I sat dejectedly on the couch waiting for theinevitable call. After a few hours my wife called to say goodnight to me as shedoes every night. Since sh... wasn’t screaming at me I figured I had a reprieve tilltomorrow. I assumed Deb was so upset she couldn’t even call. Nothing happenedthe next day or the day after. By the third day I began to feel safer. Thethoughts of divorce and scandal slowly fading to be replaced by that cocky gotaway with it feeling. I knew I was safe when that Saturday Deb. I am truly surprised when his door does finally open, and he follows me down the stairs to the landing. I slow a little, but keep going down the next half-flight to the laundry room. He stops at the door, cracking it open to take a smoke. I don’t smoke, but I’ll gladly stand and talk to him if he’s there when I’m finished loading the dryer. He is still there. He’s watching me, as I bend over to tuck the laundry into the dryer. I can see him watching, and he makes no secret of it. His eyes tell. I step into the shadows and watch in admiration. She notices the boy observe her and places an ankle-booted foot onto one of the boardwalk benches. Hiking her skirts up, she makes a big deal of re-tying the ribbon at the top of the silk black stocking. As the boy greets her, she throws back the cowl of the caped black velvet cloak she is wearing and I see her face for the first time in... In ages.My eyes tear up and that's unusual for me. She's so beautiful and petite. Dark curling tresses. Carla was in my class, though not in my close group of friends; she was a very pretty dark-haired girl, with one of best figures in our year, and a demure manner that just radiated subliminal signals that she was really hot stuff underneath. No wonder the cool Miss Wilton had been tempted to take such a dangerous risk – if anyone was hot pussy on legs, it was Carla Viatelli.I gave the bossy teacher a cruel smile, and replied ‘She might not tell ... but maybe I will.’ Then inspiration took me a.