Bound South by Susan Rebecca White

Author:Susan Rebecca White
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Touchstone
Published: 2009-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Patron of the Arts

(Louise, Labor Day Weekend 2004)

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asks Caroline. “Because there are plenty of other shops in the neighborhood for us to go to.”

“Caroline, I promised Tiny I would get her something from here. Now come on, let’s go.”

I push through the swinging door that leads into Good Vibrations, San Francisco’s “sex positive” outfitter, a place that Ray, the leader of Tiny’s singles group in Sea Island (where she is staying until her divorce from Anders is finalized), claims is “all orgasm, no sleaze.”

“Get me one of those Rabbit vibrators like Charlotte had in Sex and the City,” said Tiny when I told her John Henry and I were going to visit Caroline. “I’d order one off the Internet, but it’s illegal to have them shipped to Georgia.”

I am thinking about picking up a little something for myself too. Just something small and discreet. John Henry doesn’t even have to know about it.

John Henry doesn’t even know about this—Caroline’s and my little shopping spree. He is off having coffee (although more likely a beer) with Davis, and I fear that Davis is right this moment asking his permission to marry Caroline. Davis seems the type to do such a thing. He seems to me to be—sorry, Caroline—a real kiss-ass.

I don’t know. I suppose I should see asking the father’s permission as respectful but it reminds me too much of horse trading. Like Davis might agree to have Caroline immunized as part of the deal.

Tiny says somewhere along the line all of my southern blood just dripped right out of me. That’s not entirely true. I still have standards. You wouldn’t catch me dead wearing white shoes after Labor Day. And if you invite me to your house for dinner, you’ll receive a detailed thank-you note, exclaiming over the food, the flowers, the wine, and the company—even if I only had a so-so time.

“My heavens,” I say, once inside the shop. “This is quite a selection.”

“There’s probably a hundred different models of vibrators here,” Caroline says. “You can test them all.”

“That doesn’t sound very sanitary,” I say.

“Oh gross, Mom. No, you can test them by turning them on in your hand.”

I walk over to the far right wall, which is loaded with boxes of vibrators and tester models. Right away I spot the Rabbit, although there are several models to choose from. I pick up the Rabbit Pearl, which has what looks like a string of pearls curled into the base area—the balls—of the unit. When I turn it on the pearls rotate around the base. I can see how it would feel good.

Good Lord. This thing costs almost eighty dollars. I wonder if Tiny knew what an expensive gift she was asking me to pick up. Oh well. I grab one of the boxes and continue looking for a smaller, more delicate thing for myself.

Caroline, who buried herself in the book section the second we walked in, comes bounding up to

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