Michael's heart dropped a little more as he watched the dashboard clock
click off each new minute. He'd been stuck in this traffic jam on Main St
for nearly a half hour and the bright green digits now read 08:05. By now,
Mr. and Mrs. Koda were long gone, and with them any chance of his
retrieving his sketch book and his future. By tomorrow she might've had a
change of heart. Maybe she would mention it to her husband and he would be
so outraged that he would demand she take some punitive action against the
offender. Either way it meant another sleepless night.
By 08:15 he had cleared the traffic and was now only 5 minutes from the
Koda house. He decided to still head there and at least leave an
apologetic note. Maybe that would help. Stopping to use a pay phone, he
told his Mom that he had been delayed by the traffic and that he was going
to take the car over to Bob's house if that was ok with Dad. 6 minutes
later he was pulling up in front of the Koda house.
The house was big, twice the size of the one Michael had grown up in. A
carefully kept lawn and an endless row of flowers showed the work of
professional landscapers. Thinking of all the hot Saturday afternoons he
had spent with a mower, Michael felt a tinge of envy of someone who could
afford to pay to have that done for them. A car was parked in front of a
two car garage, a new 95 Lexus.
Michael wondered how a teacher could afford a house like this, then he
remembered someone once saying that she was married to some kind of
surgeon.
"Great, nice to know her husband has easy access to sharp knives."
Michael said as he walked up the pathway.
Michael had reached the large front door when he suddenly realized that
he didn't have anything to write a note on . Searching his pockets, he
could only come up with a dry cleaning receipt. A message scribbled on the
back of that wouldn't exactly leave the type of impression he wanted.
From the street, he had noticed a few lights on throughout the house.
It could just be part of an alarm system, but if he was really lucky, maybe
they had a maid or someone at home he could let know he had stopped by.
Brushing back his hair and straightening his clothes, Michael rang the
bell. A few minutes passed and there was no response. He tried it again
and was about to give it up and head home when he heard footsteps
approaching the door.
The door swung open and Michael was rendered speechless. The woman
standing there bore only a superficial resemblance to the teacher he knew.
The long red hair that was normally pinned back and hidden had been styled
into a intricate design. Normally she wore a very subdued pink lipstick,
now it was bright red. As red as her lips was the cocktail dress she wore,
the plunging neckline of which gave him a delightful view of the breasts he
had so fantasized about. In fact, so taken was he by just the sight of
those soft, white globes, he didn't immediately notice the imprint of her
nipples against the thin material of the dress. It was obvious that she
wasn't wearing a bra.
"Mrs. Koda?" Michael finally stammered out.
"Michael," She answered somewhat embarished. "I didn't really expect
you this late."
"I'm sorry," He said. "I didn't the message until very late, then I got
stuck in traffic. I was just going to leave a note then I realized that I
didn't have anything to write on."
"Very well, as long as you are here, you might as well come in." She
said in a voice that said this hadn't been her first disappointment of the
evening.
"You have a beautiful house." He said as he walked from the foyer into a
large living room. Everything about the house said money.
"Thank you, but I had nothing to do it." She replied as she walked over
to a desk on the far side of the room. "My husband had it decorated by
professionals, and its cleaned by a maid. Its just another trophy to his
success."
Immediately, Michael knew he had hit on a sore point right out of the
box. Not a good thing to do with someone who help your fate in her hands.
A large 11 x 14 photo on the wall caught Michael's attention. It was of
the finalists in a beauty pageant The stories had been true. The third
runner up was obviously a younger Arlene Koda. To Michael, she had it all
over the winner and runner-up. What could have those judges been thinking?
"That's another one of my husband's trophies." Arlene said from behind
him. "Miss Mayfield County - 1983."
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