Island Fever Ch. 19

Chapter 19: "Slap"

"Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish?" Lindsay asked to no one in particular here at the dinner table on this breezy Saturday evening. Once she had the attention of everyone present, Lindsay continued, "I think it's tuna. But the can it came in says chicken. Chicken of the Sea."

Nearly everyone seated here at the dinner table - Pamela, Devon, Kristanna, Amy and Camille - looked at Lindsay with wide eyes, or simply had to hold back a barrage of laughter. Lindsay, in turn, offered everyone a quizzical expression.

"I thought you said you worked at a supermarket?" Devon confirmed, giggling, as she glared at Lindsay.

"I do," the 18-year-old responded. "I have worked at [Supermarket Name] in Ohio for a few years now. I'm a cosmetics clerk. What does that have to do with anything?"

Trying to keep a straight face, I explained to Lindsay, "Honey, it says Chicken of the Sea because that is the brand name. It is one of the largest seafood canneries in the world. But I assure you that it is fish - it is tuna. Chicken of the Sea cans only fish ... not chicken."

"Are you sure? I mean ... why does it say chicken, then?"

Amy laughed at Lindsay. "Do you really think that could be chicken you have? Do chicken swim in the sea?"

Lindsay suddenly looked very tentative. "Well ... I have never HEARD of a chicken that can swim. But that doesn't mean there are no chicken in the sea. I really don't know."

"OH MY GOD..." Kristanna huffed in amazement, that exotic Norwegian accent of hers in full effect, as Devon, Amy and Camille broke out into a fit of wild, hysterical laughter. Pamela stared at Lindsay in disbelief, the look on her face clearly suggesting that she had never been witness to a more ignorant remark from someone in her whole, entire life.

"What's so funny?" Lindsay whined, now a bit upset with the collective reaction. "I just asked a question!"

"It says Chicken of the Sea because that is the brand name," I reiterated, thinking to myself that Lindsay's naive comment could be forgiven because she was so incredibly hot and beautiful. It was always easy to forgive a woman this attractive, right? "I have no idea why the company chose that name, sweetheart. But I assure you that it is fish."

"Oh, okay," Lindsay finally relented, as the quartet of Devon, Kristanna, Amy and Camille continued to snicker and laugh. "This is really confusing to me for some reason. I think I will stick to Starkist canned tuna from now on."

And with that, the roof came crashing down with laughter.

"WHAT?" Lindsay screeched, glancing at her counterparts here at the table with a look of anger and disdain.

Amy, who was seated next to Lindsay, leaned over and embraced her with both arms from the side. "It is perfectly okay, baby," she said, unable to control her laughter. "I think that you are priceless! I will always remember my 31st birthday party because of the things you have just said!"

As Devon, Kristanna and Camille continued to snicker and laugh, Lindsay glanced at Amy and then became agitated. She tossed her napkin down onto the table and stood up, then placed both hands upon her hips and eyed everyone intently. "If you all want to make fun of me, I'll just skip dinner!" With that, the fertile-minded blonde turned and stormed off.

"Lindsay! Wait!" Devon called out.

"Come back, honey," Pamela volunteered.

"It be Amy's burdday party!" Kristanna reminded Lindsay, who had vanished into the adjacent front room. "Do not go!"

"She just can't get up and leave and like that," Camille sniped, her dark eyes cold and piercing as she stared off into the distance. "Tonight is supposed to be for Amy..."

"Well ... she just did," Pamela deadpanned.

Feeling as if Lindsay was long gone by now, Amy turned back around and glanced at everyone all around her. "I never thought that Lindsay could be that stupid! Everyone knows that Chicken of the Sea is a giant seafood retailer."

Camille was laughing again. "But Lindsay wondered if chicken could be found swimming in the sea, remember?"

"That is something I will never forget," Pamela mused.

"Let us have buffalo vings and chicken fingers tomorrow night for dinner!" Kristanna suggested. "I vunder vat she vould have to dink about eeder of dem?"

Amy imitated a possible reaction of Lindsay by saying in a sweet, innocent tone, "I didn't know that buffaloes had wings. They can FLY?" Amy broke out into an absolute rage of laughter once again. "How can someone be so STUPID?"

