The Making of a Gigolo (11) - Renee Zimmerman
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Renee was agitated again by the time they got to her house. That was because Bobby ignored her for the whole trip. He responded to her comments, but didn't drive the conversation forward. He almost acted like one of the men her father would have had drive her here or there, doing his job, and not attempting to mix with his betters.
Why that bothered her, she didn't explore. All she knew was that it did. She didn't think about the fact that she had rebuffed him, earlier ... had rebuffed him several times since meeting him. All she knew was that he should be paying more attention to her than he was, and it bothered her.
"The twins have been signing people up," he said, astonishing her, as he set her bags down in the new play room. "You already have eight customers. They're hoping you'll hire them in return for that."
"Of course I will," said Renee, cringing as she engaged in tit for tat. She had no choice, really. She couldn't take care of eight children by herself.
"I'll have them call you when I get home," he said.
Then, without another word, he just left ... getting in his car and driving away.
She wanted to scream again.
Renee didn't have time to scream at anything. Her customers started bringing her their children as soon as she was back from talking to her parents. Not only did she hire Betty and Matilda as aides, she hired Linda full time, and four other girls on a part time basis too. The school schedule allowed the girls to work at different times of the day, which worked out well for all of them. Employment opportunities in Granger were few, and Renee's new business brightened the lives of more than just her customers.
Within two weeks she had twelve children in her care on a more or less daily basis. There were also usually four or five drop-ins, but most of those were older children, who were normally cared for at home. Their mothers expressed their delight at Renee giving them the chance to go shopping, or visit friends, without having to take a child along with them.
She didn't have to do any advertising. Word got around amazingly quickly. It seemed like no time at all before the cavernous great room she and Bobby had built, seemed cramped and small because of all the children that filled it. She had to send Linda to Wichita to get art supplies and other things she was running out of.
Bobby stopped in, occasionally, to see how she was doing and see if anything needed to be repaired. He seemed to know, somehow, when most of the children would be down for a nap, and Renee would have more than fifteen seconds to talk. He was popular with the kids who weren't sleeping, some of whom knew him and called him "Uncle Bobby", even though they were from different families. He played horsy with them, or helped them with whatever they were working on or playing with.
He looked like any young father playing with his kids.
Bobby was lying on his bed, reading, when there was a tap at his door. It opened slightly.
"Are you alone?" came Suzie's voice.
"Yeah," he said, grinning.
She stuck her head in, apparently looking to make sure.
"Why would anybody be in here?" he asked, teasing her a little.
"I know what you do in here!" she snorted.
"Is that why you're here?" he teased.
"Of course not," she said placidly. "I already told you that."
"I know," he said. "I was just teasing you. What's up?"
She came in. The fact that she felt comfortable sitting on the edge of the bed might have had something to do with the fact that now that it was winter, he wore sweats to bed.
"I applied to K-State today," she said, frowning.
"That's great," said her brother. "I'm proud of you. I know you'll make it in. You've been working really hard."
"I'm not worried about that part," said Suzie. "My guidance counselor says there's no problem at all there. The problem is that it costs too much."
"We'll work something out," said Bobby.
"You always say that," she moaned. "And you know how much I appreciate you paying for me to go to summer school in Wichita, but this is different. This is a lot of money. Tuition is expensive, even if it is a state school."
"I know," said Bobby, closing his book.
"And then there's room and board on top of that!" moaned Suzie. "I don't see any way it can happen."
"Did you apply for scholarships?" asked Bobby.
"Yes," she said glumly. "But I won't hear about them until graduation, probably."
"You can get a summer job, and save that up," said Bobby.
"I will," she said, "but it won't be enough."
"We'll figure something out," said Bobby. "It's too important for us to have a doctor in the family, to let a little thing like money stop you." He grinned. "I might get sick some day, and you know how expensive doctors are."
She looked at him, but didn't smile.
"I'll never be a doctor," she said.
"Yes you will," said Bobby. "Don't you worry about the tuition. You'll get some scholarships, and we'll find a way to make the rest of it happen. You are going to be a doctor, Suzie."
"Do you really think so?" she whined.
"I know so," he said. "You want to give me a physical, just for practice?"
She stood up and put her hands on her hips.
"Linda may play with it, and let you hump her like that, but she's crazy. I'm not crazy!"
Bobby grinned. "That's why you'll make it through medical school. You're not crazy."
