Dinner wasn’t too bad. The food was great and my relatives had the courtesy to call a ceasefire. For most of it anyway. There were a few awkward moments.
“So you two are sleeping together?” Bubbe asked.
“Ma!” my mother cut in.
“It’s okay. We seem to get asked that a lot,” Braden said with a smile.
“Well, it’s no big deal if you are, sweetheart. God knows that Ben schtupped Judy enough before they got married. The two of them were always going at it.”
“Bubbe please!” I begged. “I don’t want to hear about my parents ha**g s*x at the Sabbath meal! Or ever! I need therapy now.”
“Mother that is enough!” My mom was getting seriously pissed.
“Hey, at least you’re out of high school not like Rachel’s boyfriends,” Bubbe responded giving Braden an evil smile.
“For the last time! My boyfriends are not in high school, you crazy old bag! One of them was a college student who was student teaching.”
“Well, maybe your cousin could teach you a thing or two about how to find a boyfriend old enough to have finished college. Look at the Viking over there! I’ll bet he gets plenty of oral attention!”
I almost passed out, I swear. And then it dawned on me; while he may have gotten plenty in the past, I hadn’t given him any. As if sensing my thoughts Braden reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly.
“Okay, okay Rose,” my dad said, starting to sound very pissed off too. “My family’s sex lives are not dinner conversation.” As if wanting to be a stand-up guy too, Ira chimed in and attempted to change the subject. Unfortunately, it was Ira.
“So Gabrielle, maybe if you do good work you can get a job as a real lawyer someday.”
“A public defender is a real lawyer. In fact most of them are better than the private defense lawyers,” Braden corrected, sounding a teeny bit pissed himself. What a lovely family dinner.
“You hear that Ira?” Ruth asked in a chastising tone. “He didn’t mean any offense Gabby! We know that getting criminals off is very important!”
Bubbe huffed. Apparently, she didn’t agree.
“At any rate,” Ira tried again, “you’re looking great Gabby! You were getting kind of chunky there for a while.”
“So Braden, do you have any brothers or sisters?” Rachel cut in, trying to help out.
“I have a sister who’s twenty-five and a brother who’s twenty-three.”
“Uh oh,” Bubbe said under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Rachel shot back.
“Okay enough!” my mother shouted.
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Bubbe made one last attempt to be annoying by asking Braden if he would be learning anything about Jewish culture in the foreseeable future. Before I or anyone else, could rush in to defend the fact that he had had the audacity to be born a gentile, he himself answered that he had been thinking about doing that for quite some time, as one of his closest friends was also Jewish. My mother looked like she wanted to crawl across the table and embrace him and my dad looked like he wanted to fund a scholarship at Yeshiva University in his name.
After dinner everyone retired to the parlor and my father did something extraordinarily kind; he suggested that since Braden and I enjoyed walking so much, we should go out for a stroll around the neighborhood before it got dark. I loved my dad! We headed out into the warm New York evening holding hands.
“So I’m sure you’ve been to New York many times, but this is my neighborhood.”
“I love this. These homes have so much character. This city has so much character.” He was looking around and taking it all in.
“I think so too! Whenever I was feeling depressed about something I would take a walk and remind myself that I lived in one of the most exciting, must cultural, most interesting cities in the world and it would cheer me up.” I smiled and took it all in.
“You really love it.” He smiled.
“I do!”
“So why did you move to Philly?”
“I wanted some space from my family so I could learn how to be a grown-up. Besides, I like Philly too, even more now.” I squeezed his hand.
We talked about what we should do the next day and decided to visit a museum and go book shopping among other things. As it got darker we walked home again, and I must say I felt much calmer than when we left. When we got back nobody was fighting, thank God. My relatives were being decently well behaved and they had the courtesy to leave not long after we got back.
“So, Braden! You survived!” my dad said with a smile.
“They were very interesting.” Braden laughed.
“Clearly he doesn’t know them well enough yet,” my mother said dryly. “So my darling family, it’s nine o’clock on a Friday evening in Manhattan. Obviously we can’t just stay in the house.” I liked that fact that she had included Braden in our “darling family.” He seemed to like it too. It was almost cracking me up how much he was enjoying this trip so far.
“Well, kids, what do you think?” my dad asked. “Jones Wood Foundry?”
“That’s a British style pub not far from here. You can sit outside,” I explained to Braden.
“Sounds great,” he replied.
“Okay then! Let’s go get some well-deserved alcohol!” My mom laughed.
We headed out to the pub and settled in for a chat. We had a lot of fun. My parents were on a real roll, cracking all kinds of jokes, doing impressions of my relatives, telling funny stories and being very cute and flirty with each other.
“So Braden, I’ve been looking into your dad’s political record. I’m a Democrat but I really liked what I saw. He seems to be a well-grounded guy with some really good ideas.”
“My father is pretty level-headed. He’s not a reactionary.”
“I like that. That’s what we need more of in Washington.”
“Braden’s family is so sweet. They were so nice to me.”
“I guess that means we can’t stick him with the check then, huh?” my dad joked.
“Be quiet!” I laughed.
“You should let Braden and I spend some time getting to know each other tomorrow,” my dad said. “I promise to go easy on him.”
“No hints!” I said. “We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks. Give the poor guy a break.”
“Hints? Hints about what? I don’t know what she’s talking about. Do you know what she’s talking about?” he asked my mom.
“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” she said innocently.
“Incidentally, I can get you a good deal on a band and a caterer should you ever need them for anything,” Dad joked. At least I think he was joking.
“So, do you want to see baby pictures of Gabby?” Mom asked with a huge grin. “She was so cute!”
This was obviously some kind of a mom thing. Maybe when I had given birth someday I would develop the Kodak moment hormone.
