From The Seduction of Emy and Other Stories

Copyright 2023 A. R. Gregory

 

Just Call

The pink business card read Francine’s Fantasies ina frilly, fuschia script. Under that was printed personalized consultations, then one of those pay-by-the-minute phone numbers. I found mine lying in the grass in front of my house just after the new neighbor moved in next door.

Runcy, whose house on the other side of her, said he found his on the sidewalk in front of his property. When Runcy checked the real estate transfers online, sure enough, the new neighbor’s name was Francine Something-or-other. I dunno. Francine Monroe? Mansfield? Something like that.

In no time, everybody in the neighborhood was talking about what the hell Francine was up to in her house. We all thought we had a pretty good idea, but Francine’s house being right between Runcy’s and mine wasn’t any help in confirming our suspicions. Neither one of us could spot a thing through Francine’s windows, what with her drapes always drawn. Me, Runcy, Jackson, Mack, Sam, and the rest of the retirees on the block were all on fixed incomes. We all knew the value of a buck. Nobody wanted to be the sucker who had to pay to find out what Francine was up to. Of course it had to be what we were all thinking. But “personalized consultations” on the phone? Who wanted to pay good money just to hear somebody talk about sex, somebody you couldn’t even touch, even see...?