Still standing there, with her hands still on her hips, Suzie stared down at him.
"I love you, you know," she said. "Even if you do those things with Linda."
"I love you too," said Bobby. "And you don't have to worry about anything like that happening between you and me," he added.
"I know," said his little sister. "That's why I know you really do love me."
It was June, and the weather was beginning to suggest that summer was finally almost here. Renee sat at her desk, looking through her accounts. She hadn't been aware of how much paperwork would be needed to run a simple little business.
She stared at her ledger book. There was money in the account ... money she had earned ... money that had not just been given to her. That made her chest tight with pride. She had begun implementing the preschool program, and that was working well. She'd needed to hire another full time woman, to take care of the babies, while she put into practice what she had learned in college. The kids ate it up, and the parents were delighted that their children were learning things that, years ago, they wouldn't have learned until they were in kindergarten.
She sat, staring at the ledger. She had a business. She had friends. She had even had time to go to dinner at Mirriam's a few times. Her annulment was still being processed, but Father Michael said that, in this situation, no news was good news. He insisted that the fact there had been no requests from higher up for more information meant that things were being handled routinely. He admitted he was happy (though he reminded her pride was a sin) because this was the first time in his career he had attempted to process an annulment.
She thought about all the good things that had happened in her life, and was thankful for them. There was one thing she didn't have though. She didn't have a man.
Her schedule was too hectic to get involved in dating. For that matter, the available pool of men to date was pretty shallow. Most young men left Granger to go to college, or to find better paying work, or just to get away from a small town. It sometimes made her wonder where all these children came from.
She was tired at the end of the day too. It was a good kind of tired, but it was still exhaustion. The effort of meeting a man, and playing all the games that dating required, just seemed like too big a task for her to take on right now.
Whenever she thought about men, she thought about Bobby. He was available. But she couldn't think about getting serious with a man who had who knew how many women panting after him ... women he ... did things with.
Still, he didn't seem odd to her any more. She didn't feel that misty, unformed dread about him anymore. She knew him well enough by now to know that he wasn't at all like any gigolo she'd ever heard bout before. Sometimes she had a difficult time even believing what he'd told her. All she had to do whenever she began doubting, though, was remember Jill's voice, saying, "I need to get laid bad, Bobby!"
As if thinking about him summoned him, Bobby stepped through the front door.
"It seems so quiet," he said, looking around at the empty room.
She looked at him. She hadn't called him, or asked him to come over. He just showed up ... dropping by ... like a friend.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi, yourself," he returned, smiling. "How's it going?"
"Wonderful," she said. "I'm going to have to find another full time worker, for the babies." She cocked her head. "You know anybody who might be interested?"
He thought for a minute. "I don't know. I'll check around."
He came to the chair, on the other side of her desk. "You hungry?" he asked.
"Are you asking out on a date?" she heard her voice say. Why had she said that?
"Well, no ... not actually," he said. "I just thought you might be hungry. I am." He cocked his head at her. "Why? Do you want me to ask you out on a date?"
The first thing she thought about was his peculiar way of asking that kind of question. Some other man would have just asked her out, tried his hand, given it a shot. But he was blunt and just asked her what she wanted. She thought about that. It suddenly occurred to her that she could ... hire Bobby ... hire him to take her out. Would he do that? What did a gigolo expect to do when he was hired?
"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.
"Sure," he said.
"If I hired you ... to take me on a date ... what would that mean?"
"First off, you don't have to hire me," he said, grinning. "I'd take you on a date anyway."
She tried to think about that, but it was too tumultuous. If they just "went on a date" it would be too much like ... dating. It didn't fit with her perception of him, wild and unformed though that was.
"I'm just trying to understand what you'd ... expect." She wanted to close her eyes. This wasn't working out very well.
"Oh, you mean because of all those other women." He said it as a statement, and not a question.
"I guess so," she said, weakly.
"Well, I guess that depends," he said, as easily as if she had asked him what kind of food he liked. "If a woman hires me, I do what she wants me to."
"That's it?" she asked, astonished.
"It's not as simple or clear-cut as it sounds," he said casually. "Sometimes the woman doesn't know what she wants."
"How can a woman not know what she wants?" asked Renee.
"Have you ever been to a restaurant, and looked at the menu, and thought that lots of things looked good, and then there were things you'd never tried before, and you had a hard time figuring out what to order?" he asked.
