A New Side to Mrs. Klugman
Sheila Klugman pulled her Mercedes SL500 into her driveway and raised the roof. She ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, wishing for about the millionth time that there was a way to keep her hair from getting too messy while driving with the top down. She so loved driving the convertible with the top down and looking sporty, and one of the prices she paid was having to wear her hair short. It wasn't quite a bob, but it was definitely above the collar, and it was almost impossible to keep permed.
She got out of the car and began limping slightly as she keyed the remote to the mudroom entrance of the house. Still limping from the fall she'd taken playing tennis at the country club, she settled gingerly onto her expensive couch and stretched out her long and still lovely legs.
Oh How I'd love a gin and tonic right now, she thought as the front door opened and she saw the street person walk in.
This time instead of showing her displeasure at my arrival, she smiled and said, "You know, I owe you an apology, I can't thank you enough for saving Fritzie. You know, she means everything to me."
Shelia was wearing a white tennis outfit and leaning a bit more than necessary since she had just opened the top three buttons of her tennis shirt to cool off and was providing me with a wonderful view of her twins.
"It was the thing to do ..." I paused, and then added, "Shelia," Doing my best not to stare at her chest.
Shelia beamed at me. One of her twins flashed a glimpse of nipple my way. "My husband has a habit of picking up strays. I suppose that's one of the endearing things that attracted me to him in the first place. But after a few years it began to wear thin, and after the last experience -- that one made off with my BMW -- I thought my days of playing nursemaid to his strays were over. But after the way you saved my Fritzie ... well, you can stay as long as your heart desires."
I tried to match her smile. "I'm sure you won't have to nursemaid me at all," I said as both nipples came into view, but I really think she was unaware of it.
She laughed and said, "Please, call me Sheila. I thought I told you that already."
It was then that I noticed she appeared to be in some discomfort.
"Can I get you something, Sheila? Water? Juice? Something a little harder?"
"You noticed?"
"Um, you're a very active woman, Mrs. Klugman. I walk in and you're sitting there in what looks like ... well, let's just say you look uncomfortable."
"I took a fall playing tennis, and yes, I'd love a strong tonic about now. Please make it Gin, not vodka."
I walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, took out some ice and plopped some into a tall glass then filled it halfway with Gin and topped it off with tonic and then added a slice of lime and brought it to her.
"Thanks," she said and took a healthy sip.
A moment went by and then she said, "Aren't you joining me?"
"No thanks, Sheila. I'm off the hard stuff. That's what landed me on the street. I will have the occasional glass of wine at a meal, but that's as far as I trust myself."
"Good for you," she replied and I felt she meant it.
"Is your leg feeling any better?" I asked with genuine concern.
"About like before," she answered and took another sip. "Maybe worse."
I took another peek at her puppies and wondered if I was about to ravish every female in the house. So just to get a different reaction from Sheila I said, "I think your neighbors; the Compton's are having marital problems."
"Really, and you know this how?"
"I hate to talk out of school ..."
"Come on, you haven't been in school for a long time," She chided me, knowingly.
"He was carted off from a seedy motel after tying up a young girl and torturing her."
"My, God! How do you know?"
"I happened to see him being arrested."
She licked her lips and purred, "And what were you doing by that seedy motel?"
"The truth? I was following him."
"Why?" she asked, leaning a little more.
"I had nothing better to do. I had your car, um, Warren's anyway, and there he was coming down his drive, I tagged along, unobtrusively, of course."
"You have a big vocabulary for a street person, you know?" Shelia purred.
"I wasn't always homeless, Shelia."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It was thoughtless and cruel of me. I do apologize."
"That's all right, maybe I'll tell you my story someday."
"I'd like that," she said contritely. Then she caught me looking at her chest and did something with her shoulders that restored the nipples to their rightful hiding place and I glanced down at my hands just to have someplace else to look.
She didn't seem bothered by my peeking at her puppies, and said quite unabashedly, "I had a little surgery there five years ago. Good job, don't you think?"
I certainly do, Sheila. At least from the little I saw of them."
"Well don't think I'm letting you see or handle them! I was just telling you ..."
I let a moment pass before resuming the conversation. "I followed him because I heard something about him," I thought talking about Compton would ease a difficult situation and it did.
"What did you hear?" apparently Sheila loved gossip as much as the next one.
"That while married to a beautiful woman, he spent most of his time chasing young women."
"You mean kids?"
"No, he's too smart to risk doing time. He goes after those younger than twenty or twenty-one; high school seniors or recent graduates. The one I saw him with was probably nineteen, maybe just twenty."
"What a bastard!" Sheila all but snarled. "I think all men are bastards ... um, present company excepted, of course."
"Um, what about Warren?"
"Uh, Warren! He's screwing his latest secretary, or receptionist. He always does. He gives them a week to enjoy the job and all its benefits and then has them bending over his desk to keep them."
"You don't mind?" I was a bit surprised that she knew about his fooling around, and allowed it.
