School of Sex
Rhonda let her overnight bag slip from her shoulder as she shouted, “Hello?” again. Emptiness made the word echo too loudly.
She’d come home from college to celebrate her mother’s birthday. She’d phoned ahead, too, so Mom would expect her visit, and they could plan a long weekend together. However, it looked liked Carla Fielding had ditched her, as usual. Sighing, she went to the kitchen to look for a note, hoping for the best, hating herself for thinking the worst.
No note waited, so she assumed Carla was out with Denny—the latest in her mother’s never ending string of disposable boyfriends. Rhonda admired her mom’s sexual liberation. She just wished the woman picked better lovers. Not ones who encouraged Carla’s drinking. From her last visit during Christmas break, she knew mom had quit her AA meetings for the new guy in her life.
She tried to push thoughts of Mom from her mind to keep from worrying. While she searched the fridge for something to eat, the intercom next to the oven buzzed, making her jump.
She pushed the button and spoke. “Mom?”
“Hey, girl.” The voice of her ex-step dad, Ricky Moretti, drifted through the antiquated speaker. “It’s cold out here. Let me in.”
She laughed. “You sound like one of your cheesy love songs.”
“Ouch,” he said, but she heard him chuckle. “Nice to see you’ve still got a mouth on you.”
Rhonda pushed the button to unlock the gate and tried to ignore the thudding of her heart. Quickly, she ran to the large oval mirror in the foyer to check her appearance. Her eyes were too big and far apart, but at least the mascara and eyeliner brought out the amber of her irises. She hated her glasses, and thought once again of laser surgery, but the expenses of college made her practical side rule that out for now. Her hair looked nice—shiny and golden brown, with just a touch of red. Frowning drew her cupid bow lips down, as she poked her nose, which she found too big for her long face. She pulled her purple sweater over her slender hips and turned sideways. What she saw looked pretty good, but she’d always thought herself somewhat frumpy. Still, it would have to do.
Ricky Moretti was the only man her mother had married that fit into the ‘nice guy’ category. Generally, Mom was attracted to slime, but Ricky was one of the rare few Carla had been with that Rhonda had truly connected with, even looked up to and thought of as her protector at one time. He’d even set up a trust fund for Rhonda when he and Carla split three years ago.
Lead guitarist of the hard rock band Devoid, Ricky had made a name for himself during the 80s as a superior axe shredder. When Carla married him, Rhonda had been star-struck. She’d been a big fan of his band, and his guitar-playing in particular. Labeled the “rock ‘n’ roll baddie with boy-next-door looks” by the media, Ricky was the most elusive member of Devoid.
As a hormonal teen, it had been sheer torture living with a man she lusted after, but was too young to act on her wants. Now, she pondered the prospect of seducing her former step dad. How would he feel if she confessed her longstanding crush? Would it weird him out, since he’d acted like the only real dad she’d ever known those brief years mom and he were married? Would it turn him on? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d attempted seducing him.
Her heart kicked it up a notch as she heard him coming toward the kitchen. When he stepped under the blue light cast by the fluorescents, it thudded against her ribs. His long, blond hair fell to his shoulders in waves, and his heart-shaped face broke into a wide, dazzling grin. One would guess him thirty years old, but she knew he’d turn forty-five on his next birthday. How did the man cheat aging like that? She hoped she’d be as lucky twenty years from now.
As she took in his tight jeans, loose silk shirt, and leather jacket, a plan to get laid formed in her head.
“Dude.” She bluffed confidence and attitude, as she always did in his presence. “It is so great to see you!” Rhonda held her arms open for a hug. Ricky didn’t need to know she’d secretly be copping a feel.
He grabbed her in a tight embrace, and she stroked her hands up and down his muscular back, trying to show more than friendly interest with the touch.
“It’s great to see you, too,” he said, and the hug lingered. She wondered if her efforts were working, or was it just because they hadn’t seen each other in a while. “Where’s your mom?”
Briefly, her thoughts of seduction withered. “Ah…you know Mom. Spur of the moment type of gal. Especially when she’s on the bottle.”
His handsome face crinkled in concern. “Shit…she fell off again?”