Pretty Paula's Poodle Skirts

Unperturbed, Mrs. O'Donnell kept speaking. "Now Paula, if you have any problems with your tummy and get diarrhea, make sure you see a doctor straight away. It may be a sign of something more serious, something you picked up from the many germs that live at college."

Paula groaned. "Mom, Dad is a doctor. He's already said that there are no problems with infectious diseases on a college campus in America. And I'm 18-years-old, I think I'm capable of looking after my own health, Mom."

"You may be 18, and you may be going to college, but you do not know everything, Paula," said Mrs. O'Donnell. "Neither does your father. Now, I packed extra sanitary napkins for you to use, in case you can't find a pharmacy with a female staff member the next time you have your monthlies."

"Mom, please," protested Paula, her face as red as her hair, but again her mother paid no attention.

"I also bought you another sanitary belt, which I slipped into your bag," continued Mrs. O'Donnell. "I know that you and your friends like to go dancing, and I just worry you might break the elastic in the one you have now ..."

"Mom!" said Paula. "I don't think anybody has ever broken their sanitary belt while dancing. It's ridiculous, and can we not have any more conversations like this, please?"

"Well, if that's your attitude young lady ..." began Mrs. O'Donnell, before she caught sight of Robbie in Mr. and Mrs. Collins' bedroom out of the corner. He had finally managed to change the light globe and deeply uncomfortable by the conversation outside the door, had decided to stay put.

Mrs. O'Donnell glared at Robbie as though this was his fault before going downstairs. Paula and Robbie, both equally embarrassed, gave each other sympathetic looks that clearly said, 'Parents!' and went downstairs after her mother.

When it was time for the O'Donnell's to leave Paula, Mrs. O'Donnell almost fell apart, breaking down in tears. However, this was not so much caused by her missing her daughter, but her fear that Paula would be infected by some disease at college.

"Now, you will take care of yourself, Paula?" she sobbed into her handkerchief as she hugged Paula. "I'll never forgive myself if you get sick, or even die."

Paula, Joshua and Doctor O'Donnell all looked embarrassed. "Cecily, like I said, Paula will be just fine," said her husband. Doctor O'Donnell turned to his daughter, and they embraced. "Paula, remember what I said; good grades are important, and it is not squared to study."

Again Paula and Joshua looked exasperated at their father trying, and failing to use expressions favored by teenagers. Paula and Joshua embraced, then her parents and brother climbed into their car and Doctor O'Donnell drove away, Paula waving goodbye before turning to go back inside.

"So, that's my family," Paula said to Robbie, with an embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry about the way you had to fix the light after my brother broke it, and about my mother. That was so embarrassing."

"I didn't hear anything you were saying," lied Robbie, "and I'm sure she means well."

Paula smiled. "I know you must have heard far more about me than you wanted to, but that's my mother. You wouldn't call her a health fanatic; a sickness fanatic is more accurate. You know, during that big polio epidemic back in 1952, she kept my older sister Helen, Joshua and I inside the house all summer, and she worried non-stop about Dad bringing it home, with him being a doctor. And when it was announced that there was a vaccine available, she had us camped outside the surgery before dawn so we would be first in line. Even then, she worried that there might be a new type of polio resistant to the vaccine."

"During that summer, like every summer, my mother ordered me, my older sister and younger brother out of the house every day, and not to come back until dark," said Robbie, as he and Paula went into the lounge, and she sat down on the couch, Robbie in a chair.

"It's interesting that you have an older sister and a younger brother too," said Paula. "What are they like?"

"My older sister Lorraine, she's married and has a twin son and daughter. They live right across the street from my parents."

"My sister Helen and her husband have boy-girl twins too," said Paula. "They are so cute."

"Cute isn't really a word I'd use for my niece and nephew," said Robbie, his mind filled with the images of the two screaming toddlers who were impossible for Lorraine or Billy to control. "My younger brother Patrick, he has problems. Mom and Dad call him a spastic, but I don't like that word."

"I agree, it's not very nice," said Paula. "With me, Helen and I always wanted a baby brother, but when Joshua arrived and began to grow up, we thought, 'Can we return him?' As you can see, he gets into everything, and now he wears that awful hat everywhere. I think he does it just to annoy me."

Robbie laughed. "I try really hard not to be embarrassed by my brother, but it's not easy."

