Sociopath? (27 page)

He handed Renny a check. “I’m going to give
you $5,000. That ought to be enough to pay a month’s rent and a
damage deposit as well as your travel expenses. I’ve done a little
research (actually he’d talked to Gil). You ought to be able to
find something livable for less than $2,000 a month if you don’t
mind a bit of a commute.”

Renny took the check. “I really appreciate
this, Dad.”

*

They set off the next Monday. Laney was
joyful at the thought of two or three days of freedom with Rafe. He
was pretty happy himself, mostly about the prospect of never having
to return to a dorm although, of course, he was glad to have Laney
with him too.

The first night, they just stayed at the
motel after going out to dinner and buying a paper. Lane read the
want ads for rentals while Rafe did research on his laptop. They
made a list of places they wanted to check out the next day.

Then Rafe ran his hands in her hair. “Take
your clothes off and get into the bed, Woman,” he ordered
teasingly.

Are your intentions honorable, Sir?”

“I’ve never had an honorable intention in my
life.”

“Oh, good!”

*

They’d looked at apartment complexes until
they could hardly remember which apartment offered which
amenities.

“I can settle for any of them if I have to,”
Rafe told her, “anything is better than the dorm.”

Now they were parked in front of a
three-story, turn-of-the-century Victorian in a residential
neighborhood, palely pink, with lilac and peach and light turquoise
trim. No one answered the doorbell so they went through the gate in
the privacy fence into a landscaped yard filled with flowers and
blooming shrubs and trees and meandering brick pathways. They
followed the voices they heard coming from the pool area. Seated at
a table by the pool were two men in swimming trunks.

“Are you the ones with the apartment for
rent?” Rafe asked.

“Depends,” said the first man. He was 50-ish,
stocky and bald with friendly hazel eyes and a wide, humorous
smile, framed by a neat brown goatee and mustache.

Rafe cocked one dark eyebrow, “on what?”

“Are you gay?” The second man was probably in
his early 60’s, with perfectly barbered silver hair and eyes that
matched. He managed to look distinguished even in swimming
trunks.

“Do I have to be?”

“We prefer it,” said the younger man. “And by
the way, my name is Vic and that’s Chas.”

“Well, Vic, I’m not gay so if that’s a
deal-killer, I guess there’s no sense wasting your time. I do have
a brother who is gay though and I could probably get him to give me
a reference, if that would help.”

Vic looked at Chas with a gleam in his eye.
“He isn’t gay, but he is beautiful, so having him around as eye
candy would be a pleasant diversion.”

“That’s true,” said Chas, “and no messy
aftermath if one of our friends got involved with him and ended up
with a broken heart,” speaking as if Rafe wasn’t there.

They both waited expectantly to see what
Rafe’s reaction to their comments would be.

“I’m good at gentle rejection,” he assured
them, his mouth quirking in amusement.

“What’s your name?”

“Rafe Vincennes and this is my sister,
Lane.”

“So, Rafe Vincennes, tell us why you’d make a
good tenant?”

“I don’t drink, I don’t smoke and I don’t
party. I do have women in occasionally, actually maybe a little
oftener than occasionally, but almost always only one at a time.”
Both men were a little startled by the electric smile that went
flashing across his face.

“Whoa,” thought Vic, “that’s high voltage
stuff.”

“Anything else?”

“If you’d allow it, I’d like to bring my
German Shepherd. I’d promise not to let him damage anything.”

“We were thinking of getting a watchdog
anyway, weren’t we, Chas?”

“We were?” asked Chas.

“One thing. We have parties back here by the
pool sometimes. It’s very private so we don’t worry much about
offending the neighbors. You’re not easily shockable, are you,
Rafe?” Vic asked anxiously.

Laney giggled, “I can’t think what it would
take to shock Rafe.”

Vic went on, “and I feel I need to warn you.
You’re welcome to use the hot tub but it’s at your own risk. We
couldn’t guarantee what might happen, what some of our friends
might do if you, if you…”

Rafe nodded seriously, “I’ll probably avoid
the hot tub altogether.”