I felt as if Lindsay's ignorant (meaning, un-informed) comment about the Chicken of the Sea brand name was funny at first, although I was able to conceal my laughter. Now, however, I did not feel that way any longer. I did not like the fact that the others - in an effort spearheaded by Amy - were cracking jokes about Lindsay and calling her stupid. Actually, Amy was the only one saying that she was stupid.

I was not about to tolerate such interaction between any of my guests. Nor did I care to listen to another word.

"Vare are yew going?" Kristanna asked me, as I stood up from the table and glanced toward the adjacent front room.

"If you ladies would excuse me for a bit," I told them, "I have something that I must take care of. I'll be back." I exited the formal dining room, although Kristanna and Amy were calling for me to come back and re-join them.

Ignoring their pleas for now, I checked all corners of the spacious front room, but was unable to find Lindsay. Wanting to locate her, I ventured off to the below-ground recreation room. With all the arcade and pinball machines, and video game systems found there, the recreation room was a favorite hang-out spot for Lindsay. I figured that she may have went there to take a temporary refuge from the others and their wisecracking barbs. But unfortunately, I did not find Lindsay in the recreation room, either.

I did know where else to look. Lindsay could have been anywhere in this 60,000-square-foot mansion of mine. She could have even ventured outside and ran off into the night. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack...

Then, I remembered the voyeur room. It would provide me with Lindsay's exact location without having to search every nook and cranny of the estate and/or island on foot. Thus, it was a no-brainer - off to the voyeur room I went.

Lindsay was obviously upset because of how the others had treated her at the dinner table. Otherwise, she would not have stormed off even before our meal began. Plus, today was Amy's 31st birthday - and that dinner was going to be the start of her party. The only way that Lindsay would walk out on Amy's birthday party, I thought to myself, was if she was horribly angry. I wanted to find Lindsay, and calm her. Most of all, I wanted her to come back and enjoy the party.

In a way, I could easily look past Lindsay questioning the ingredients of Chicken of the Sea. But the same could not be said for her speculation about chicken possibly being able to swim in the sea. I admit that it certainly was not the brightest or most well-informed comment that a person could make. At the same time, though, Lindsay should not have been subjected to the snide laughs and barbs from the other ladies. In my book, at least, it was just plain wrong for Amy to call Lindsay stupid. That was rude, and very crass - no matter whether it was justified or not.

-

"Oh my God..." I muttered perhaps three or four minutes later, as I hurried into the voyeur room and immediately found Lindsay's whereabouts. On surveillance monitor 37-A, the little sweetheart was seated against the wall in the guest room corridor, with her knees up and arms secured tightly around them. What shocked me, however - and maybe even scared me - was that Trish was kneeling beside Lindsay. The two, it seemed, were having a discussion. Was Trish trying to hook up with Lindsay again? I sure hope not...

"I can't believe that everyone laughed at me like that!" Lindsay whined, pleading her case to Trish, as I flipped the audio switch on for the corridor. I transferred the video from monitor 37-A, which was small and located in the high corner of the wall, to the big screen just in front of me.

"Everyone laughed at you?" Trish asked.

Lindsay sniffed her nose and answered, "Well, I can't say that it was EVERYONE. Jeremy didn't laugh. Neither did Pamela. But Amy was laughing. So was Devon and Kristanna. Camille looked at me as if I was some sort of idiot. But at least ... at least J-Jeremy and Pamela didn't laugh at me."

"It's not in Jeremy and Pamela's characters to laugh or poke fun at someone else like that," Trish remarked. "I think it was perfectly alright for you to say what you did. Chicken of the Sea is kind of misleading if you don't know what the product is. It could be chicken, you know. Or it could be something from the sea. It's one or the other. If you've never had it before, it's perfectly okay to wonder exactly what it is. They should not have laughed at you."

"I also said something really, really stupid..."

"What was that, eh?"

"I wondered if there were chicken that could actually swim in the sea." Trish's eyes went wide with total astonishment as Lindsay fretted, "Oh ... that was the dumbest thing I have ever said! But they laughed at me for it, too! It made me feel so worthless ... like I was brainless."

"We all say silly things at one point or another," Trish mused, her voice calm and serene. "Jeremy and Pamela ... I bet neither of them laughed when you said that, either."

"Pamela looked at me like I was high on drugs," she responded. "But Jeremy looked at me like he always does. Just his calm, usual, easy-going self."