"Sure," she said.
"It's a little like that," he said. "Sometimes a woman doesn't really know what she'll like, or what to ask for. Sometimes you just have to play it by ear."
"But that's just like ... dating," said Renee.
"I guess it is," said Bobby.
"How in the world did you get started doing ... what you do?" asked Renee, entranced by how normal he made it sound, but thinking about how bizarre it really was.
"Are you hungry or not?" he asked. "Like I said, I am. Couldn't we talk about this while we eat?"
"Oh!" She suddenly felt flustered. "Okay," she agreed.
"It's not a date," said Bobby, grinning. "It's just to get something to eat."
"We have to go dutch then," said Renee, not believing she actually said it.
"Of course," said Bobby. "Unless you want to buy me dinner. I'm fine with that."
"You asked me to go," she said. "I can't buy you dinner unless I ask you to go." She grinned. She couldn't believe how much fun it was to do this kind of thing with him. He teased her, and she teased him back. It was just fun.
"Dutch treat it is," said Bobby. "Now, can we go?"
They went in his car, and they went to the Wagon Wheel, which was open until nine. Sal had new waitresses, since Jill and Christy had quit to run the photo studio full time. Bobby ordered as soon as the waitress showed them to a booth. Renee took the menu, and said she'd order when the waitress brought them their drinks.
He leaned forward, with his elbows on the table.
"Now, what's this all about?" he asked.
"I didn't mean to pry," she said. "It's just that I'm so busy ... and I haven't met any interesting men ..." she trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"And you miss being with a man?" asked Bobby, his eyes glittering.
Renee felt her face get even hotter. "Not like that," she moaned.
"Like what?" he asked innocently, leaning back.
"I know what you meant!" she accused.
"What did I mean?" he asked, just as innocently.
"Don't tease me now, Bobby," she sighed. "Everything is going so well, but I need to have some fun too."
"Okay," he said, relenting. "So you want to go on a date or two, and just have some fun ... right?"
"Yeah," she said, relieved that he seemed to understand.
"I'd be happy to do that with you," he said calmly. "But ..."
"But what?" she asked, automatically.
"You should probably hire me to do that," he said.
"I thought you said that wasn't necessary!" she yipped.
"Well, I'd really like to go on a date with you," he said. "But, the thing is that on a regular date, I might do something that would make you feel uncomfortable. If you hire me, you call all the shots, and I won't get ... carried away."
"Why would you get carried away?" she asked.
"Renee, you're a bombshell," he said, almost sadly. "I'm very attracted to you."
She blinked. He'd flirted with her before ... but nothing like this. She had no idea he thought about her like ... what? How did he think about her?
"But you've never ..." What had he never done? He'd never made a pass at her, but she'd feel stupid saying that.
"I've tried to be what you wanted me to be," said Bobby. "All you wanted was someone to help you a little ... to be your friend, right?"
"I guess so," she said weakly.
"Okay, so I tried to behave myself," he said.
"Your husband was an idiot for messing with drugs," said Bobby. "He was also an idiot for not concentrating on you. You're beautiful, talented, and smart. You started a business and made it work in just a few months. He could be here ... sleeping with you ... but he was too stupid to think about that. I'm not."
Renee almost gasped.
"You want to sleep with me?" she squeaked.
"Any man would," he said quietly.
Her first instinct was to just get up and run, but she conquered that fear. No, it wasn't fear. She was just ... uncomfortable. Had he said these things before they worked on her house, they would have scared her to death. But part of her mind told her she could trust him. Still, she needed a little more information before she could relax.
"How long have you wanted to ...?" She couldn't say it again.
"Oh, I don't know," he said casually. "Probably since I visited you in the hospital."
"That long?" she gasped.
"Hey, I'm a man," said Bobby, holding his hands up, palms facing her. "Don't hate me for being a man."
"I don't hate you," she said instantly. She wondered where that came from too, and then realized it was the simple truth.
"Anyway," he said. "You didn't need that in your life, so I behaved myself. I don't really think you need that in your life right now either, but I could be wrong. In any case, if you hire me, that will make it easier for me to keep behaving myself."
It was a twisted kind of logic ... a gigolo, suggesting that a woman hire him to not make sexual advances toward her. But, for Renee, it seemed perfectly logical, for some reason.
"How much?" she asked.