“Good, good. Well, I think that’s all the
concerns I have. Why don’t we show you the place and see if you
like it.”

Rafe and Lane followed them down a
flower-lined path to the carriage house. It was a small brick
building, trimmed in green, with a tile roof. There were flower
boxes full of fuschia petunias at the windows that went across the
front of the structure. They entered by means of a green door with
a brass knocker in the shape of an erect penis.

“We can replace it, if it will bother you,”
Vic told him.

Rafe chuckled, “Nah, I don’t care as long as
it opens the door.”

The inside was all high ceilings, golden oak
floors and sunny windows. There were three rooms flowing into one
another through wide archways - a modern kitchen with a bar
separating it from the living room, which featured off-white
Italian leather furniture and a white brick fireplace and from
there, a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed and a mirrored
wall. The bathroom off the bedroom contained a sunken tub and a
double sink with a long marble countertop. The whole place was
creatively decorated in subdued hues splashed with colorful spread
rugs and paintings and pillows. Large braided Ficus trees and pots
of Schefflera filled the corners, a tall elegant vase of ceramic
Calla Lillies adorned the mantel of the fireplace. Chas opened the
entertainment center opposite the sofa.

“The television and stereo are in here.” Vic
showed him.

“You get the use one of the spots in the
garage off the alley,” said Chas.

“What do you think?” they both said at the
same time.

“I think it’s great.” Rafe told them,
“perfect. I’ve only got one worry.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never been into plants much. You’d have
to give me instructions about taking care of them.”

“Oh, we can do that or come in and do it for
you. The plants are no problem,” Chas assured him.

“Well, maybe you’d better tell me how much
then to see if I can even afford it.”

“We usually charge $1,800 with $100 a month
extra for a pet, but we can drop the extra hundred, can’t we,
Chas?”

“Why don’t I start out paying the $100 until
you see for yourself that Hawk isn’t going to harm anything, then
we can drop it later if you feel comfortable.”

“Yes, that’s a good way to do it.” Chas
smiled warmly “When do you want to move in?”

“Not ‘til closer to the end of the month but
I’ll go ahead and start my rent now. That way you won’t lose
anything waiting on me.” He wrote them a check.

*

They both watched the narrow hips saunter
gracefully down the sidewalk to the gate.

“What a fucking waste,” said Chas.

“It’s going to be different having a straight
guy as a tenant but I think this one’s going to be fun, don’t you,
Chas?”

“Interesting, to say the least,” Chas
replied.

*

“I just googled our new tenant, Chas.”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that before we
rent to him, Vic? If he’s a felon, it’s already too late.”

“He isn’t a felon. He’s a race car driver. He
has his own website and his own fan club. He’s a big super-athelete
at Princeton. They call him Rafe the Wraith because he’s so fast.
He won the Chesapeake Regatta two years ago. The family is hugely
rich. They live on an estate on the Eastern Shore called Heron
Point. I researched some of his brothers and sisters. The gay
brother, Denis, is an artist. His partner is an actor. He has the
lead role in “It’s in the Cards”, you know, it’s playing at the
Broadhurst. Maybe after he gets settled in, we ought to ask him to
invite his brother and his friend to one of our parties.”

“Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves,
Vic. Let’s just wait and see what he turns out to be like
first.”

~ ~ ~

What he turned out to be was the most
favorite tenant they’d ever had. They and all their friends adopted
him, almost like a pet, and they adored the pet of their pet too,
the playful puppy, Hawk.

“It’s like having a sensuously silky black
Persian kitten show up on your doorstep. He doesn’t really provide
any useful function except that he just makes you want to smile
when you see him stalking across the yard or sunning himself at the
pool,” said Vic.

“Yes, and you can hardly resist the urge to
reach out and stroke him.” Chas agreed.

It was almost a relief that he was straight
because there were no jealousies or hurt feelings to contend with
as there most likely would have been had there been competition for
his attention among their guests. Not that everyone didn’t seek his
attention. They vied for that devastating smile to shine their way
but without the sexual element, there was nothing hurtful in
it.

