbie will make him a lot more attractive after I've gone."
"Everyone will think..." Jayne didn't even want to think it, let alone say it out loud.
"That I slept with him? Jayne? Understand this: I will do everything I can to get Robbie to fuck me because that's all I have to offer him. I'm guessing he hasn't gotten himself laid yet?"
"What? No! I... I'd know." Jayne was stunned by B's bluntness.
"Of course you would. And Poor Robbie can't even get his kicks from porn. He must be so frustrated. What would you have done if Robbie had his sight and you found dirty magazines in his room?"
"I'd... I guess I'd ignore it. It's a phase boys go through, isn't it?" Jayne was thinking of the magazines her boyfriend didn't think she knew about. She was also thinking what Harry would say when he heard all this.
"Ok, so think of me as a Braille girlie magazine. Just ignore what's going to happen and pretend it's a normal part of Robbie's growing up."
