92.9 KITN, The Kitten That Roars

An hour later, Pam emerged from the bedroom and stormed to the living room. She did not care that it was only ten twenty three in the morning. She poured herself a vodka and tonic and gulped it down. A second one disappeared as quickly as the first.

She carried the tall glass to the kitchen. The shattered dishes and broken coffee mug and juice glass were no longer in the sink. The kitchen garbage can had a fresh trash liner in it. The small dishwasher hummed merrily.

"God damn it, did you not hear me?" Pam screamed as she carefully put the glass into the sink.

She marched to Terri's bedroom, preparing to pull the insolent bitch out of her house by her hair. She flung the door open and stared.

Terri was not in the bedroom. The sheets and comforter had been removed from the bed. The closet also stood empty. Pam pulled open a drawer of the chest of drawers; it was empty.

Terri's bathroom sparkled, but Terri's few cosmetics were not on the small vanity. Terri's hairbrush was not on the vanity. Her toothbrush was not in the holder.

A clean towel and facecloth were draped over the simple towel holder next to the shower stall. A small hand rag was draped neatly in the towel ring next to the vanity.

Aside from the humming of the dishwasher, the house was eerily silent.

At lunchtime, Pam made herself a peanut butter and blackberry jam sandwich. At dinner time, she made herself another peanut butter and blackberry jam sandwich, using the last of the jam.

Then she made herself a vodka and tonic. She ground her teeth angrily when she realized there was only enough vodka remaining for one more drink.

Then she remembered; Terri had quietly told her, she would not buy alcohol.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Pam snarled bitterly. "Oh boo hoo, Daddy's a drunk so it's okay for Terri to be a self-righteous little bitch."

She grabbed her keys off of the side table by the front door. Then she saw Terri's house key. The solitary key lay on the edge of the table, on top of the credit card Pam had given to Terri.

Sanity intervened. Pam didn't believe that she was drunk, but really could not risk getting a DUI.

She put her set of keys back down and touched Terri's house key. She picked the key up, then put it back down again.

Sunday morning, Pam wearily roused herself out of bed. There was no smell of coffee to greet her; she had not expected to smell coffee and it puzzled her that she would be upset that there was no coffee.

She made a pot of coffee and sat at her kitchen table. She finished the mug, then made herself a breakfast of cold cereal.

After her unsatisfying breakfast, she moved to put mug and bowl into the dishwasher. The latch was on and Pam remembered that Terri had set it to run just before leaving.

"Could have emptied it, bitch," Pam called out.

Putting the dishes away, Pam saw that she only had five plates left out of the eight person set she'd originally purchased. There were no more K.I.T.N. mugs remaining.

There was no more vodka; Pam grabbed the bottle of whiskey and debated with herself about cracking the seal. She hated whiskey; it always made her so violent, nearly psychotic in her rage.

"And it's not like you need any help there, huh?" Pam snarled out loud.

But rum made her so morose, so damned emotional. There was a bottle of gin. Pam stared at that bottle, trying to remember why she'd bought it. It had been opened; the paper seal was cracked.

"Oh, oh yeah, little Miss 'I'm Not Sure,'" Pam thought, then giggled.

Rose DeMarco was a cute red headed cheerleader at Myndee University. She had posted a notice in the University's 'People Meeting People' column on-line newspaper. In the little profile, Rose admitted she was curious about making love with another woman.

Pam had bought the fifth of gin for the girl. They had a few drinks, chatted, laughed. Pam had put on some soft music and they danced in her living room.

Rose was a taker. She lay on her back and let Pam lick, caress, and finger her to three orgasms. Then balked when it came time to return the favor.

Pam had bound Rose's hands to the legs of a heavy wooden chair. The girl actually reached orgasm from the belt flailing her creamy white buttocks. She'd had a second screaming orgasm when Pam had fisted her drooling pussy.

After the beating, after being fisted to another two orgasms, Rose was more than happy to lick and suck Pam's dripping pussy to orgasm. Then the girl cried, deep racking sobs when Pam declared there would be no follow up dates.

And now, Pam had a fifth of gin with which to remember the little bitch. She grabbed a tall glass.

Monday morning, Pam nearly called in sick. Her hangover was brutal; even her hair hurt.

