Intervention

"Just give me a few minutes to clean up," Dean said as he stepped back into the bathroom.

Once he'd done so, he lifted the hamper cover to toss in the now dirty hand towel and there, laying on the top of the other dirty laundry, was the soiled bra Shirley had taken off earlier. Curious, Dean took a second to glance out the half open door to see that the older woman was no longer in the living room, then lifted the garment to examine it.

It wasn't the first brassiere he'd ever seen, of course, having grown up with a sister who always seemed to leave the laundry for him, but this was certainly the largest. A check of the small tag on the strap showed it to be a 40D. Melanie, he thought, was about a 36C and his sister was an even smaller 34B. Just before tossing the bra back into the hamper, Dean tried to imagine what the breasts that filled something that big might look like.

"Pizza is on the countertop," Shirley said as Dean joined her in the kitchen. "Would you like a beer with it? If not, there's also soda in the fridge."

"A beer would be great," Dean replied as he slid two slices of pie onto one of the large dinner plates Shirley had set out. "Fixing that faucet was demanding work," he laughingly added.

Technically, the state's drinking age was twenty-one, but that only really applied to the purchase of alcohol. His father had been letting him enjoy the occasional beer since he was sixteen, recalling that his own father had done the same.

'Why don't we take this into the living room where it's more comfortable?" Shirley suggested as she handed Dean a green hued bottle.

Dean glanced at the small Formica kitchen table for two that pretty much took up the rest of the room and decided that wasn't a bad idea. Not that the living room was much larger, especially since it doubled as a bedroom at night. That was when Shirley would move the furniture and pull the bed out of the couch. For now, however, it was a comfortable enough place to sit as they placed their plates and bottles on the coffee table in front of it.

They made small talk while they ate, discussing nothing of real importance as first one slice, then another disappeared from their plates. Along with them went the contents of the cold bottles. Shirley asked how the job was going at his uncle's store and how he was doing with his courses now that the semester had started.

Dean replied that both were going well, although it was sometimes hard to find the time to do everything that he needed to get done. While his uncle was indeed flexible in what hours he kept, he wasn't as generous in what he paid for those hours. Still, he was happy to have the job at all.

"You know, I could speak to old man Gilhooley and see if you could pick up a shift or two at the diner on weekends," Shirley offered. "He always liked you and besides, he owes me a few favors."

"That would be awesome," Dean said with a bright smile, one that abruptly faded as he considered the downside of working more hours. "Maybe I should wait and see if Melanie is okay with me working more hours."

"The two of you are on a break, remember," Shirley said. "Besides, what business is it of hers how many hours a week you work? Do you tell her how many hours she should spend at her job?"

Not that Melanie would ever think she should spend more time working. In fact, she only spent as many hours at the bakery as she thought she needed to convince her father that she was indeed making the effort to turn her life around. It didn't fool anyone and if it wasn't for the fact that his wife would kill him if he fired her, John Howard would've done so by the second week. Instead, he hired a second girl to make up for the work that his daughter didn't do.

"Why don't I just clear this all away?" Shirley said once both the plates and beer bottles were empty, stacking the latter on top of the former once she'd stood up.

Dean started to rise to help her, but she shooed him back onto the couch with a wave of her hand and a discouraging look. Once he'd sat back down, she asked if he'd like another beer as she was planning to get herself one.

Normally, one was the rule at home, but Dean reminded himself that he wasn't at home. Besides, he'd walked the twelve blocks between there and Shirley's apartment, so it wasn't like he was getting in a car afterwards.

"Sure, why not?" he replied.

"I'll be right back," she replied, taking only as long as it took to drop the dirty dishes into the sink and grab two refills out of the refrigerator.

Shirley let Dean make a good start on the second bottle before she decided he was relaxed enough to move onto a more serious discussion.

"Dean, we've been friends for, what, three years now, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, that sounds right," he agreed, "I started at the diner in the middle of my sophomore year."

"And have I ever given you bad advice?" she added.

"No -- in fact, I've always appreciated the advice that you gave me," he smiled, "especially about girls. I'd have been way too embarrassed to ask my sister, or, God forbid, my mother about some of those things you explained to me."

