Page 26 of The Brooklyn Way

I shook my head, because I had no business thinking about my dick in her mouth.

She was speaking when I tuned back in.

“Repeat that,” I requested, turning my attention back to the car.

“I asked if working on restoring this car is why you missed the debutante ball.”

“Familiarity is why I missed the debutante ball. I am familiar with absolutely everything involved in the production, and I want nothing to do with it. You went to the ball?”

“As the official seamstress of the ball. Your mother paid me to be present to fix and/or address any problems that the debs or their escorts might have with their attire.”

I gave her my attention. “And how much of that did you do?”

She seemed to think about it before replying, “Very little, actually.”

“But you were busy all day, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. I was fixing hair, consulting on makeup, advising escorts on where to stand, placing menu cards on tables before it began. I was just a… jack of all trades at the ball.”

“Now you understand why I purposely missed it. Can you imagine a lifetime of filling in… unpaid, wherever my mother needed you? I’ve been everything from the DJ to the valet to the photographer.”

“Well, I won’t pretend not to understand how years of doing what I did today could get old quickly, but I have to be honest… I loved it! I’ve never seen a debutante ball up close and in person. I thought that was something that went out in the 1960s.”

“Debutante balls are still a thing on Jackson Island and in the surrounding communities. I mean, the only thing that’s changed is that they used to present the women who were ready for marriage. Now, it’s more of a rite of passage into young adulthood. Ninety percent of my mom’s debs are headed to college in the fall. The ball kind of represents them closing the door on girlhood and stepping into their new life.”

“It was fascinating. I loved watching those girls and their fathers go through all of the rituals. They must spend months learning what to do, what to say, where to stand. And that little dance they did?” She shook her head as a grin covered her face. “I wanna have a daughter just so she can participate in the ball. And your mother, how she knows all of that… elegant and regal stuff. I loved it.”

I couldn’t help smiling at her, because she was practically giddy, telling me about her experience. I closed the hood of the car. “Come on. Let’s head up to the house before we miss the grand finale.”

She followed me into my house.

“Ay, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” I made a beeline for the bathroom, took a piss, washed my hands, then washed my face. After that, I exchanged the greasy, sweaty T-shirt I was wearing for a clean one.

When I made it back out to the main living area, Brooklyn was still standing where I left her. “You could’ve gone out to the deck without me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Nah, I was good waiting for you.”

I grabbed both of us an ice-cold bottle of water and headed for the deck.

“I’ve had two really good days in a row,” she told me as she dropped her thickness into the same swivel chair she’d sat in the day before.

“Is that a record?” I took a drink from my bottle.

“Not sure. For a while, the bad days were so overwhelming that I didn’t notice or acknowledge the good ones. But, like I told you yesterday, I need to be more intentional. Oh yeah, those posts you made last night blew my socials up. Some of everybody is in my DMs asking if I’m gonna starttaking clients again.”

“What are you thinking?”

She hesitated a little bit. “Someday I probably will, but right now I’m enjoying laying low on Jackson Island.”

The two of us sat silently while the sun slowly dropped below the horizon. We kept sitting there while the ocean went black and all the solar powered lights, lanterns, and tiki torches came to life, illuminating the backyard.

The night was breezy and warm. The wind carried humidity in it. I could feel the heaviness in the air and smell it in the atmosphere.

“It’s gonna rain,” I commented while looking out into the pitch blackness of the night.

Brooklyn inhaled deeply. “It does smell like rain. I love the rain. When I was younger, I used to love playing in the rain… being in the rain. I used to always find myself getting accidentally caught in rainstorms.”

“How do you accidentally get caught in a rainstorm?” I was curious.

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