"To hire me?" he said, grinning. "Normally, I just let the woman decide what it was worth to her," he said. "In your case, since we're buddies and all that, I'll break that rule. How about five dollars?"
She almost choked on the sip of soda she was drinking to ease the dryness in her mouth. She coughed, while he looked concerned.
"Only five dollars?" she finally gasped.
"I can charge you ten, if it will make you feel better," he said.
She wanted to throw something at him, but the only thing on the table was her Coke, and a napkin.
"You'd behave yourself for only five dollars?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he said.
The whole conversation seemed so strange that it didn't seem any stranger to take it further.
"If I ... hired you ... where would we go?" she asked.
"Well, maybe you should decide that," said Bobby. "What do you like to do on dates?"
"I haven't been on one for years," said Renee. "I love roller skating."
"There's a rink in Hutch," said Bobby. "I have to tell you though, I don't skate very well."
Renee skated very well indeed. As a teen, she had spent hours and hours at the rink, learning to dance on skates and speed skate. She felt as at home on skates as she did on bare feet. She was so overwhelmed by Bobby, at this point, that the idea of her being better than him at something was very appealing.
"It's my date," she said suddenly. "I want to go skating."
He looked pained, and she realized he was like any other man, forced to do something he thought he looked silly doing. That made her feel better too, for some reason. He had seemed so much larger than life up to this point. Now she saw a dent in his armor.
"Okay," he said. "You're right. It's your date."
Renee felt like she had done something very important ... or very dangerous ... she wasn't sure which. But, as she realized she had just hired a gigolo, to take her on a date, rather than feeling like things had suddenly become ludicrous, she felt like she was, finally, taking complete control of her life.
It felt good.
Renee had a grin pasted on her face that wasn't going to go away any time soon. She'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to whiz around the rink, fast enough that the wind blew her hair back. She was having a lot of fun.
Part of that fun was because Bobby hadn't been kidding when he’d said he wasn't a skater. He fell twice, before he even got out of the spectator area, which had carpet on the floor, where they put their rented skates on. He clutched at everything within reach, as his legs seemed to want to go in opposite directions. She laughed, not at him, exactly, but because it was humorous that such a big, strong, capable man could look so helpless.
He stayed on the rail at the edge of the rink, and pulled himself forward with dogged determination that made Renee respect him, and she dashed by him several times, turning to skate backwards as she went by, yelling encouragement to him.
She was showing off. She knew that. But she couldn't help it. It was such a stark change from their normal relationship, where Bobby knew everything, and seemed to be so in control of everything as well. He seemed to be staring at his feet most of the time, as if they were foreign objects. She had no idea that he watched her, in reality, or that her carefree happiness made her look incredibly sexy. A healthy, happy woman in the prime of her life, doing something she loves, usually looks that way, though most women don't think about it that way.
Finally, she got enough speed under her belt that she calmed down, and went to help him. She came up behind him, reaching for one of his hands, which was white-knuckled on the railing.
"Let me pull you," she said, prying his hand off the railing.
As soon as he let go, she pulled him away from the railing, breaking the grip of his other hand in pure surprise. His feet went out from under him and he flailed his free arm helplessly. It was only natural, like a drowning person often grasps for the person trying to save him, that he lunged toward her.
They went down in a heap. He hit hard on his left hip, with his legs more or less straight, while she fell across him, facing away from his head. She laughed, and then looked at her chest, where his right hand was firmly clamped onto her right breast.
He pulled on her breast to sit up, and then snatched his hand away.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
She rolled off of him and stood easily.
"I thought you weren't going to lose control," she teased. She knew he hadn't done it on purpose.
"Control is a word that fled, as soon as I put on these things!" he groused, pointing at his feet.
"Come on," she laughed. "I'll help you. It's not hard at all."
"Easy for you to say," he said darkly.
But he levered himself up onto his knees, and put a foot under him. That foot started to shoot forward, as soon as he put weight on it, and Renee chocked it with her own foot, as she pulled him up by an elbow. His hands wavered, and then he stood, stock still.
"This is good," he said, standing there.
"You're supposed to move," she said, laughing.
She turned, facing away from him and bent forward slightly. It looked like she was sticking her butt out at him, and she looked over her shoulder.
"Put your hands on my hips," she said. "Stabilize yourself, and I'll pull you. Once you get going, you'll get the hang of it. I promise."
