The Scarlet Letter Scandal (8 page)

Jeannie fumed. “How dare you use the word cult with me? Our church is not a cult!”

“I’m sorry,” said Cindy, even as she wrote
“#sorrynotsorry
” on the grocery list she was jotting down. She knew she never should’ve sent her sister that blog post. Her friends had warned her against it. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Hey, I gotta run—Abbie has a dentist appointment and I need to grab her from art camp. Talk more later?”

“Fine,” said Jeannie. “But I’m positive I’m not the only one who’s upset about this.” She slammed the receiver back onto its base.

The floor finished, she scrubbed the counters with vigor. The cleaning lady would be there tomorrow and Jeannie needed to get everything practically perfect so she wouldn’t be disappointed at the half-baked job Luisa did.

Her husband, Chaz, insisted on hiring a monthly cleaning service even though Jeannie more firmly insisted she didn’t want it.
I’d rather just do it myself,
she’d argued. This Hispanic woman was a relative of one of Chaz’s landscaping crew managers. Chaz owned a large company that employed over 100 immigrants, supposedly legally, though Jeannie had her doubts.

“You shouldn’t have to take care of this home all by yourself,” Chaz had said, and Jeannie felt like she could practically see him puffing out his chest with the same caveman-provider bravado pride he used as commissioner of the travel hockey league. “Let Luisa clean at least once a month. Their family needs the money, too.”

“I don’t see why we need to take care of someone else’s family when we have a family of four to raise right here,” Jeannie had tried to argue, to no avail.

She loaded the few remaining items into the dishwasher and polished the kitchen sink faucet, marveling once again at how her kids had to somehow leave fingerprints all over the kitchen every time they came in here.

She walked over to the kitchen pantry door to review the monthly calendar schedule that hung there. Chaz was constantly telling her to upload the kids’ schedules into the fancy smartphone he’d gotten her, but she could barely figure out how to make a phone call on that thing much less create some calendar.

I don’t have time to manage one more thing anyway
, she thought.

She didn’t need an electronic device to tell her what the most dominant repeating event was on her life’s calendar. CJ’s ice hockey schedule was all-encompassing. The sport seemed to be 24/7/365 and her son was only eight years old. She shuddered, thinking not only of the temperature of the ice arena where she spent so many hours, but at how demanding the ice hockey lifestyle was.

And the hockey moms.

The night before, like every other night, Jeannie sat in the far corner of an upper bleacher, away from the other parents. As usual, she had paperwork in front of her. Sometimes PTA fundraiser forms, but yesterday the proposed revision to the homeowners association bylaws. Her six-year-old daughter, Kaylah, had been beside her, playing with her American Girl doll since she didn’t have gymnastics that night.

The hockey moms always sat in a cluster, talking loudly, using bad language, drinking coffee spiked with God knows what. Jeannie failed to see how they could even consider drinking alcoholic beverages while their children worked as hard as they did on the ice. She had already spoken to the coach about it once, which didn’t help matters since his wife was one of the partiers. This was supposed to be
travel hockey,
not some girls’ night out.

Forcing thoughts of hockey mom stress aside, Jeannie began to gather her keys and purse. She had to get over to the elementary school, where the PTA needed her desperately thanks to their having appointed some ridiculous idiot woman principal.

Beneath the note about checking the tire pressure on the minivan and setting up an appointment with her mother’s cardiologist, Jeannie had jotted a note down on the ever-present small spiral notebook in her purse, reminding herself to speak with Chaz about getting back to town earlier in evenings to take CJ to more of these perpetual, freezing hockey practices so she could attend to other matters. It was impossible to be at two places at once anyway on the nights when Kaylah had gymnastics.

Jeannie never really thought about it this way, but there was absolutely nothing about her life that had anything to do with her.

On their weekly lunch date, Rachel parked her car at the tree-covered small liberal arts college and checked her texts. School was out so there weren’t many cars on campus. She grabbed the lunch bag and walked up the stairs to Kate’s second floor office. The academic building was nearly empty save for a few office lights on here and there for professors who were teaching a summer class or working on fall curricula. Kate’s office was tucked down a narrow hallway and relatively secluded. Rachel knocked on the door, which was cracked open, and Kate said,

“Come in.”

She did.

Rachel closed the door behind her, placing the lunch on a round glass table near two chairs; a spot meant for teacher-student conferences.

Kate rose to greet her, walking around to the front of her worn oak desk and placing her reading glasses on the desk.

Rachel admired Kate’s low-cut pale yellow silk blouse, the view of her long legs from below her short fitted black skirt that fell just above the knee, her sexy taupe peep-toe heels revealing a magenta pedicure color.

“My son-in-law made our lunch, I’m guessing?” she asked.

Rachel laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Just left your old shop where your daughter is keeping things perfectly in order. They guessed the sandwich was for you.”

“Rabbit food?” asked Kate. “Isn’t that what you call it?”

“Stan said he might have to change the name of the sandw—” Rachel began.

But Kate had grabbed her around the waist and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Her magenta lip color blended with Rachel’s red as they hungrily explored each other’s tongues. She pulled Rachel decisively toward her, moving her hand to push up the green cotton dress and finding Rachel’s thong beneath.