So they babied him and pampered him and
spoiled him, sharing their food with him (they were both wonderful
cooks, he’d never eaten so well), showing him off at their parties
(which he usually joined for a while but left before things started
getting more, well, seriously gay), taking Hawk for walks during
the day while he was gone. He told them to come in the house to get
Hawk or water the plants or whatever whenever they wanted. Private
as he was, for some reason, it didn’t seem invasive when they
entered his space. They had thought they’d clean the house for him
but discovered, it never needed cleaning. He was a perfect
housekeeper himself. No dish was ever undone, no bed ever unmade,
no pillow ever out of place.

He came over and watched the ballgames with
them in the high ceilinged Victorian living room with its plush
rugs and carved wood fireplace and tall windows with velvet
draperies and the round tower room at one end. Mostly stretched out
on the floor with his head resting against a big pillow, Hawk’s
head on one brown leg.

*

They were definitely curious about his
personal life and peered through the bay window in the French
county kitchen to see who he was bringing home with him tonight.
Sometimes he paused in the light of the floodlight in the yard and
gave them an ironic salute before he escorted his company into the
carriage house door.

Chas watched the parade of blondes, redheads
and brunettes and said, “and they accuse us of being
promiscuous.”

They were open about their nibbiness but he
didn’t seem to resent it.

“Rafe, Darling, do you ever sleep with the
same one twice?”

“Hardly ever. Life is less complicated that
way. Go out with them twice and the next thing you know, they have
expectations I don’t want to have to deal with.”

“We couldn’t help but notice that you had two
girls with you the other evening, Rafe.”

“Best friends,” he explained, “they like
doing things together.”

“That was a beautiful African-American girl
you were with last night, Rafe.”

“Do you guys have a bell that rings when I
come through the garage door so you know to race over to your
windows?” he asked, grinning.

“No, we just keep one eye out for your return
when you’re not here. Do you mind?”

“No,” he smiled in amusement. “I don’t care.
It’s almost like having Mom and Dad waiting up until I get home,
which incidentally, my own parents never did.”

One thing about the carriage house - “You
guys have taught me something.”

“What’s that, Rafe?”

“I never knew how much women love mirrors.
Sometimes, when they’re going down on me, they glance over at the
mirrors in the bedroom and get so caught up in admiring themselves
with my cock in their mouth, they lose their train of thought and I
have to remind them to keep going. If I ever buy my own house, I’ll
probably have a mirrored wall.”

“We’re so glad we can be of assistance, Rafe
Darling,” Vic said dryly.

*

Sometimes, their friends developed mad
crushes on him. They watched to see if he needed their help in
extricating himself but he never took offense and wielded his
rejections with kind courtesy, using them as his shield.

“I’m wildly attracted to you, Rafe. Just let
me give you a blow job. I know I could make you so happy.”

“I can’t do that, Blake. I promised Vic and
Chas I wouldn’t get involved with any of their guests. They have
sort of a non-fraternization policy and I respect them too to let
them down but if I was going to do that, Blake, you’d probably be
the one.”

“I would, Rafe?”

“Yes, but it’s not going to happen so…..”

*

“Have you ever been tempted, Rafe, even a
little bit, by a man?”

“You know, Vic, I guess I’ve never given it
any thought. It’s not that I’d have any moral compunction against
it. If, say, I was in prison and there were no women, I wouldn’t go
without sex. I’d probably be the first one to tag myself a partner.
I imagine one mouth on your dick feels pretty much like another.
It’s just the girls have always been so available, I never had to
think any farther than that.”

“Yes,” said Chas in his wry manner, “I
suppose when you’ve taken it upon yourself to single-handedly fuck
one entire half of the sexual universe, you don’t really need any
more options.”

*

They faithfully read the Princeton Weekly
Bulletin on-line for news about him. Then they started going to his
games, jumping up and screaming, “run, Rafe, run” when he got a
hit. When he drove one home, he always looked up and gave them a
victorious thumbs up as he jogged back to the dugout.