Naomi Phillips stood at the bus stop, her shoulders slumped, eyes staring ahead blankly. Her mind kept going over and over the events of the summer, when she and her parents had moved to this new neighborhood. They were so happy and then...
Why did her father have to have a fatal heart attack? Why was he having an affair with his secretary? How could he have squandered his wife's and daughter's future on this sordid affair?
Naomi's eyes welled with tears as she contrasted the past with the present. A preemie, she had been in an incubator for two months and when she did come home her mother was terrified she would become ill from exposure to gems.
Her mother wore a surgical mask whenever she touched Naomi and the two never bonded. Her father "worked" late and had no time for her. She was home schooled because her parents were afraid she would contract an illness from other children.
When Naomi had her first menstrual period her mother called it the "curse" and told her to never let a man touch her until she was married. She had few friends, partly because her family moved often as her father worked his way up the corporate ladder.
This was to be their final move because her father had been made a vice president and would now work in the home office. Naomi sighed as she looked around this upscale neighborhood.
Her father's estate had consisted of a mortgage on the house, a pile of unpaid bills, loans on two cars, and an insurance policy. The policy paid off the mortgage and the car loans but that was about it. Her father had cashed in two other policies in order to entertain his girl friend.
Naomi's mother went back to work as a nurse in order to pay living expenses. The job paid well but she was no longer able to home school Naomi. And so Naomi was enrolled in the local high school. Her paranoid mother had always dressed her in ill-fitting clothes, concealing her sexy curves, in order to ward off any interest boys might have in her virgin daughter.
"Stay away from boys and men, Naomi. They are disgusting and will betray you at every turn," her mother told her, bitter after the betrayal of her husband of twenty years.
Naomi had made a few girlfriends at the school, who told her wild stories of sucking cock and eating pussy and fucking. It seemed to her she must be the only virgin in her graduating class. The only good thing she could think of was that she was now eighteen and had been admitted to the prestigious university her father had attended with all expenses paid, the "full ride" her counselor called it.
She looked up, startled to hear a male voice.
"Good Morning. Look what has been added to the neighborhood." It was Justin Nettleson. Justin was a widower. His wife and son had been killed six months ago when their light plane she was flying had gone into a spin and crashed. The National Transportation Safety Board called it pilot error.
Justin had taken a round the world cruise after his wife and son died, accompanied by their miniature poodle, Mimi. He had mourned and grieved until he was exhausted from the pain. He had returned the night before.
Justin was a moderately wealthy man, having invented a computer painting program for artists when he was an undergraduate at the state university. It sold well and was making good money for him by the time he graduated. He realized, however, that he was not cut out to be a businessman and sold his company to a large corporation, which hired him as a consultant.
He was thus free to tinker on beta versions of games the company produced while being free from any concerns about the running a business. For him, it was the best of all possible worlds. He was thirty-two years old, athletic, nice looking while not being handsome and well enough off to never have to work for a living again.
When his wife died he was deluged with invitations from every unattached and some attached women he and his wife knew. One reason he took the cruise was to get away from them. He had no intention of jumping into a relationship at this time.
Justin was going on the morning walk he and Mimi took each day when he saw Naomi. Nice looking kid, he thought, but my God, somebody has no idea what size skirt and blouse she needs. Even in the oversized clothing she wore his eyes could discern a well-shaped female form.
He smiled as he and Mimi, her tail wagging, approached Naomi. "I'm Justin Nettleson and I live in that house across the street. Mimi and I check out the neighborhood every morning about this time."
Naomi blinked her eyes as she looked at this nice looking man who seemed so full of good cheer. His voice and smile were infectious and she felt herself smiling in return.
"I'm Naomi Phillips and I live in the house behind me. I haven't seen you before."
Justin shook his head. "I've been away. I'm sorry I was not here to welcome you to the neighborhood, but I am here now and I will do so properly this very day. Is your mother at home?"
Naomi shook her head. "No. She is at work. She's a nurse at the local hospital."
"Well. I'd like to meet her and your dad and have you over for dinner. This is Friday and I bet they would enjoy having someone else prepare dinner after working all week."
Naomi's smile disappeared and she told Justin her father had died at the beginning of the summer. "I bet mom, though, would welcome your offer. I'll ask her as soon as she comes home, at five."
Justin expressed his condolences and told Naomi that dinner would be at six and that he would accept no excuses.
Naomi's face brightened at the way Justin expressed himself, so full of life, so cheerful, so just plain nice. "I'll tell her. I'm sure she will be pleased to eat someone else's cooking for a change."
"What do you mean we are going to dinner with a Mr. Justin Nettleson? Who is he? What have you been up to?"
Naomi put her hands over her ears to block out her mother's screams. Her mom. Monica Phillips had been like this ever since her dad had died. It was impossible to talk with her without her going into a rage.
"Mom. Mom. Listen to me. He lives across the street. I asked a couple of the girls on the bus about him. His wife and only child died six months ago. He's been away on a cruise; must have plenty of money."
"I don't care, Naomi. You have no business accepting an invitation to dinner without my permission. Maybe I'm too tired to go out."
Naomi grinned at her mother. "But you are not too tired to fix dinner tonight. Is that it? You would rather stay home and cook than go out to eat. Come on, Mom. Give me a break." Naomi put her arms around her mother and caressed her back. "If you don't like him or his cooking, we will not see him again. OK?"
Monica Phillips shook her head and sighed. God. What is this world coming to, she thought? My daughter is comforting me. I should be comforting her. She put her arms around Naomi and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