"I can imagine," said Paula. "As you saw with my Dad, he spends most of his spare time correcting my grammar. That wouldn't be so bad, if he didn't try to use expressions teenagers use, and get them wrong. Like 'squared'."

"I did notice that, but I didn't like to say anything," said Robbie. "Actually, if you want to see embarrassing, you should meet my Dad. One time, it was a Saturday, and Dad was actually in a good mood, which is rare. This new family was moving in next door, and Dad went over to say hello. Mom didn't, but she's not what you'd call friendly. My brother was on the front lawn pretending to be an elephant, which he often does. So Dad is introducing himself to the new neighbors, and he noticed that their youngest son had irons on his legs from polio. So Dad booms out, loud enough for the entire street to hear, 'I see your son is a spastic too, just like my youngest son.'"

Paula rolled her eyes. "Oh my," she said.

"'Oh my' is right," said Robbie, "and it didn't end there. The family just looked shocked, and Dad said, 'My son goes to spastic school. Perhaps your kid and my kid could catch the bus there together with the other spastics and slows?'"

"I don't want to be disrespectful about your Dad," said Paula, "but I'll never complain about my Dad correcting my grammar in public again."

"My Dad is kind of a nightmare," said Robbie. "Even when the embarrassed couple explained about their son, Dad said, 'Oh, so he's just a cripple then, not a proper spastic?' and went back to working in the front yard."

"If my mother saw a kid moving in next door who had had polio, she would be on at my father to move," said Paula. "Like I said, she's a hypochondriac. You said your Mom isn't like that?"

"No, not at all," said Robbie. "She's the opposite. When Lorraine and I were younger, we had to take it on ourselves to go and get shots, and her only comment would be, 'Make sure you two kids take the spastic with you, and he gets one too.' Patrick bit the doctor a few times, but then he doesn't know any better. Lorraine and I took him to have a polio shot when she had her kids immunized, and Patrick went wild. I can see why though. Those things really hurt. Lorraine could hardly drive on the way back her arm was so sore, and Patrick punched me where I had had mine."

"That must have killed," said Paula, sympathetically rubbing her own arm.

"It sure did," said Robbie. "Patrick doesn't know his own strength."

"So, this is freedom," said Paula, looking around the lounge. "No parents, no younger brother. Mr. and Mrs. Collins seem like such nice people."

"They are," said Robbie, as he and Paula continued to talk throughout the afternoon. Robbie couldn't believe how luck had been on his side again, and he now shared a house with a beautiful girl with a wonderful personality.

Robbie and Paula volunteered to do the dishes that evening, and just as they were finishing, they heard a knock on the door, and Mr. Collins went to answer it. He let the person who called inside, and into the kitchen walked a tall, handsome blonde haired young man, wearing a shirt from the college - a different one to Paula - he attended and blue jeans.

Instantly, Paula's attention switched to the newcomer. "James, it's so swell you came over," she exclaimed throwing her arms around him, the two of them kissing on the lips.

"It's great to see you, baby," said James, his expression controlled, his own enthusiasm coming off to Robbie as somewhat fake. He looked Robbie up and down, his expression clearly asking, "Who are you?"

Paula did the introductions. "James, I'd like you to meet Robbie McKinley, he rents the other room from Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Robbie, this is my boyfriend James Marsh."

"Nice to meet you James," said Robbie, extending his hand.

James returned the handshake with indifference. "Pleased to meet you too." He turned to Paula. "We need to hurry, Paula, if we're going to catch that movie."

"Okay, I'll be right there," said Paula. "I'll see you later, Robbie."

"See you later, enjoy the movie," said Robbie, as Paula took hold of James' hand and with a swirl of her poodle skirt, was gone from view. He heard a car start up outside, and drive off up the street, sounding much too fast.

Feeling a bit crest-fallen, Robbie put the dishes away. While he had only just met the girl, he found himself quite taken by Paula, but obviously she had a boyfriend, so nothing was ever going to happen there now.

*

Over the next month, Paula got acclimatized into the routine of college and was a pleasure to have living in Mr. and Mrs. Collins' house, and was always polite, pleasant and helpful. Despite knowing that she had a boyfriend, and trying to deny it to himself, Robbie found himself developing quite a crush on Paula.

