The Boyfriend's Dad(21)

“W-What do you mean, Mort.” Carla stuttered, confused momentarily by his sudden serious tone. “Y-You sound as though something were wrong.”

“Yes, my dear,” he grimaced. “Something is wrong. And it involves the conduct of your daughter and her young girlfriend, Nancy.”

“Well for God’s sake tell me,” the young voluptuous women demanded, lifting her glass automatically for the offered drink. “It can’t be so horrible. They’re both nice young kids.”

“I’m afraid, Carla,” McDonald looked straight into her eyes now, “that they’re not quite the innocent little things you seem to think they are. I caught them in a very compromising position with my son and a friend of his.”

“Oh Mort, surely a little innocent petting isn’t going to upset you. After all, this younger generation is a lot more casual in their ways than we were during our time.”

“I’m not talking about innocent little petting.” His eyes dropped again away from Carla’s as though he were having difficulty saying the words. “I’m talking about stripped down naked petting.”

“A-About w-what?” the blood drained from the open mouthed young woman and she quickly raised the glass to her lips, draining the contents completely. “I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I-I needed that.”

“It’s perfect understandable. I think we both need it.” He echoed her feeling by lifting his glass also and emptying it without pause.

Carla’s head reeled from the combination of the alcohol and the sudden revelation about Tamara. She just couldn’t believe that Mort McDonald was telling the truth. He must be lying, oh God, he must be.

But why, why would he make up such a story. It just didn’t seem like him.

“Mort,” her tone changed to one of motherly indignation. “I don’t believe what you are saying. I’ve brought Tamera up to be a nice girl and I have no reason to doubt her just because you—you say so.”

“I think you had better have another drink, Carla.” McDonald shook his head slowly as though a great weight were on his shoulders. “I-I wanted to spare you this but… I guess I’ll have to show them to you.”

“Show me what?” Carla asked hurriedly, a slight catch rising in her throat. “Surely you don’t have any proof other than your word.”

“I took some pictures,” he admitted candidly.

“Y-You what?” the now visibly trembling young mother half shrieked. “Of… of Tamera and your son.”

“Yes, I did,” his seriousness changing slowly, almost imperceptibly to a thin lewd grin. “I wanted to make certain the girls didn’t cry rape afterwards and get the boys in trouble. Just a little precautionary measure.”

“W-Why that’s the most despicable thing I’ve ever heard of,” Carla retorted angrily. “I want you to get out of this house immediately, Mr. McDonald, and don’t bother coming back again.”

She rose from her seat, her face white and her body trembling from the horrible shock it had just received, but she immediately fell back again from the forgotten effects of the large quantity of alcohol she had consumed during the afternoon.

“There, there,” McDonald smilingly consoled. “No need to get all upset over the girls making out with the boys a little. As you said yourself, this young generation’s way ahead of us.”

“Mr. McDonald,” the still trembling young woman demanded and at the same time fought vainly against the alcohol daze spreading over her mind. “I asked you to leave!”

Eddie’s father’s smile slowly faded and an unmistakable coldness flickered into his eyes causing the distraught Carla to freeze momentarily as she sat.

“Not until you see the pictures, every one of them, and get it clear in your mind that my boy wasn’t the only one at fault. Your hot-pants’ed little daughter and her girlfriend were fucking, like two turned-on minks.”

“P-Please don’t use words like that,” Carla groaned, knowing that she was helpless to do anything if what he said was true. “I’ll look at the pictures, if—if you’ll promise to go afterwards.”

“No promises, Carla,” he smiled again, this time with a slight suggestive leer on his lips. “Let’s just play it by ear, shall we?”

She shook her head in abject assent, knowing full well she had absolutely no choice in the matter.

“That’s a good girl,” McDonald purred, “now get us another bottle and let’s fortify ourselves for the pictures we’ve got to go through, shall we?”