"So, why is it that you won't take my advice about Melanie?" Shirley said in a forceful tone.

"I know that you think that Melanie takes advantage of me," Dean replied, "but she really doesn't. She cares about me."

"Really?" Shirley asked, then unexpectedly added, "Has she fucked you yet?"

"What?" a shocked Dean replied. "What kind of question is that to ask?"

"A fair one," Shirley calmly replied, "especially seeing as she expected you to buy her gifts like those diamond earrings. Oh, and don't act so shocked. Remember, I'm the one who explained to you what a clitoris was."

'No, she hasn't," Dean replied, his indignation fading as he recalled how helpful her explanations had been, even if he had not been able to put any of the information to practical use yet. "She says that she's saving that for the man she marries."

"Yeah, right," Shirley said in a doubt filled tone. "Then has she at least given you a blow job?"

"No, she thinks just the idea is disgusting," Dean replied, regret clear in her own voice.

"You're kidding," Shirley said, "she actually said that?"

About a month ago, Deputy Sheriff Troy Wallace, also a member of Shirley's poker circle, had stopped by the diner for a late night coffee. The two got to talking and after saying that normally he would be reluctant to share the story he was about to, he explained that he was doing so because he felt he owned her.

Earlier that evening, he'd driven up by Mushroom Hill, the local make out spot out by the rail line. Deputies did so occasionally, just to keep an eye on things, but few didn't turn a blind eye to all but the most serious infractions. Even the two women on the force usually viewed the ongoings with the memory of nights they had once spent up there themselves with boyfriends.

Anyway, Troy said, who should he see, from a discreet distance of course, but Melanie Howard, in the back seat of Matt Cody's old Cadillac convertible. It was impossible to miss her, he explained, because not only was she topless, but she was going to town on the former halfback's cock, giving him what had to be a first-class blowjob.

"Now, if it was anyone else, I just would've filed it away under things that aren't any of my business," Troy said, "but I know that she's supposed to be seeing that Harriman kid. I don't really know him, but I know that he's a friend of yours and ..."

"He is," Shirley had said, cutting him short and then thanking the officer for bringing it to her attention.

"Does she do anything for you?" Shirley asked, trying not to show the anger she felt at the image that she now pushed from her thoughts.

"Well, she gave me a hand job on my birthday last month," Dean said, "and she lets me play with her breasts when we make out."

"Over her blouse or under it?" Shirley further inquired, feeling that it made a big difference.

"Over," Dean replied, that earlier regret reasserting itself, "but she promised she'd let me take it off soon."

'God, is this girl is playing him,' Shirley thought, the anger returning.

"Did she happen to make that promise about the same time she pointed out those earrings?" Shirley asked, this time making no attempt to hide her disdain.

Dean's silence said that it might not have been right then, but it was clear that it had been insinuated under similar circumstances.

"Dean, why are you with this girl?" Shirley asked, the exasperation in her voice more than clear.

"Who wouldn't want to be with her?" he replied. "She was just about the most popular girl in school."

"That wasn't my question," Shirley countered.

Dean took a very long pause before answering, one during which his expression prefaced what Shirley could tell was going to be an uncomfortable answer.

"People see her with me and it makes me popular too," he said.

"Why would they think that?" Shirley asked.

"Because they think that I'm doing it with her," Dean said after another moment's hesitation, not needing really to define what 'it' meant.

"And you think that's enough?" she asked.

"Sure, why not?" Dean replied. "I mean, look at her, she's practically a goddess. What would be better than having my friends think I was screwing her?"

"Maybe actually screwing her?" Shirley suggested.

From the look that flashed across Dean's face, it was clear that was something that had occurred to him more than once.

"Dean, you have to believe me when I tell you that you and Melanie is never going to happen," Shirley said, repeating advice she had given him at least a half dozen times before, "and if by some unexpected set of circumstances it did, it'd carry a price you wouldn't want to pay."

Now, Shirley decided, was the time to give him the whole truth.

"Melanie is not the girl she wants you to believe she is," Shirley said as, after taking a long, deep breath, she shared not only the anecdote from Deputy Wallace, but a few others she had gathered from other sources.

