The Quaker Café

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Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes
    André Gagnon began to play Vue sur la mer and a wave of remembrance washed over her. How could she forget?  It was a row boat in the middle of an isolated lake north of Québec City. They had let it drift and despite Chase’s initial objections, she had seduced him into making love in the middle of the day. They were lucky the dinghy hadn’t capsized. It was great sex, even Chase admitted, although he’d resisted her initial advances.
    “We’re not in public, Chase . Just the two of us here,” she teased.
    “It’s a public place.”
    “We’re in the middle of a lake, no one else around.”
    “They could be, any moment.” 
    “We’ll make their day,” she persisted as she slipped off her blouse and brassiere.
    She loved how she could fluster Chase with the least bit of public affection . If she pinched his butt or ran her hand up under the front of his shirt, he’d immediately blush and grab her wrist. While Quakers certainly weren’t opposed to sex, they were restrained. He admitted that he’d never seen his parents do more than give one another a gentle peck on the cheek. Liz liked to rattle that cage for him.
    She believed her spontaneity was one of the things that attracted him . It was so different from how he had been raised. Chase was so practical, always the one to balance her exuberant, over-committed lifestyle. He was the head and the soul of their family. Liz was the heart and spirit.
    Liz began to fantasize . Tonight might be a good test of her talents. It would be quite a conquest to score against the Tar Heels. She let her imagination set the trap.
    She climbed out of the tub and began the laborious task of drying her hair . That accomplished, she put on make-up and sprayed herself with a sample blend of l’eau de perfume from her Clinique bonus package. She slipped in a tape of The Entertainer and after maximizing the volume she wrapped a large fluffy pink towel around her and sidestepped out of the doorway into the den.
    Liz knew Chase would be ensconced on the sofa . With her back towards him she took four long sideways strides so that she stood immediately in front of the television set, still facing backwards and effectively blocking the screen. Liz spread her arms wide, holding either end of her pink towel, and then let it drop. While she knew that her derriere was a bit more ample than ideal, she also knew what turned him on. She had great boobs.
    Running her fingers up through her hair, she slowly lifted her arms over her head and did an abrupt turn, bending her right knee and turning it in a bit for a Kewpie-doll look . Her next step was to bite the tip end of her index finger and coyly flutter her eyes.
    Liz didn’t get that far . She stopped cold. There in front of her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, sat Chase. Next to him with a frozen stare so alarming that she thought perhaps he had stopped breathing, was Grandpa Hoole.
      If lightning had struck her dead at that moment, she would have welcomed it . Liz catapulted to the bathroom as fast as humanly possible and locked the door.
                  She slammed the off button on the tape recorder and collapsed in a heap on the bathroom floor. The television in the next room clicked off. A car started and pulled out of the driveway. One of the dogs barked. The house was quiet. Eventually there was a knock.
                  “Liz. Are you going to come out?”
                  “You’re going to have to come out, honey, sooner or later.”
                  “Later, maybe.”
                  “Okay, I’ll wait.”  Another thirty minutes passed before there was a second knock.
                  “Liz, please come out.”
                  “I don’t think I can.”
                  “I wish you had stuck around to see the look on Dad’s face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look before

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