"I bet that Jeremy is mad at Devon, Kristanna, Amy and Camille because they made fun of you," Trish speculated. Indeed, she knew me well. "He doesn't seem to be the type who would tolerate that sort of thing. Not Jeremy."

Lindsay sighed and shook her head. "This is really bad. I'm hungry. I haven't eaten a thing since breakfast this morning. But I can't show my face to the others again. Not tonight, at least. What am I going to do? I'LL STARVE!..."

Trish eyed Lindsay for several seconds, then puckered her lips together for an instant before saying, "I'll go off to the kitchen and get you a dinner plate, or a snack, and bring it to you. You can eat it in your room, or wherever. That way, you would not have to see the others."

"I thought you were sick, though," Lindsay countered. "Jeremy said you were skipping the birthday party because you have a bad case of the flu."

Trish shrugged her shoulders. "I feel better now. I was feeling pretty bad earlier, but I feel better now. Jeremy gave me some medication, and the flu cleared right up."

Obviously, that was a minor lie on Trish's part. She was never sick in the first place. I agreed to allow her to skip Amy's birthday party as long as she played sick. Trish wanted nothing to do with the party because, in her own words, she did not want to subject herself to seeing Lindsay. But Trish was talking to her now...

"You would really bring me a dinner plate?" Lindsay asked, perhaps a bit surprised at Trish's generosity.

Trish shrugged her shoulders once again. "You said you are hungry. But you don't want to run the risk of seeing the others again tonight. So I'll go to the kitchen and get you something to eat. Why wouldn't I?"

Lindsay frowned. "I was pretty rough on you the other day with what I said in the recreation room."

"This has nothing to do with the other day, or what has been said between us," Trish informed her. "This is about you being hungry, and needing some food in your stomach. I cannot stand the thought of anyone being hungry. ANYONE."

Lindsay appeared genuinely grateful. "Thank you, Trish."

"You're welcome. What would you like me to get you, eh?"

"How about some orange juice, two pieces of rye bread and a can of STARKIST tuna?" Lindsay requested. "That way, I could make myself a tuna sandwich. Don't worry about getting my plate from the dining room. I don't want it."

-

"I got your food," Trish said about five minutes later, as she knocked on and then opened the door that led to the guest suite that - at least for the past couple of days - Lindsay had been sharing with Amy. Trish hesitated for a moment, then glanced around the empty suite with a confused expression across her face. "Lindsay? Where are..."

"I'm in here!" came the 18-year-old's voice.

Trish offered an inquisitive look toward the closed door of her own private bedroom. She went over to open it, and found Lindsay resting comfortably upon her old bed - the same bed where she once slept before moving in with Amy.

"I didn't expect to find you in here," Trish said, as she entered the suite, carrying a tuna sandwich on a platter and a tall, healthy glass of orange juice over to Lindsay.

"I always liked this bed," Lindsay mused, squirming about upon the mattress. "It feels much more comfortable than the one Amy and I sleep on together in the other room." Trish frowned at those words as Lindsay added, "But Jeremy says that all of the beds are the same. Strange, huh?" Lindsay giggled and concluded, "I guess Amy's bed has so many miles on it already that it is starting to break down!"

Trish sat down upon her own bed. "Yeah ... I guess so." Trish did not seem all too comfortable with her ex-girlfriend in the same room with her. Of course, the fact that Trish was still in love with Lindsay had everything to do with it. Just the mere presence of Lindsay was enough to drive Trish totally insane. Now, they were alone together...

"I cannot tell you how much I appreciate this," Lindsay said, as she took a bite out of the loaded tuna sandwich. "I am so hungry, I could eat a cow!" Lindsay took a few more bites before saying, "Can I ask you a question, Trish?"

"Sure."

"Why do you like me so much?"

Trish glanced over at Lindsay. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Why do you like me so much?" Lindsay repeated. "I mean, I have never had someone pursue me so very hard and so very aggressively before. Why do you like me so much?"

Trish appeared antsy and tentative. "I do not think this is the right thing for us to talk about." Lindsay shook her head rather vigorously as Trish continued, "You obviously do not want to have a relationship with me, and I accept that. I respect that. There is no need to talk about details."

"But I want to know," Lindsay insisted. "I want to know what it is about me that you like so much. I mean ... I look in the mirror, and all I see is a girl. A normal, regular girl. What is it about me that you find so appealing?"