Kate’s nipples immediately hardened beneath the silky blouse as Rachel ran her fingers across the top of the thin material, trailing her thumb down Kate’s cleavage to let it graze across the peak. Kate’s right hand circled around Rachel’s left hip toward the front; she slipped her fingers under the thong, pushing it aside to find Rachel wet as she moaned softly. Kate whispered “sshhh” into Rachel’s mouth and then inserted her tongue to quiet her, moving her left hand around Rachel’s neck to run through Rachel’s unruly strawberry hair. She tugged on a handful of hair at the back of her neck, bringing Rachel’s chin up as she trailed kisses down her neck.

Rachel’s hands were more insistent at Kate’s breasts, unbuttoning buttons, squeezing nipples, unfastening her bra. She ground her hips against the pressure of Kate’s fingers. Kate moved her left hand down and swept aside the items on the desk to clear a space. She placed her hands on Rachel’s hips as Rachel moaned her disapproval of the removed pleasure. She pushed her backward, forcing Rachel to hop up slightly so she was sitting on the edge of the smooth, worn desk. Kate lifted Rachel’s dress up over her hips, took a pair of sharp scissors from a Ball jar on the desk, and cut off one string edge of the thong, then the other. Rachel giggled softly as Kate put her index finger to her lips:
SShhh.

Rachel unbuttoned her own shirt-style dress, pulling the halves aside to reveal her perfect C-cup breasts in their cream-colored lace bra. Kate lowered her head at the invitation, returning her right hand’s fingers to explore Rachel’s warm center and using her left hand to ease Rachel’s left breast out of her bra. She gently licked around the nipple, and with increasing pressure began sucking, teasing the tender flesh with her teeth.

Rachel wanted to return these favors but was literally stunned motionless from pleasure; it was all she could do to hold herself steady on the desk as Kate dominated her. She managed to reach up and release the front bra clasp to free her breasts and give Kate more access. Kate looked up at Rachel and brought the fingers of her right hand to her mouth, licking her fingers. She pulled her own black skirt up and lowered herself into a squatting position using muscles attained at the college’s gym, and she pushed Rachel’s legs apart. She licked the insides of Rachel’s thighs, eventually moving inward until her tongue reached the throbbing, drenched pleasure zone, causing Rachel to lean backward on her elbows and arch her back in delight. Rachel had unconsciously put one of her wrists into her own mouth to stop herself from sighing aloud in pleasure as she climaxed.

Wordlessly, Rachel sat up, slid off the desk, and led Kate by the wrist around to her leather chair. She gently pushed her shoulders downward, and Kate sat, smiling up at Rachel, softly running the tips of her fingers across Rachel’s nipples. Rachel pushed her hands away, instead shoving Kate’s black skirt up over the tops of her thighs. In anticipation of today’s lunch, Kate’s panties were already in her top office drawer.

Rachel went to her knees, running her soft hands across Kate’s thighs, letting them explore, using her fingers to please Kate, who was leaned back, eyes closed, exhaling briskly. Rachel lowered her head to explore Kate with her tongue, causing Kate to grab Rachel’s ginger mop of curls with her right hand and pull her head toward her. Kate started to sigh more audibly from the exquisite sensation, and Rachel whispered
ssshhh
into the space between her things.
Rachel circled Kate’s erogenous zone with her tongue and used her fingers to explore her as Kate arched her back, stifling the loud moan that tried to escape.

Rachel stood up, picking up her now-shredded thong off the desk with a smile. Kate smiled back.

“Lunchtime?” said Kate.

“I’ll say,” said Rachel, tossing the thong into the trashcan.

They moved to the two chairs and round table area of the office. Taking turns darting down the hall to the bathroom to clean up, they finally settled down for a lunchtime chat. In addition to becoming lovers, Rachel and Kate had become close friends. The relationship wasn’t based purely on sex, but more on the intimacy of companionship both had been craving even more than a pleasing quickie.

“So have you seen the newspaper article today about some gossipy local blog?” asked Kate. “One of the other professors was talking about it this morning.”

Rachel smiled at her secret status as the Keytown Mouse blogger.

“I love it,” said Rachel as she spread out the drinks and sandwiches. “Someone’s clearly enjoying the anonymity to say whatever they want and speak the truth.”

“It’s all fun and games now,” said Kate, opening her sandwich. “Except when Maggie Hanson finds out. She’s back together with her first husband and he’s running for city council. So the timing of the news getting around town for her might not be great.”

Rachel bristled at the sound of Kate’s ex-lover’s name, trying not to show her anger.

“It’s the women in my own neighborhood who are really freaking out,” said Rachel, changing the subject. “I love how upset they are to hear about the secret swingers’ club happening right inside their own neighborhood.”

“Hmmm, the big-rock-in-the-driveway crowd,” said Kate. “I imagine they’d be even more protective of their secrecy, though it seems kind of silly given how open they are with screwing their own neighbors.”

“I’ve actually gotten to be pretty chatty with Kellie, who runs the whole operation,” said Rachel. “And I don’t know, I mean she has a website herself for the Rocks social club, as she calls it online. It doesn’t show the address, but it’s right out there that they have theme night parties and everything. Which reminds me, we should totally go to the masquerade party together in disguise!”

“If the city finds out they are running a sex club out of a subdivision, they’ll shut that place down in a heartbeat,” said Kate. “I’m sure they’re violating a bunch of ordinances. But I’d love to go in disguise just to check it out.”

“They don’t seem to be too worried about it,” said Rachel. “But if her majesty of Stony Mill the Princess Jeannie Appleton finds out that the rumors about her precious empire are true, she will go completely apeshit.”

Rachel found herself itching for another Adderall pill to gather energy for the afternoon at the office and resisted the urge. She was trying to limit herself to no more than four pills a day and had already taken three.