Nikos

“I can go to the toilet myself, Nikos!”

“I’m not going to hold your pecker, Dad! I’m just following you in case you need an assist. Jesus. I think we’ve already gone over this.”

He looks over his shoulder and gives me “the look”. I rethink my tone. If that isn’t successful brainwashing I don’t know what is. This is a variation on a theme. Each morning as my father begins his day we have words. They’re usually not as heated. Ten minutes ago the sports commentators criticized San Francisco’s star pitcher. It annoyed the hell out of him. That’s all it took to put him in this mood. He walks ahead of me into the bathroom and closes the door. I lean against the wall and wait.

I wonder if I can get the night off? It’s been more than a week since I’ve danced, or drank, or had sex. And no drugs. Well that’s not one hundred percent true. My morning workout is a kind of dance, I have wine with our meals, and then oh yeah, my dad and I have whiskey with our cigars. And before I start my day and sometimes after everyone’s in bed I’ve had to resort to jacking off. That’s my sex life for the next seven days. The same one I had at thirteen. The no drugs thing is true except for my pain meds. But I don’t count those.

All in all I’m leading a much cleaner life. This is a sort of cleanse, physically and spiritually. It’s weird, but after only a week I’m beginning to like this feeling of being needed. Even with all the crap my father and I give each other. In spite of that, it’s sort of satisfying being this guy. For once in my life I was the son called to action. Maybe it was by default but still it’s me.

Jenny knows what she’s doing and makes sure Valentino understands how important it is to do things right. He learned that on day one. I kinda like watching her boss him around. She does it with confidence. Little, but fierce. That should be her tag line.

I like fucking with her too. She’s an innocent this one, a girl next door with a twist. But I sense a playfulness hidden somewhere. I’m not sure if it’s untapped or not. The only reason I’m thinking that is the occasional smiles I get when no one else is looking and the look of shyness that comes with them. With eyes cast down it’s fucking sexy.

I’ve never seen any makeup on her. No painted nails or false lashes. No jewelry or intentionally sexy clothes. I’d like to see her hair out of those braids, although it kind of makes her look like a seductive schoolgirl. Kind of a young Britney Spears. She has this rosebud-shaped mouth and her natural lip color is a beautiful pink. They look kissable. When she speaks, my eyes automatically are drawn to them. I hadn’t noticed before yesterday, but her eye color is dark chocolate with light amber flecks. Come to think of it I’ve put a lot of thought into the details that make her. For some reason they keep replaying in my mind.

She and Nash must buy their clothes at the same place. Scrubs R Us. The only thing is, she wears them better. Yesterday she went off script. She ditched the scrubs and had on navy leggings with a tribal pattern down either side. That showed off her well-developed leg muscles, and an ass which I was glad to discover was especially round and high. She works out. The top she wore with them was close to her petite body. I bet I could encircle her waist with my two hands.

My father’s annoyed voice snaps me back to reality.

“Nikos! You out there?”

“Yeah, Dad. What you need?” As if I didn’t know.

“Come in. I need your help.”

This happens every time he decides he wants to do more than pee. He underestimates his needs at least every other day. I walk in to find him wearing a disgusted look.

“I’ve got to sit. And get me some godamned wipes. They’re under the cabinets.”

I retrieve the new package and load them into the plastic holder.

“Here. Want me to wait?” I say.

“No, godamned it! I don’t want an audience while I wipe my ass! Just help me down.”

“Okay. No worries.” I wait for him to drop his pants and then set him down like Jenny taught me. “Call when you’re ready.”

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he says to his broken leg. It doesn’t answer.

I’ve rarely heard my father swear. Until seven days ago.

This past week I’ve heard at least fifteen fucks, and a shitload of godamned its. My mother ignores his outbursts, but the rest of us think it’s kinda funny. Especially Max and Gregory who are the most likely candidates to feel the wrath of Valentino if he catches them laughing. God protect you sorry son of a bitches. Bad Grandpa’s not in the mood. Yesterday I heard them mimicking their grandfather’s new habit and laughing their asses off. Since Gregory’s voice dropped he’s become good at mimicking his family.

I hear Jenny’s voice coming from the kitchen, so I abandon my post. Taking a peek in the mirror as I pass and running my hands through my hair. I check my breath.

“Good morning,” I say casually as I round the corner.

My mother and Jenny are assembling the day’s platters. But my eyes aren’t on the food. Holy shit. No braids today. Her blonde hair is long and silky and falls straight. She’s wearing light-pink lipstick and if possible, it makes her lips even more of a tease. But the biggest shock to my system is how she’s dressed. Jean shorts that can’t help but hug that ass, cut-off Giants jersey that’s loose but highlights her toned torso, and tennis shoes. I swear I dreamed this exact scene. My dick just jumped in agreement.