Whenever Paula appeared, he would find a warm fuzzy feeling sweeping through his body, something that would also happen if anybody spoke of her, and at any chance, he would mention her in conversation. Robbie would admire Paula as she emerged from her bedroom in the morning to take a shower before college, walking barefoot to the bathroom dressed either in her blue pajamas or her white nightdress, her clothes for the day under her arm.

No matter what Paula wore; her more conservative floral dress to church on Sundays, her pedal-pusher knee length pants with a casual shirt or most usually her poodle skirts with blouses and bobby-sox, Paula looked great, especially when the sunlight reflected from her long red hair.

Sometimes Robbie had to remind himself not to do certain things. For example, when Paula took a bath or shower, he would sometimes find himself fantasizing about what she looked like naked either in the tub or under the constant flow of water from the shower, soap covering her nubile figure from her pretty face down to her dainty bare feet. Robbie would remind himself that this was not a good thing to be doing, and try to distract himself with something else.

Likewise, on another occasion Paula was hanging out her laundry, when Robbie glanced out of his bedroom window to see her pegging out her clothes on the line. His eyes drifted to her underwear; several bras and a number of pairs of cotton panties. He imagined the bras covering Paula's firm young breasts, and her panties her bottom and her private female areas, before reprimanding himself for his voyeurism, and closing the curtains.

As great as Paula was and given that Robbie especially observed her through a rose-colored haze, even Robbie could see one major problem with her, and that was that she was dating an absolute jerk and could not see it for herself.

Whenever James appeared, Paula would change from being an independent, articulate girl with a charming personality and a great sense of humor, to a subservient doormat. At first Robbie told himself that he was just jealous and that James was probably okay, but having seen more of Paula's boyfriend, he could see that James was anything but okay. Robbie had even overheard Mr. and Mrs. Collins saying how they had misgivings about Paula's boyfriend.

With a controlling attitude and an arrogance stemming from his wealthy upbringing, James treated Paula more like a possession than a girlfriend. Robbie would see them in town from time to time. Paula would be talking to her girlfriends and James would order her away to come with him. They would be walking hand in hand down the street and Paula would want to look in the pet store to admire the cute animals, and James would only permit this for the slightest second before pulling her away. They would go to a diner, and James would order for Paula, not even asking her what she would like. If Paula said that she had to work at her part-time job and couldn't meet him, he would get into a huff.

Robbie wished that Paula could see through him, but as he stood talking to his friend Tommy with whom he shared the car, and their friend Frankie, who was working on his motorcycle, his mind drifted to Paula going out with James for the day, to a place that he decided, to do what he wanted to do and when.

"Paula, Paula, Paula," said Tommy. "You're really hung up on this chick."

"No I'm not," Robbie protested.

"Yes you are," said Frankie, who finished making an adjustment to the motorcycle with a spanner. "If we were talking about Antarctica, you would say something like, 'Paula's skin is as fair as the Antarctic snow. I've met Paula, and she's great and that boyfriend of hers is an asshole, but there's nothing you can do about it."

"Yeah, you need to meet a chick of your own," said Tommy.

"And I've got just the person for you," said Frankie. "My cousin Ellie, she hasn't got a boyfriend. How would you like to go out on a date with her tonight?"

"Sure," said Robbie, thinking a date would be better than sitting watching TV wondering what Paula and James were up to. "Count me in."

"That's it, get back on the horse," said Tommy.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," said Frankie.

A date with a nice girl would have been just the thing Robbie needed. Unfortunately, Robbie didn't get a date with a nice girl. Ellie weighed close to 300 pounds, had bad skin and hair and wasn't a nice person at all, rarely speaking and appearing disinterested in everything Robbie said.

Dropping her home, Robbie fumed at Frankie for thinking that his awful cousin would be a good match, but was polite to Ellie, a sentiment she did not return. Robbie sighed; back to square one.

*

It was on the Wednesday following this dud date that Robbie returned home from work and went upstairs, pausing after hearing a sound from Paula's bedroom. He went to look and found her on top of the bed, sobbing into the pillow, tissues littering the area around her.

"Hey Paula, what's wrong?" asked Robbie, looking at her in concern.

Paula, her eyes red, tears pouring down her face, looked up. "James and I broke up," she sobbed, her voice unsteady for having cried so much. "I found a love-letter he wrote to his secret girlfriend, somebody called Chris, and we had this fight and we broke up. I'm so stupid, he was cheating on me with another girl behind my back and I couldn't see it!"

