I disconnected, and I tossed the phone to the side.
The next many hours of my life were spent trying not to sneer at nursing home administrators. My father had made a name for himself at Shady Oaks, and because I couldn’t conceal the fact he was being discharged for being an asshole, I couldn’t seem to paint a very rosy picture of what it would mean for a new care facility to take him in.
The first place smelled nice, and there were birds. Not like birds flying around randomly in the hallways and shitting on residents, but they had a large aviary. It was stunning actually. And then I imagined my father trying to rip a head off a gold finch and exactly what that phone call would be like. Could they ethically discharge him for killing a bird? No matter, Ingrid, the head nurse, quickly reviewed the paperwork I’d brought with me, and then she smiled curtly, her lips barely pulling up more than a tight rigid line.
“I’m afraid we’re just not equipped for your father’s … special needs.”
“You have an Alzheimer’s wing. I thought that was exactly the type of—”
“I’m sorry,” she’d cut me off.
I stood, looking around for a moment. “It’s probably better for all birds involved.” I shrugged and walked out.
The next two places were no better. One didn’t outright reject my dad, but I suspected the paperwork wouldn’t pass muster once I was out the door.
The other just flat out said, “No, Mr. Thorson. No.” And then she’d smiled sweetly. “If you’re going to be in town for the night, though, perhaps you’d like to—”
“No, Ms. Care Facility Administrator. No,” I’d replied as I stood and walked away.
When I climbed back in the truck, I sat there and let my head fall back as I gripped the steering wheel. It was nearly evening and the sun was already starting to drop. At this rate it would be long past dark by the time I made it back to Hazleton. But I couldn’t say I minded. I was oddly and quite uncharacteristically happy.
“So, where are you taking me?” Helene smiled at me as she slid into Dad’s truck.
I smirked. “Home improvement store.” I eyed her knee that was peeking out from underneath the charcoal gray skirt she wore. She liked to look nice, and she was damn good at it. This particular skirt was wool and it pleated out from the very fitted waist. She’d tucked a lighter gray long sleeve knit shirt in that hugged her small tits perfectly, and she was wearing a simple pair of patent leather red ballet flats.
She laughed. “Well, okay then. The home improvement store it is,” she responded as she fastened her seatbelt. “And what is at this store that you think will hasten getting my … fingers … around…” she seemed to be losing the nerve to repeat my rather crude statement from that morning with every word out of her mouth.
I reached over and took her hand. “Kitchen flooring, trim, and pulls for the kitchen cabinets. And if you’re lucky, a few light fixtures as well.”
“I always knew you were a romantic,” she commented with a sheepish smile.
But before my mouth had the chance to say something gentlemanly, the over-sexed, orgasm deprived part of my brain kicked in, and I slammed on the brakes before I was even out of the driveway, and I threw the truck into park.
Her driveway was lined on the perimeter side by thick tangles of overgrown trees, and it was dark out at this point. But I could still see her wide startled eyes as she stared at me from the passenger side. Her lips were parted, and her hand was braced on the door from the sudden jolt of the car stopping.
I undid my seatbelt even as I leaned toward her, and as soon as I was out of mine, I undid hers with one hand as my other snaked between her legs and pulled her nearest leg toward me. She was panting as she watched me, and when I clasped my hand on the back of her knee and tugged her across the seat, she gasped.
Her skirt rode up as she slid, and I hunched over her, using one hand to pull the fabric of her underwear aside and the other to spread the lips of her *. And then I lapped wetly over her clit as she moaned. She was lounged back awkwardly against the door, and I focused on the shadowed sight of her face as she watched me lick her *.
She wedged one foot against the dashboard, and the other she lifted to rest on the back of the bench seat.
“That’s it, baby. Spread your legs wide,” I murmured against her skin, and then I sank my tongue into her *, flicking that sensitive skin with the tip of it.