She felt his strong hands clamp onto her hips like vises, and started off slowly. She built up a little speed, with short pushing strokes of her legs, outwards and then inwards and felt like they were making progress when she had to slow for another skater who cut across her path. Bobby's feet went forward, hit her heels, and the next thing she knew she was falling again.
When falling, at least in a skating rink, it is only natural to roll as you go down. Other skaters are always in your mind, and landing on your butt or back allows you to see if anybody is about to run over you and roll away from them. It was for that reason that Renee rolled as she went down, landing on her butt, which slid. At the same time, she realized that Bobby's bulk was looming over her ... coming toward her. He was going to fall on top of her, and she lay back, rather than take all his weight on her head. She closed her eyes and snatched a deep breath, expecting to be crushed in a second or two.
When that didn't happen, her eyes popped open, to see his face directly above hers. She lifted her head and saw that his legs were spread, and his toes were on the floor. His arms were spread too, making him look like a sky diver in free fall. He had caught himself on his toes and his hands, displaying incredible strength, which had kept him from actually falling on top of her.
Still, there was only inches between them. His chest was grazing the tips of her breasts, in fact.
"Sorry," he said, right into her mouth.
"Let me up, and we'll try again," she said back.
"I don't think I can move," he said. "If I move anything, I'm going to fall on you."
She wiggled out from under him, sliding upwards, using his shoulders to help her move. His chin slid between her breasts. Had it been a few inches to either side, she would have rubbed his face with a breast. As soon as her hips passed his face, his knees came down, and he was able to assume a hands and knees position.
Renee stood, and looked down at the poor man. He looked up, and grinned.
"That wasn't so bad," he said.
She giggled, and pulled him up again.
"Okay," she said. "Let's try it a different way. I'll get behind you, and hold your hips, and push. We won't go fast, okay?"
That worked much better. She pushed, and he held his legs rigid, his upper body leaning forward, and back, to keep his balance, while his arms waved like a Hula dancer's.
They made three full circuits around the floor, and he did catch on, at least in terms of retaining his balance and letting his legs adjust to his weight on rolling wheels. He still couldn't propel himself, but he could at least stay up. She switched to holding his hand, and pulling him along with her, and they made five more circuits.
"This is hard work!" he said, wiping his brow with his free hand. "Let's get something to drink."
"Okay," she said, gaily. "Just head for that opening over there." She pointed and gave him an extra tug, letting go of his hand.
He almost made it. He stayed up, but, not knowing how to push himself along, he moved slower and slower until he was standing, still six feet away from the opening.
She laughed again, and skated up behind him to give him a push to get him the rest of the way there. Her hands, on his lower back destroyed his balance, and he flailed. His feet shot backwards, and Renee's skates ran into them, pitching her forward too.
Bobby twisted, just like she had, and landed on his back. Renee, though, had neither the strength nor presence of mind to try a four point landing, and flopped on top of him. His arms went to the small of her back.
She was panting from the exertion of skating, and being excited. His face was right in front of hers, and he was panting too. She felt his chest pushing at her breasts as they both drew in air. She realized her loins were pressed to his ... she could feel his manhood, in his tight jeans. His arms around her felt strong, and a subconscious part of her mind felt good, being in an embrace again, despite the cause, or the situation.
"Hi," he said, grinning. "So nice that you could drop in."
She felt suddenly uncomfortable in his embrace ... at touching him so closely ... as part of her mind said, "Hmmmm, this is kind of nice." She struggled to get up, and, as she brought her knee up, the toe of her other foot slipped. Her knee impacted his groin firmly.
His groan was both explosive and horrible to hear.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she blurted, rolling to the side, as he curled up.
"'Sokay," he groaned, trying to roll on over to his hands and knees, not wanting to appear disabled.
He made it, and crawled the rest of the way to the carpeted floor. He continued to crawl to a chair, which he used to pull himself up, so he could plop down into it. He looked pale.
"I'm so, so sorry," she said, getting up and walking on her skates across the carpet, to sit down beside him.
"I promised I'd behave myself," he groaned. "You didn't need to do that."
His comment struck her funny bone, in that inappropriate way that sometimes happens, where something that's not really funny seems hilarious, and she started giggling. She had, after all, reduced this big, strong, sometimes scary man to something akin to a little boy.
He just glared at her, until she got control of her giggles.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't know why I laughed. It's not funny."