But she had called a meeting of all their on-air personalities. Second place in the ratings was good enough for the shareholders, but it wasn't good enough for Pam.

"Oh, Bobby, call that, that, God, what's her name? The big woman?" Pam mumbled, wishing her office would quit spinning.

"Oh?" Bobby asked. "Who's out?"

"Ter, Honey Bee," Pam said, unable to look at the scruffy looking engineer.

"Huh? No she's not," Bobby said. "Came in at six, recorded her whole show."

"Came, what?" Pam asked, putting her aching head on the top of her desk.

"Yeah, said she had something else do at ten, taped the whole thing. Peanut butter waffles. My mom's got a waffle iron; think I'm actually going try it," Bobby said.

"Came in at six? What time you get here?" Pam asked.

"Uh, five. What time I get here tomorrow? Five. What time I get here every day? Five," Bobby said.

"What time the package store down the street open?" Pam asked.

"In Clarkston County? Can't open until eight," Bobby said, looking up at the clock. "Yeah, they're open."

The clerk smiled when Pam demanded two half gallon bottles of vodka. He placed them onto the counter, along with her large bottle of tonic.

"Hmm, having a party. Guess my invitation must have gotten lost," the man joked.

"Must have," Pam said, smirking. "But, you know what? It's a self-defense class for lesbians and we need a male volunteer, you know, to demonstrate where to kick, where to gouge. Want to come?"

"Have a nice day, ma'am," the clerk said.

Terri Triche was not in the meeting; Pam had not told her about the meeting. But even though Terri was not physically in the meeting, her presence was felt. Finally, just before twelve noon, Pam called an end to the fruitless meeting.

"Just, just try think of something, anything get us out of this second place slump," she ordered her employees.

Sitting in her office, Pam listened as Terri talked about making an apple compote to go on top of the waffles. She could feel the coffee rising up in her throat.

"Especially if you do the sour cream in the waffle mix?" Terri's voice happily said.

Pam retched into her wastebasket, but nothing came up. Finally, she turned the speaker down, turned down Terri's beautiful, bubbly voice.

Home again, finally, Pam fixed herself a tall vodka and tonic. She gratefully drank the burning alcohol down. Then her hands shook horribly as she argued with herself about fixing a second drink.

"And I am not fixing dinner," she said out loud.

"Homemade pizza is always a winner, especially if it's just you and a few friends over for movie night," Terri's voice bubbled. "After Hell Yeah, I'll tell you what you need for your thick and chewy crust."

During the broadcast, Bobby inserted commercials during the breaks. He listened as Honey Bee's voice told how to make a tangy pizza sauce, how to arrange the toppings for that perfect ratio.

Even though her voice was bubbly, cheerful, Bobby had seen Terri's pained eyes that morning. But the beautiful woman refused to talk about it.

"Phones are lighting up," Serenity, their receptionist cut into the broadcast.

"What you want me do about it?" Bobby barked at the girl. "Huh? She's not here. I keep telling everyone this is a pre-recorded broadcast."

"Don't have to yell at me; I'm just telling you," Serenity snapped.

"Let Pam handle it, huh?" Bobby snapped.

Serenity was terrified of Pamela White. The eye patch made the woman look sinister. And Pamela's attitude was sinister.

But one more caller yelling at her prompted Serenity to buzz Pam's office.

"Yes?" Pam barked.

"Ms. White, there's a bunch of people calling, wanting talk to Honey Bee," Serenity said.

"And? She's not here," Pam snapped.

"I'm sending them to you; YOU can put up with them," Serenity said in a rare show of bravado.

Pam got to her feet, bound and determined to have a little talk with Serenity Castillo. The girl was on probation, possession of Schedule IV narcotics, and needed this job as part of her probation plea. Pamela White was the manager, not Serenity Castillo.

Then her phone rang. She set her jaw firmly and answered the phone.

"Pam White," she barked.

"Uh, yeah, this Honey Bee? I mean, that girl said she was out today, but uh, my girlfriend? Says something's missing in us," a male voice begged.

"She's a disc jockey. I mean, she's a cook, she's not a counselor," Pam sputtered.

"Yeah, I know, but the other day? She was talking about kissing her girlfriend? And my girlfriend said I needed be more like that and I was just wondering..." the caller asked.