“Morning,” she says. Taking a toothpick, she stabs a slice of strawberry and pops it in her mouth. “Want a bite?”

Hell yeah I want a bite. Of your ass.

“Sure,” I say as I take a cube of watermelon.

Washing her hands in the sink, my mother turns her head toward us.

“Your father asked Jenny to join us for brunch and the baseball game. She’s as big a fan as he is.”

“It was so nice of you both. I’m dying to watch them on your sixty-five inch television. Mine’s from the dark ages,” Jenny says with a chuckle.

“But you know the Dodgers are gonna win, right?” I say.

She touches her heart and fakes a faint as if my words have just stabbed her.

“I hope you’re kidding. With their best pitcher on the DL they don’t have a shot. What kind of Northern California guy are you?”

In reality, it’s only by chance I even know who’s playing today. I have no idea who’s favored to win, whose outfield or lineup is best, and I couldn’t care less about baseball. But Jenny doesn’t know any of that.

I see my mother’s face holding back a grin.

“Ready to put your money where your mouth is? Maybe a small wager?” I say.

“Oh yeah. That’s how sure of them I am. How about five dollars?”

“No. We need something more meaningful.” I think for a beat. I’ve got it. “Do you swim?”

That was brilliant of me. Maybe I’ll see her in a bikini.

She looks surprised. “Yes, what do you have in mind?”

“Loser has to do a cannonball off the diving rock. And they have to yell that their team sucks.”

She smiles. “No problem! You’re gonna look ridiculous doing that. And I’ll take a video and post it on Instagram.”

That makes us both laugh. Even my mother gets a kick out of it.

“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” I say.

“I’ve got stats to back me up.”

I like her confidence. Now all that has to happen is for the Dodgers to win.

“Did you bring a suit?” I ask hoping she’s a nudist.

“I always have one in the trunk of my car. Pool therapy.”

“Shall we shake on it then?” I say extending my hand.

I just want to touch her. The skin is soft, her handshake firm. I hold on to it a little longer than necessary and she’s surprised when I do, but doesn’t pull back. I lock eyes with her and give my best I’m gonna fuck you smile.

Off in the distance I hear my name being called. It gets louder.

“Nikos! Nikos! Nikos! Goddamnit, Nikos!”

“My God, it’s your father. Nikos, go help him!” says my mother.

I let go of Jenny’s hand and raise my eyebrows to punctuate the moment.

“Run! Run! Run you asshole!” hollers Jenny. Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes widen.

She’s standing, yelling at the television and got lost in the drama of the game-ending bad play. But she doesn’t have to hold back here. I’m the only one watching her. Everyone else is having their own conversation with their beloved Giants who just lost the game in spectacular fashion. Nash had to leave the room he’s so pissed, and Christos just threw an empty water bottle at the screen. Farrah and Kate are wearing their Giants hats and shirts, but they’re as depressed as the rest of them. Alexander’s explaining the finer points of the game to Joseph, and my mother’s giving someone on the team a lecture in Greek. If my father could stand he’d be right next to her, but as it is he’s laid out on the couch, swearing in Italian.

Lana and Robert are our most well-behaved fans. Every so often one of them gets up to check on the kids in the pool. Gregory’s old enough now to watch over his little sister Boo, and Max is there for backup.

I catch Jenny’s eye, point at her and lift the loser sign to my forehead. Then I put my palms together and make like I’m diving into a pool. At first I think she’s going to get pissed, but instead she laughs, picks up the white cloth napkin on the coffee table and waves it in defeat.

“Where’s Jenny?” says Kate.

We’re grazing at the buffet table, loading small plates of cheeses and fruits, and antipasto. I pop an olive into my mouth. The kids are out of the pool and filling their plates across from us.

“Upstairs changing into her swimsuit.” I lift an eyebrow in a silent message to my future sister-in-law.

She tilts her head in a show of surprise. “Really? Interesting,” she says.

Christos joins us and hands Kate her mimosa.

“What’s interesting?”

Kate leans in so the rest of the family doesn’t hear.

“Nikos is into Jenny,” she whispers.

“What are you people whispering about? Speak up!” my father calls across the room.

“Nikos has the hots for Jenny!” Gregory yells to him.

Max breaks up at his cousin’s announcement, but his laughter’s the only sound in the room. Everyone’s holding their breath. Kate offers me an I’m so sorry look then darts her eyes over my shoulder.

I feel it before I see it.

