“I Don’t Have a Son, Tessa.”
eating a bite of the brown-and-white lumpy food- on such gleaming skin
- this wasn’t the Paul Gruber he knew
- clasping her hands together in dismay
- she periodically scrunches as she talks
Tune in next time part 121 Click Here for Earlier Installments
“I don’t have a son, Tessa,” I said, pinching my nose to stop the bleeding. “At least not yet. Are you talking about one of the children Fleur is carrying?”
Tessa has these muscles in her pelvis that she periodically scrunches as she talks. I’d never been aware of them before, but our current intimate embrace made them very obvious, even with our clothes separating us. Picture someone clasping her hands together in dismay, only, you know, not her hands. I tried to ignore it and focus on what she was saying.
“I’m not talking about your wife’s babies, dumbass. How would I know if they were boys or girls? I’m talking about your son.”
Before I could get her to explain, we were approached by Harry, the amphibian-faced object of Isolde’s affections. “Paul Gruber!” he shouted. “Where is Isolde?”
Paul Gruber was the name of the bodyguard whose jacket I was wearing as a disguise. Harry stomped up to me and his greasy visage underwent a remarkable transformation when he realized that this wasn’t the Paul Gruber he knew. It was as if no expression could gain traction on such gleaming skin.
I tried to run away before he regained his composure, but Tessa clinging to me like a baby marsupial slowed me considerably. Harry stumbled after me down the street, spluttering.
“You are practically useless,” Tessa grumbled, pelvic muscles clenching. “Why do I even bother with you?” In one fluid motion she detached herself from me and vaulted over my head to land on poor, hapless Harry. By the time I turned around she had him in a headlock and, much against his will, he was eating a bite of the brown-and-white lumpy food she always kept in a zipper baggie in her pocket. It had an oatmeal-like consistency, and I knew from personal experience that it was laced with strong narcotics.
She tucked Harry, now snoring, into the space between two storefronts and, quick as the wind, resumed her place under my jacket.
Her muscles rippled again as she said, “Now, about your son…”
bonus points for using them in reverse order