“Hey! I’m still cute.”
“I would love to,” Braden said enthusiastically.
“You would?” I asked, surprised. The guy who had recently told me that he wanted to nail me against the f**king wall now wanted to see my baby pictures. That was unexpected.
“We should show him the one where she took all her clothes off at that birthday party,” my mom said to my dad with a smile.
“Oh my God! What, have you been holding on to that picture all these years just waiting for this opportunity to humiliate me?”
“Oh come on! It’s so cute! She’s shaking her na**d little tuckus to Disney songs.” My dad smiled at Braden who looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“What is wrong with you people? I finally bring a guy home and you immediately have to break out the kiddie porn?”
“Gabby! I’m sure he’s seen you na**d before,” my mom said. Clearly my parents weren’t going to stop until I had no pride left.
“Oh! Yuck — Ma! You sound like Bubbe! I’m really gonna need therapy now.”
“Oh please!” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand.
“I do really want to see that picture,” Braden said to my mom with a smile. Great.
We made plans to just relax in the morning. My dad and Braden could hang out and “get to know each other” whatever that entailed. After lunch, we would go to the Museum of the City of New York, then go to the Strand Bookstore, have dinner in the Village, and then go watch Shakespeare in the park. Sounded like a fun day. At least that was the plan. We got back home around eleven and Braden and I told my parents that we were going to turn in. They said that they were going to stay up a little longer and they wished us goodnight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We got up to my room and I locked the door behind me. I wasn’t taking any chances.
“So, what do you want to do now?” he asked with his hot Braden sex smile. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he wanted to do now.
“I’m glad you asked. Have a seat.” I gestured to the stuffed armchair near my overflowing bookshelf. He went over and sat down, looking at me expectantly. “You know what Bubbe said about oral attention?” I asked as I came over and sat on the ottoman that was resting in front of the chair.
“Yes?” He was looking very interested.
“Well, it occurred to me that while you’ve been very generous and giving with your oral attentions, I haven’t made any effort at all to reciprocate. So, you do like that, right?”
“I’m a guy, Gabrielle. Most guys like that.” I tried not to think about how many women may have diverted him in restrooms across the Greater Philadelphia Metropolitan area.
“I feel bad. I should have offered.” I sounded like I was saying I should have offered to do the dishes or pick up the check.
“Gabby, it’s only been a couple of weeks. It’s not like we’ve been married for ten years and you haven’t offered.” He paused, looking at my expression which happened to be an amused smile. “What?”
“You called me Gabby.” I smiled.
“I did? Probably because your parents always call you that.”
“It’s okay. You can call me that if you want. Did you have a nickname?”
“My mom and dad used to call me Brady when I was a kid.”
“Brady? That’s so sweet!”
“Well, you can call me Brady if you want.”
“Oh lord. Adam and Mark are right. We’re a disturbingly cute couple.”
“It’s understandable. We both have happily married, disturbingly cute parents.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty uncommon these days.”
“It’s pretty rare these days, but how did we start out talking about o**l s*x and end up talking about our parents?”
“I don’t know but that’s very disturbingly disturbing. Let’s go back to the original topic. Of course, I realize that by having this conversation I’ve pretty much killed the moment.”
“Trust me. It wouldn’t be hard to revive.”
“Oh yeah?” I smiled and stood up, leaning over to start kissing his neck. He took a deep breath.
“It’s definitely reviving,” he said with a laugh.
“Mm.” I started sucking on his earlobe and slid my hands under his shirt and across his bare abs and chest. His breathing got heavier and his hands went to cup and gently squeeze my breasts. I pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then I let my mouth move lower, nibbling a trail and tracing over it with my tongue. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. I worked my way even lower with open-mouthed kisses, grazing my teeth lightly against his skin and then I licked his belly button, making him groan. I reached down and opened his jeans, realizing, however, that I had encountered some logistical problems. “Uh, I may need some help here.”
He stood up and removed his pants and boxers, showing very clearly that the moment had been very much revived. “So I see you’re up for this,” I quipped.
“Oh man. That was so bad!” He shook his head.
“I’ve got a million of ‘em. Sit down, Harvard.” Harvard sat down.
“Take your shirt and your bra off,” he said huskily.
“Me?”
“Yeah you.” He laughed. “Who do you think I’m talking to?”
“Listen Mr. Funny Guy, I want to do this for you. You don’t have to do anything for me.”
“Being able to see you excites me.”
“Oh, okay.” I had almost forgotten. He was a boob man. I took off my shirt and bra and I could see his eyes get darker. I figured I might as well take the rest off while I was at it and so I slipped out of my shorts and panties too.
“Gabrielle, you’re so beautiful.”
“You’re the beautiful one, Braden.” I sat down on the ottoman again and leaned in to start running my tongue down his happy trail as he started to pant. I could see that he was trying not to squirm and I took pity. Building anticipation is one thing and torture is another. I wrapped my hand around him and took him as far back into my mouth as I could. He gasped and his h*ps seemed to rise involuntarily. I looked up at him and saw his eyes were fixed on me.
“You look so f**king hot,” he said hoarsely. I slid him in and out of my mouth and used my hand to take care of the part that didn’t fit. As I’ve mentioned before, Braden is a healthy boy, and despite reports to the contrary, my mouth isn’t that big. His breathing started coming in harsh rasps and he reached down and pulled my hair back away from my face, presumably so that he could better see what I was doing to him. I glanced up again and saw that he looked dazed and his face was flushed. He also kept mumbling words of pleasure and encouragement to me continuously, sounding almost delirious. Remembering our encounter in the interview room, I reached down with my other hand and gently squeezed his balls making him groan with pleasure.