Jenny must be walking down the stairs and heard Gregory’s announcement. All the eyes in the room go to her. My parents’, the kids’, brothers’ the whole bunch. Except for mine. I’m too embarrassed, and I’m fairly unfamiliar with the feeling. Thankfully my mother takes the reins.

“Make sure you all try the agnolotti, it’s my mothers’ recipe. Gregory, come help me set the dining room table. You too, Max.”

The two boys reluctantly go with their grandmother. I turn to face Jenny as she reaches the bottom step. There’s a towel wrapped around her bottom half and she’s wearing a one piece. She’s not making eye contact with me and I don’t blame her. That fucking kid needs to shut the hell up.

“Okay, Nikos. Let’s get this over with.” She makes like she’s walking to her execution and hums the appropriate tune. “Dum dum dum dum, dum dum dum dum dum dum dum.”

The family is grateful for a laugh. It gets us past the uncomfortable moment.

That’s when she glances at me. She dips her chin, points and shakes her head right and left. “You’re a very mean man to make me do this.”

But everyone here can see she’s playing with me.

“Nasty as hell,” I confirm.

There’s whistles and catcalls from the audience. They’re enjoying the show.

“Well, come on, let’s all watch Jenny as she gives the Dodgers their due,” I say.

Chairs are scraped back and plates put down. But in a matter of seconds I see the silent agreement happening between my family members.

“No, you kids go. We’re going to watch the Giants after show,” my father says so all can hear.

It’s a cue to the rest of them to stay put. Thanks, Dad. He’s a man after all.

As she walks through the open doors to the outside, Jenny‘s talking to herself. “The Dodgers suck. The Giants are by far superior to them in talent, management, …”

I cut her off with instructions. “No, no. You’re supposed to say the Giants suck.”

I follow her outside.

“Not until I jump from the rock! You didn’t say anything about what I say beforehand.”

I take a seat on the lounge chair and clasp my hands behind my head, her captive audience of one.

“Oh God,” I hear her say under her breath.

She pauses in front of the big diving rock with the steps carved into the backside.

“I’m waiting,” I say.

“I must have been insane to agree to this.”

“Well, you can take your meds after you jump. Come on, quit delaying.”

I hear her take a deep breath. She drops the towel, but quickly starts her climb. I hardly have time to look her over. But what I can see is just about perfect for my tastes. She’s tiny, but her muscles are developed in a way that’s both feminine and strong. Her breasts are small and from this angle I can see erect nipples poking against the fabric of her red speedo. Nothing enhanced here, because why mess with a good thing?

She reaches the top and stands defiant, hands on her hips facing me. Her blonde hair lifts in the warm breeze. There’s a certain superhero quality to the stance.

“Please continue,” I call.

Facing front, she squats low and pushes off into the air. She pulls her legs close, grabs them and yells at the top of her lungs, “The Dodgers suck!” It’s an impressive cannonball. Cool water splashes all over me.

When her head bobs out I’ve got a message for her. “You’re gonna have to do that again you know, princess. I think you got one word wrong.”

She swims to the side of the pool where I lay and rests her arms on the tile. “I’m pretty sure I got everything right.” She grins.

Wow. The water beading on her lips and the wet hair. It’s hard not to stare.

I stand up. “Are you refusing to honor your bet?” I tease.

She turns on her back and floats away. “I can’t hear you,” is her retreating answer.

“Alright, you’ve forced me to take things into my own hands. I’m afraid you have to be punished, Jenny.”

That got her attention. She returns to the upright position and paddles in place. I remove my shirt.

“What are you doing?” she says.

“You got me wet.”

I hook my fingers in my sweats and slowly push them down.

Her hand comes up and fingers spread. “Wait! Don’t do that!”

I slide them down to reveal my black boxer briefs. They’re almost like a swim suit and God knows I’m not shy. If my family wasn’t so close, I’d strip them off too. A halfhearted squeal leaves her lips. I step out of the pants and without hesitation dive into the pool.

When I come up she’s further away than before and backing up. But she’s smiling.

“Come here, bad girl,” I say swimming slowly toward her. I lower my head so just my eyes show above the waterline. Like a horny alligator.

She’s moving backwards but doesn’t have far to go. The edge of the pool’s only another ten feet away.

“Wait! What are you doing? I’ll go back and do it properly. Here, I’ll say it now! The Giants suck!!” she yells.

Reaching the edge, she attempts to climb out. But I’m too fast. I grab her by the waist and pull her back in. Then I flip her around to face me and put my hands against the edge of the pool on either side of her body. It’s a trap now. Her breathing quickens. So does mine.

“I can’t get involved with my client’s family. It’s unethical.”

“I can live with that.”

I take the kiss.