"People like to spread stories about her," Dean said, waving aside the stories with a wave of his hand. "A lot of people just don't like her."

"Have you ever wondered why?" Shirley asked.

Dean didn't have an answer.

"Where do you think she is this weekend?" Shirley asked. "Home giving serious thought to your relationship?"

"I guess so," he said.

"Well, if you were to call her house right now, I think you'd find that not only isn't she there, but she isn't even in town," Shirley told him.

"I don't understand," Dean replied.

"I stopped off at the Howards' Bakery this morning to add to this week's order for the diner. While I was there, Barbara Howard happened to mention that she was filling in because Melanie had gone up to Concord early this morning."

"Her aunt lives in Concord," Dean said, offering an explanation.

"True," Shirley replied, having known Gloria Howard back when she lived in Lakeview Heights, "but that wasn't who she was going to see. Barbara happened to mention that it was a pity that Melanie decided to go up there this weekend, because her sister-in-law went to Philadelphia with a few of her girlfriends to shop."

Now Dean didn't have a reply.

"Also, Melanie didn't go up there alone," Shirley added. "Matt Cody is driving her."

"Melanie is not a very good driver," Dean said, justifying the former fullback's presence by recalling that she'd barely passed her driver's test.

"God, when are you going to see things for what they are?" Shirley said, exasperated. "They're going up to the Codys' cabin at Lake Kennedy, and they're not going up there to go fishing."

Back when Melanie had been dating Brian Fortelli, there was a rumor going around that she was also letting his teammate, Matt Cody, cross the line of scrimmage on occasion. If it wasn't true then, it certainly was now.

"You must think I'm a real idiot," Dean finally said after a long pause.

"No, I'd never think that," Shirley said, her voice soft and comforting as she realized that finally the veil seemed to be lifting from his eyes.

"I guess I've always sort of suspected that Melanie wasn't always telling me the truth, but I just couldn't make myself believe it," Dean went on. "Every time I try to confront her about it, she just changes the subject and I go along with it. It's like she has this power over me, almost like a spell."

Dean's phrasing reminded Shirley of something an old friend once said to her and she believed that she knew the nature of that spell.

"Dean, are you still a virgin?" Shirley asked, even though she was already pretty sure of the answer.

A mortified look filled his face as he nodded his head in the affirmative.

"There's no need to be embarrassed; we all are at one time," Shirley said in response to his downtrodden look. "It's not a terminal condition."

Dean sort of shrugged, then finally looked back up at her.

"I assume Melanie knows that you're a virgin," Shirley said.

"Well, yeah, I wanted her to know that our first time would also be my first," he replied.

But not hers, Shirley was sure, even though she had no concrete proof.

As angry as Shirley had been with the double-timing vixen for the way she had been taking advantage of Dean, she was even more infuriated now that she knew all the details. This ended today, and in a burst of inspiration she had a good idea on how to ensure that it did.

"So, what do I do now?" Dean asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Aside from dumping the bitch, you mean?" Shirley asked, not really needing to phrase it so bluntly but unable not avoid describe Melanie exactly as she saw her.

"I guess so," Dean replied, still unable to do the same.

"Well, I'm thinking a good start would be to get you laid," Shirley suggested in such a matter of fact tone that Dean was sure he had heard it wrong.

"What?" he said.

"We get you laid," she repeated. "I think once that's out of the way, you'll find Melanie's spell, as you call it, really isn't that powerful anymore."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean said, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?" Shirley replied, her tone totally serious.

"You make it sound like it's easy," Dean replied, still not quite sure if she was pulling his leg or something.

"Trust me, it's not as hard as you think it is," Shirley countered.

Now the look on Dean's face said that he really didn't believe that either.

"Your problem, Dean," Shirley pointed out, "is that you're confusing sex with love. The two don't have to be mutually inclusive. You can have one without the other. There are plenty of women out there who enjoy uncomplicated sex as much as guys; you just have to know how to find them."

"I don't think there are many in Lakeview Heights," Dean replied.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Shirley laughed, "but actually, I was thinking more in terms of that college you go to. I'm sure that there are plenty of girls that might fit the bill."