"You love your girlfriend?" Pam asked.

"Well, yeah, I mean, she's got this really nice, juicy ass and..." the caller said.

"Not her ass, idiot. Her. Do you love her," Pam snapped.

"Well, yeah," the man said, obviously confused.

"Then imagine you got all your love, every itty bitty fiber of your love, and it's all in your lips," Pam said. "Put your lips to hers and see if you can tell her, with just your lips how much you love her, care for her, need her, want her. And thank you for listening to ninety two nine, the kitten that roars."

"Yes ma'am?" Serenity cringed when her phone buzzed.

"Handle the next one; I need a potty break," Pam said, almost cheerfully.

"Uh, yes ma'am," Serenity agreed.

In the bathroom, Pam did use the facilities. Then, as Pam sat and listened to Terri's voice cheerfully talking about the different cheeses she used to make that perfect blanket over the sauce and toppings, Pam searched for and found Terri's phone number. She then hit the button.

"Hello?" Terri's voice answered after four rings.

"This is Pam," was all Pam could think to say.

"Yes ma'am?" Terri asked.

"I uh, could you, could you please come in tomorrow morning? For an interview? Nine o'clock?" Pam asked.

Pam was shocked; she felt a tear trickling down her cheek. She grabbed a wad of toilet tissue and wiped her cheek.

"I uh, yes ma'am," Terri agreed.

"Thank you, Pam said curtly and ended the call.

"I'm back, Serenity," Pam said when she returned to her office.

"Yes ma'am; line three's asking about Honey Bee," Serenity said.

"This is Pam," Pam answered line three.

Pizza Hut, Domino's Pizza and Benito's Pizza all had a thirty to fifty minute wait. The girl at Benito's Pizza told Pam that Honey Bee had broadcast a recipe for pizza that day and ever since then, they'd been swamped.

"Hope she does one for cheesecake; we got a cheesecake here to die for," the girl enthused.

"Terri Triche, I hate you," Pam smiled and waited patiently for her pizza order.

At eight fifty the following morning, Pam heard a squeal from the reception area. A moment later, her phone buzzed.

"Honey Bee, Terri Triche is here, Ms. White," Serenity said excitedly.

"Send her in," Pam said.

A moment later, there was a soft knock. Then Terri opened the door and walked into the office.

Pam's heart caught in her throat. It had been six days since she'd seen Terri.

Obviously, in those six days, Terri had gone to a hair stylist. Her long blonde hair had been softened, framing her beautiful face.

She'd also bought some new clothes. Terri was wearing a simple red silk blouse, a cream colored skirt and cream colored pumps.

"Ms. White?" Terri said, standing in front of Pam's desk.

"I'm interviewing a new housekeeper this afternoon," Pam blurted out.

"Oh," Terri said and slumped slightly.

"Sit down, please," Pam said.

"Yes ma'am," Terri said, taking a seat.

"I uh, I really appreciate you uh, you coming in every morning," Pam said.

"Yes ma'am," Terri said.

"I uh, I tried get a pizza last night," Pam said. "I mean, you talked about it on your show and... You know it was a fifty minute wait?"

"Should have gone to Benito's; they got a guarantee..." Terri said, now glancing around the office, looking at everything but Pam.

"That's where I went," Pam said. "They were sold out of pepperoni, sausage, ham, onions. I had to get a bacon."

"Oh?" Terri said.

"Girl said you should talk about cheesecake today; they got a cheesecake they're real proud of," Pam said.

"Ms. White? Why'd you ask me come in?" Terri interrupted.

"Because I'm a bitch," Pam confessed.

"Well, I know that," Terri said. "God, everybody knows that. But if you've already got someone lined up do your housekeeping, why'd you want me come in?"

"Because I'm a stupid bitch," Pam said.

Pam tried to study her computer monitor. She swiveled and looked at the clock on the wall. She looked at anything but Terri Triche. She choked back a sob.

"I hate you," Pam said. "I was just fine without you, you hateful, stuck up little bitch. Head cheerleader, Homecoming Queen, 'Most Likely To Succeed.' I didn't need you. I was doing just fine, I have a job, I have a house. I wasn't voted most likely to succeed, but I am a success, God damn it."

