Summer Girl Read Free

Brie.
    “You're right. Never mind.”
    “And I still swim every morning at the
community pool,” said Brie.
    “Good!” said Mr. Merle.
    “I'm also a sometime drum majorette.”
    “What???” said Mr. Merle, sputtering, Brie
noticing a change in his tone and body language. His eyes locked on
her as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Tell me
more.”
    “There's, like, three of us and we trade off.
There's a lot parades in a small town,” said Brie.
    “Do you have one of those cute outfits with
the boots and gloves?”
    “Oh yes, and don't forget the hat!” said
Brie.
    “Tell me about the outfit.”
    Brie saw the effect this conversation was
having on Mr. Merle and she decided to take advantage of it.
“Well... it's kind of like a figure-skating costume. It has a
little pleated skirt that doesn't cover much of the backside. And
the part that stretches over the butt? The leotard doesn't really
cover much at all. So if there's even a little breeze...”
    Mr. Merle swallowed. “Jesus.”
    “The leotard is a little too high-cut, but
the skirt covers it—mostly. At least when there's not a breeze and
I don't spin around too much. Then you see everything. I like it
because it shows off my legs.”
    “When can you come back?” Mr. Merle said
abruptly, his breathing labored.
    “What...?” said Brie, caught off-guard.
    “With all the rain we've been having, the
grass needs to be cut again soon,” said Mr. Merle.
    “Next week, I guess,” said Brie.
    “I can't wait till next week,” said Mr.
Merle.
    “Okay, um... how's Friday?”
    “Let's do Wednesday,” said Mr. Merle.
    “Wednesday? That's tomorrow,” said Brie.
    “I know,” he smiled.
    “Okay,” said Brie not knowing how to
react.
    “It's another two hundred in your pocket,” he
said.
    Brie figured she should be happy and smiled
back.
     
     
    They walked to the car. There was the chirp
as Mr. Merle unlocked the doors. Brie opened her passenger-side car
door and stared downwards in horror. “Oh God!”
    “What?”
    “My butt-print!”
    Mr. Merle ducked inside and looked over at
the passenger seat. He could see two half-moons imprinted on the
leather. “Ha! Well, I can't say you didn't warn me.”
    “My God, your wife will see that!” said
Brie.
    “Oh, she won't mind,” he said, starting the
car. “Get in.”
    “She'll know that it's a butt-print from a
girl,” said Brie.
    “Yeah, probably, but she's open-minded.”
    “She won't be that open-minded,” said Brie as
the Audi sped out of the parking lot and onto Town Road.
    “I'll tell her that I met this lovely girl
mowing the Fugleson’s lawn, next door,” said Mr. Merle. “I'll tell
her that I asked if she could do ours and she said 'yes'. I'll tell
her that you liked to jump in the lake when you finished the lawn
and that I asked you to go for ice cream. Your wet suit left a
mark, and on our way home I asked you to take off your
clothes.”
    What?
    “Your top, your shorts, and your wet bathing
suit.”
    Brie was breathing hard. What the hell?
Where did this come from?
    “And when I got home I wrapped you in a towel
and put your wet clothes out on the balcony.”
    “What?” Brie said, finally.
    “And then I spanked you for being a naughty
girl.”
    “I wouldn't let you do that!”
    “This is all contingent upon your consent, of
course.”
    “But that never happened!”
    “Not yet,” said Mr. Merle.
    “Even if it was true—and it’s definitely not
true—you couldn't tell your wife that!” said Brie, “She'd leave you
in a second!”
    “I told you,” said Mr. Merle, “We have an
elastic relationship.”
    “No relationship is that elastic.”
    “Oh really, Miss worldly-wise, small town
eighteen year-old girl?”
    “Eighteen and a half. And you don't have to
be a douchebag.”
    “Sorry. Take off your clothes.”
    “No.”
    “You know you want to,” said Brad.
    Brie had been looking at Mr. Merle's profile
this whole time and realized that she