Trish shook her head. "We shouldn't be talking this way. What I say, Lindsay, it could make you feel uncomfortable or apprehensive. Then you could go to Jeremy, and I'd get into trouble. I already had a long talk with Jeremy about you. He told me to let go and move on, and that is what I'm gonna do. Jeremy would not like it if we talked about this."

"I just want to know why you like me so much," Lindsay mused yet again. "Please tell me because I want to know. I promise that I won't feel uncomfortable or angry about it. There won't be anything for Jeremy to get mad at you about because I am asking a question, and you would answer it. That is all. He would not mind that one bit."

"I don't see the point of talking about this if there is no future between us. I'm sorry, but I don't."

Myself, I got the distinct impression that Trish did not want to speak with Lindsay at all. Trish was so enthralled with Lindsay, but knew that she could not have her as a love interest in her life. Thus, it actually hurt Trish to even have any type of verbal contact with Lindsay. Even this very discussion was clearly taking a mental toll on Trish.

I also got the sense that Trish was battling her urges as well. It seemed as if she wanted to pounce on Lindsay and make mad, passionate love to her. Watching Lindsay squirm and writhe about upon the bed in a little tank-top and cotton shorts seconds earlier certainly added fuel to that already burning fire. But Trish would never do that unless Lindsay was a willing participant. Trish was not the type of person to impose her will on anyone. Still, the urge for her was most definitely there. I could see it.

"What if I let you lick my pussy?"

"WHAT?" Trish did a double-take at those words.

"What if I let you lick my pussy?" Lindsay echoed. "Would you tell me then?"

Whether my previous inclination was correct or not, Trish most likely did the best possible thing once she rose from the bed and quickly exited the suite, thus leaving Lindsay all by her lonesome. As a result, Lindsay made a face and huffed angrily for a brief instant - obviously upset that she did not get an answer from Trish - but soon settled back down into her old bed and resumed eating the tuna sandwich. I could not believe what she had just said!

Lindsay was a total doll and sweetheart - no doubt - but I had learned from observing her during recent days that she possessed a snippy, somewhat mean side to her personality as well. It was not an endearing trait for her to have.

I refer back to Lindsay's comment (directed at Trish) from this past Sunday about Pamela and Devon each being the flavor of the day for me. That did not sit too well with me, obviously. Now, Lindsay seemed angry that Trish did not want to discuss a very sensitive subject which clearly made her feel very uncomfortable. There was absolutely no reason for Lindsay to be upset.

Also, what was the deal with Lindsay offering Trish the opportunity to perform oral sex on her? That certainly came out of left field, so to speak, and was not expected. It was also very out of character for Lindsay. Or was it? Was she truly the innocent, virgin angel I had always perceived her to be? Or was she something else?

Absolutely, Trish chose the best possible course by simply turning and walking away. Giving in to her desire there and indulging herself would have most likely led to some nasty ramifications in the future. But how could Lindsay make such an offer? Did she even understand her actions here? Did Lindsay understand what she was doing to Trish's pysche?

Perhaps it was the ignorance of her youth. That was my best guess. If so, Lindsay clearly had a lot more growing up to do - in both body and mind. It is strange, but when I was Lindsay's age (18), I thought I had all of the answers. I was an authority figure on every possible subject. Now, age 39, I realize that I knew nothing back in those days. Perhaps Lindsay would feel the same way as she got older...

-

Now would be an excellent time for to comment on the recent changes on the island. Due to the ending of Trish and Lindsay's relationship, they were no longer room-mates. Lindsay had moved down the hall into the suite formerly occupied by Pamela and Amy, who was sharing the room with her. Pamela remained good friends with Amy, but had agreed to move out so Lindsay could take her place.

As a result, Pamela had spent the previous two nights sharing a guest room with Trish. Their interactions with each other after-hours had been totally platonic thus far, but it seemed as if they were going to remain room-mates for the foreseeable future regardless. Pamela and Trish seemed to be forging a close friendship, which was great.

I was both disappointed and discouraged that the recent problems between Trish and Lindsay were dark spots on what had mostly been a mostly harmonious and enjoyable three weeks since the ladies had arrived on the island. Oh, there were other problems, too - most notably Lindsay's latest direction in life, and the fact that I still had yet to make an iron-clad decision between Pamela and Devon as to which one that I wanted to pursue a life-long relationship with.