"We are in agreement on that matter," he said, his voice a little firmer.
"You sit here," she said. "I'll go get us something to drink."
"Okay," he said, agreeing quickly. The thought of trying to negotiate the distance to and from the snack bar, half of which would require that he carry a cup of liquid, didn't appeal to him. The pain had dulled, but was still there. She hadn't hit him all that hard, but it had been completely unexpected, and he hadn't been able to mitigate the blow.
When she returned with their drinks, he was feeling much better. They stayed another hour, during which Bobby watched as she went out on the floor and did her thing. She was poetry in motion, from his perspective. Seeing her whirl and race and move as if she were on bare feet, instead of slippery rolling wheels, left him in genuine awe.
She tried to get him to come back out, for a few more circuits together, but he admitted defeat, and said he'd had enough. On the way back to Granger, she apologized again, and he brushed it off.
"At least let me make it up to you," she said, as they entered town. "How about I hire you for another date?"
He looked over at her. "I'm not sure I can survive another date with you." He grinned though, and made it clear he wasn't mad. "No more roller skating, okay?"
"Deal!" she said. "We'll do something nice and sedate that won't hurt you." She giggled again, and then straightened her face.
Renee didn't call him again, right away to set up the next date. That's because, after he took her home, and walked her to the door, and lied about having a good time before leaving, she realized she had had a good time. It had been a fun, light kind of time for her. She hadn't thought about any of her problems the whole time they were out. That, in itself was a problem, of sorts. She had liked him before they went out, and she liked him even more now. He had sacrificed, for her. Sure, she had "hired" him, but she knew that was a pretense. It had been a date, plain and simple. Two people had gone out. One of them had had fun, and the other had helped her have fun. She liked that, and she liked him. It was the eagerness with which she looked forward to doing something else with him that caused her to delay.
She didn't want to be that eager to be with him.
Paul Engle came home from college for the summer. He basically just moved into Mirriam's house, and lived in Linda's room. He would work for his father all summer, and then go back to school. He spent hours stroking Linda's swelling belly, and even more hours making love to her. She was insatiable, and he felt like the luckiest man alive.
Bobby had jobs to do, and other women to take care of, so it didn't matter to him that Renee seemed to be having second thoughts about another date. The 4th of July was coming up, and that was a day that had many fond memories for Bobby. He looked forward to the town celebration. He'd missed one of them because he was busy and tired, and didn't want to miss another, with the opportunity he'd have to mingle with all the women he'd made love to, in a social setting. It was always good for some serious flirting.
Liz Sinderson, who had asked him over about once a month, since he had gotten her pregnant, so they could make love while her husband, Jeff, watched, went into labor late on the night of the third of July. It had been only a year before that Bobby had necked with her in the darkness, at the 4th of July celebration, while Jeff watched from the shadows.
Jeff, who might be exceptionally subservient when it came to watching another man pleasure his wife, was decisive and in firm control of the rest of his life. He got Liz to the hospital and then, knowing Bobby would want to know, called him to tell him. Bobby went down and sat with his very strange friend, until, at about three in the morning, Liz pushed out a healthy son. They had already decided to name the baby Phillip, if it was a boy, and Bobby choked his way through some of a cigar, out in the parking lot, before Jeff would let him go home.
He visited Liz in the hospital the next day, and she was radiant. She was holding the baby, who was asleep.
"He's yours," she whispered to Bobby after he kissed her hello. "Jeff took one look at him and said it was obvious."
"Is he upset?" asked Bobby.
"No. He's excited!" she sighed. "Now he says he can't wait until we can have sex again, so he can make one with me himself. It's just so strange, I don't know what to do!"
"I guess our relationship has always been a little complicated and strange," admitted Bobby.
"He was so proud," she said, smiling. "He said it didn't matter whose it was, because I did it for him." She frowned. "Still ... I don't know if he'll want me to keep having you over," she said, tentatively.
"Whatever you two want is what I want," said Bobby.
"That's why we love you so much," she sighed. "As strange as all this has been, we know you care about us, and that makes all the difference in the world, Bobby. It really does."
"Well, you have some time to think about it, and talk to him about it," said Bobby. "I'm glad he's taking this so well."
She looked at the baby, and then up at the baby's father.
"He's perfect in every way. You make very good little boys."
Bobby grinned. "With the kind of motivation you gave me, it was easy."
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