The Von Bucati Mansion
By Dan Watt
Author of the e-books Ruby Queen and Sylvia on Kobo.com; and e-books Lucy and the Snivel Chair on Amazon.com
Al Lewis (Grandpa from The Munsters TV series) said Fred Gwynne (Herman Munster) would take off his boots for lunch and sweat would pour out. We have to work hard to make it look easy.
“I keep getting that,” I say as the limo slows down and stops. “I guess we’re here.”
“I guess–,” Wanda starts to say when a beautiful girl with curly blonde hair and emerald green eyes gets into the limo and sits in the seat beside Wanda. I can tell she has some oriental descent from the luscious epicanthic fold of her upper eyelids. Her lime green miniskirt with white and blue flowers is tight across her ample bosom and stretches over her tiny waist and lovely round hips.
“Hello, Wanda,” Wanda says with a shaky, jealous voice. I see her reach out her right hand.
“Yoshima,” the new girl says in a soft, sweet voice as she shakes Wanda’s hand. Yoshima reaches her hand towards me.
“Charles,” I reply, taking her hand.
“What do you do for Mrs. Bucati?” Wanda asks Yoshima in an irritated voice.
“I am Mrs. Bucati’s hairstylist.”
“Can I pour you a drink Yoshima?” I ask with a handsome grin.
“Yes, is there vodka and orange juice?”
Wanda takes out the orange bottle we finished off and shrugs, “Sorry. Maybe Charles has some in his fridge.”
I can feel my face grow red. “I don’t think you want to drink it,” I say with a higher voice than I normally use.
“Why not?” Yoshima asks, leaning forward, dazzling me with her emerald eyes and creamy bosom.
“Have you seen the chauffer?”
“No.” Yoshima and Wanda say at the same time.
I take the orange juice bottle and pass it to Yoshima. She opens it and grimaces. “Gross, it smells like urine and alcohol!”
Wanda leans forward. “You can smell it from where I’m sitting. Put the lid back on!”
Yoshima re-lids and passes it to me.
“Guess he couldn’t hold it,” I say with a shrug and put the bottle back in the fridge.
“He needs to be fired–,” Wanda begins when the limo stops again.
A lean freckled face woman with shoulder length strawberry blonde tresses opens the door beside Yoshima, closes it, opens the door across from me, and sits down. Calm lake water under a hot sun eyes stare at me. The freckled face beams at me. “Are you related to Mrs. Von Bucati?” she asks me in a sultry voice.
“No he isn’t,” both Wanda and Yoshima say at the same time.
“His eyes look like hers,” the new girl says leaning her face closer to mine. “I’m Michelle.”