More tears cascaded down Paula's face, and Robbie, trying desperately not to jump up and down and shout hooray at the departure of James, handed her some more tissues.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Robbie reassuringly.

"Thanks Robbie, you're a good friend," said Paula.

Mr. and Mrs. Collins returned, and also appeared at the bedroom door, worried after hearing Paula crying. Seeing that Paula could probably need some female reassurance, Mrs. Collins went and sat with Paula and held her while she cried, Robbie and Mr. Collins going downstairs.

Mrs. Collins returned after about half an hour. "Paula's gone to sleep," she said, getting dinner ready. "Young love is fleeting, but thank goodness that dreadful young man is out of her life."

"I couldn't agree more," conferred Mr. Collins, as he went to read his newspaper.

*

Paula was as to be expected down for about two weeks after her break-up with James, despite the efforts of her friends, Robbie and Mr. and Mrs. Collins to cheer her up. Her own parents were of no help to her at all, Paula saying that her mother and father thought James was just perfect, and were devastated to find out that he would no longer be their son-in-law, finding a way to blame Paula for this.

On the Thursday night, Paula seemed almost back to her old self, and she and Robbie sat up late, both studying. Mr. and Mrs. Collins were out for the evening. "Sorry I've been so sad these last two weeks," she said to Robbie.

"That's okay, you don't need to apologize," Robbie assured her.

"Thinking back now, I'm glad to be rid of James," said Paula. "I couldn't see it at the time, but he isn't a nice person. Hopefully, I can find a much nicer guy now."

Robbie said nothing, because there was a knock on the door. He went to answer it, and to his amazement found James standing on the doorstep. "I want to speak to Paula," he said, no introduction, no please, no manners.

Having heard his voice, Paula came striding out of the lounge room. "What do you want, James?" she asked, hands on hips.

"I want my grandmother's necklace back, the expensive one I gave to you on your birthday," he demanded.

"That was a gift," Paula pointed out.

"Yes, a gift from when we were dating. Now we are not dating, and I want it back."

"So you can give it to your new girlfriend, Chris?"

"Never mind, just give it back. Now, Paula!"

"Hey, don't you speak to her that way," said Robbie.

"What's it to you?" demanded James.

"James, I will get the necklace," said Paula. "I don't want to keep it, I don't want anything that you gave to me."

James and Robbie glared at each other as Paula went upstairs, and returned with the necklace.

"Come on, give it to me!" James demanded, to which Paula, angered by his rudeness, threw it at him.

"Hey, don't do that," he snapped.

"You have it now, so get lost, James," Paula snapped back.

"Don't you talk to me like that," snapped James. He grabbed Paula by her blouse, but she twisted free and delivered a hard, stinging slap to his face.

"Get your hands off me, you creep!" she yelled.

His face filled with anger, James raised his hand, but Robbie gave him a shove and sent him sprawling. "You heard her, don't put your hands on her," said Robbie.

"Okay, you asked for it," yelled James, running at Robbie, his fist raised.

Robbie knew how to fight. He had learned at an early age, when his bastard of an old man had dressed him up in one of Lorraine's old dresses and locked him out of the house, so the local bullies would beat his son up and teach him to be tough. As James threw up punch at Robbie's head, he ducked and delivered an uppercut to James' abdomen. His reflexes quicker of the two young men, Robbie delivered a punch to James' face, splitting his lip and drawing blood.

"You bastard, you're dead," sneered James.

"Yeah, you want another punch like that?" asked Robbie. "Come on, take a swing."

The sound of a car engine was heard, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins returned. Mr. Collins burst out of the car. "What is happening here?" he wanted to know.

"It's none of your damn business, old man," snapped James.

"It's my damn house, it's my damn business. What are you doing here?" he demanded of James.

"I don't have to answer to you," James sneered. He realized he could never win a fight against Robbie, but to restore what pride he had left, threw a punch at Mr. Collins.

This was a big mistake. The man had been in the army, and knew a thing or two about self-defense. He blocked James' punch, then delivered his own to James' stomach, followed by a knee to his groin. James doubled over in agony, and Mr. Collins gave him a hard kick to his buttocks, before grabbing him by the collar and marching him to the pavement.