"Leyland is an all-male school," Dean pointed out. "I told you that when I first applied, don't you remember?"

Thinking back, Shirley now remembered him saying that.

"I guess I forgot," she said, adding. "That would be a problem."

Shirley paused for a second, remembering another young man who had worked at the diner about a decade before Dean. Jimmy Garrett had a reputation for trying to bed anything in a skirt, but it wasn't until he moved out to San Francisco that anyone discovered it had all been a ruse, to cover up his interest in other guys.

"That is a problem, right?" Shirley carefully asked, not wanting to arbitrarily dismiss the possibility that there might be a hidden reason why Dean had been willing to endure Melanie's abuse.

"Oh yeah, definitely a problem," Dean quickly replied, once he realized what she was asking.

"Okay, I just wanted to be sure," Shirley smiled, "not that I would've had a problem if it wasn't."

"No, I like girls," Dean said, not thinking he needed to add that if that hadn't been the case, he'd already had offers from two of his fellow students to explore other options.

"Good," Shirley said, putting the awkward moment behind them. "So, we'll just have to narrow our focus to opportunities here in town. "

Even without trying, Shirley could think of a couple of women that would jump at the opportunity to take a cute young guy like Dean to their bed. Women who loved sex but not the complications of a relationship.

The first name that came to mind was one she just as quickly discarded. Interstate truckers weren't the only ones Joy Curtis was wont to invite out to the storage shed, but as good a fuck as she was claimed to be, Joy would be a poor choice for a young man's first time.

Her second consideration was also quickly scratched, for different reasons. Mary Ferguson was newly divorced, having discovered that her asshole of a husband was screwing the hell out of his twenty-year old secretary. She'd confided to Shirley over drinks recently that she'd love to prove that she too could bed down someone half her age. The problem with Mary was that her son was one of Dean's friends, and that might make it awkward afterwards.

The last possibility, however, seemed tailor made. At thirty-two, Sylvia Myers was five-nine, stacked, and had a proclivity for young men, especially inexperienced ones. Also divorced, the failure of her marriage had nothing to do with her extramarital romps, of which her husband had been quite ignorant. Dean was just her type, and Shirley was certain the lustful blonde would love to add him to the notches on her bedpost.

"Shirley, are you really serious about this?" Dean said, interrupting her musings.

"Only if you want me to be," Shirley replied. "I wouldn't do anything that you didn't want me to."

That she had gone out of her way to destroy his relationship with Melanie didn't count she told herself. That had been for his own good.

"You're going to find me a girl who'll have sex with me?" Dean asked, wanting to be sure of what she was saying.

"No, I'm going to find you a woman to have sex with," Shirley clarified.

"Isn't that what I said?" Dean asked.

"Think about it a bit. I'm sure you'll figure out the difference," Shirley said.

With that, Shirley got up from the couch and, picking up the still partially filled beer bottles, carried them into the kitchen. Given the unexpected turn of events she felt neither of them really needed any more to drink.

As she poured the remaining beer down the drain, Shirley now also wondered if perhaps she was taking this a bit too far. She'd accomplished her goal in breaking up Dean and Melanie, and while the idea of getting him laid hadn't been part of the plan, it did seem something worth doing. Especially since his frustration in that area was what allowed Melanie to take such advantage of him.

Shirley hadn't heard Dean as he followed her into the kitchen, not until he was standing right behind her.

"For a girl, sex on a Saturday night is a momentous event," Dean said. "For a woman, it's just sex on Saturday night."

"Close enough," Shirley said, a smile on her face.

"Shirley, can I ask you something?" Dean said as he moved to her left.

"Always," she answered.

"Were you saying that you want to be my Saturday night?" he asked.

"What?" she replied, a sense of shock clear in her tone.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Dean said, her reaction to his question making it immediately clear that he has totally misread the situation. "I never should've said anything like ..."

"Dean, it's okay," Shirley replied just as quickly. "You just took me by surprise, that's all. What made you think that was what I was saying?"

"I guess ... I guess because I was hoping that was what you were," Dean said after a bit of hesitation.