"Then what...?" Terri asked.

"Because I fucking need you, all right?" Pam nearly screamed, tears pouring freely. "I fucking need you."

"On the radio?" Terri asked softly.

"Fuck the station," Pam snarled. "God damned station could burn to the fucking ground and I would still need you, Terri Triche. I would still need you."

Terri got to her feet. Pam sucked in a breath, terrified that Terri would turn and walk out of her office.

"I need you too," Terri said quietly, walking around the desk to stand in front of Pam.

Pam flung her arms around Terri and buried her head against Terri's chest. Terri combed her fingers through Pam's curly hair. Then she kissed the top of Pam's head.

"I've got fifty one minutes until I have to go on," Terri whispered into Pam's hair. "Want to make love?"

"Fifty one minutes isn't long enough for what I want to do," Pam giggled.

"Then, how about a quickie?" Terri giggled.

"I'm sorry, Terri," Pam suddenly sobbed out. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Shh, it's all right," Terri soothed.

Oh, thank you Jesus!" Bobby enthused when Terri came out of Pam's office forty nine minutes later.

Terri blushed hotly as she realized that her blouse was unbuttoned to just above her navel. She brushed past Bobby and entered the booth.

"And..." Bobby counted down on his fingers.

"Hi, this is Honey bee and you're listening to ninety two nine, the kitten that roars," Terri said as she buttoned up her blouse. We're going to do a cashew chicken stir fry. It's quick, it's easy, it's filling, and it's cheap. It's also a way to get the urchins to eat their vegetables. After Pantera's 'This Love' I'll tell you what ingredients you'll need."

As she listened to Terri's voice through the speaker in her office, Pam called Dominique Martine and told the woman that her old housekeeper had returned. She promptly hung up on the woman's angry outburst.

"Hello caller, you're on with Honey Bee," Terri said.

"Oh, hi!" an effeminate man squealed. "Listen, on August nineteenth? We're having a little meeting? The LGBTG of Myndee? We're at the Pavilion on campus, and it's a gun free zone?"

"No. Thank. You," Terri interrupted the man. "I go nowhere without my three fifty seven magnum. There's enough weirdos and crackpots out there hate me for being gay. Like hell I'm going to tell them to come shoot me because I'm in no position to defend myself. Are you insane?"

Terri disconnected the call. Throughout the show, she had callers on both sides of the argument; those that claimed America needed stricter gun laws and those that stated it takes good people with guns to stop bad people with guns.

"Flat egg noodles or even just broken up spaghetti noodles works just fine if you don't have the time to do the fried rice," Terri said happily. "This has been Honey Bee. Thank you for listening to KTEN, the kitten that roars."

"Do you really have a gun?" Bobby asked when Terri left the studio.

In answer, she pulled the weapon from her purse. He nodded somberly.

"Come," Pam snapped when there was a soft knock on her door.

"Need a key," Terri said.

"It'll cost you," Pam smiled, holding up Terri's key.

"Oh yeah?" Terri smiled, closing the door to Pam's office.

"I am soo glad you're back," Serenity gushed as Terri walked through the Lobby an hour later.

"Thank you. I am too," Terri smiled.

Pam left at her usual time and wished Serenity a good evening. The girl looked up, shocked. In the months that she'd been working at the station, Ms. White had never wished her a good evening before.

"Uh, yes ma'am, Ms. White," Serenity stammered. "You too. See you tomorrow."

Pam actually took her sports car over the speed limit that evening. On the country road, she stomped down on the accelerator and almost missed her turn. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw Terri's Toyota parked to the side of the barn.

"Terri," Pam breathed as she could smell chicken pot pie cooking.

"Kitchen," Terri called back.

Pam threw her briefcase at the couch and scampered to the kitchen. There, stirring the ingredients for a pudding cake was Terri.

"Taste this," Terri said, holding out a spoon.

Pam accepted the spoonful. As she savored the rich dark chocolate flavor, Terri had wound her arms around Pam.

"Hi," Pam said, almost shyly as she wound her arms around Terri's waist.

"Hi," Terri breathed and kissed Pam's pouting lips.

Pam gently licked Terrie's lips and Terri opened her mouth.

"Hi," she breathed again.

"Hi," Pam agreed.

"Go get changed; dinner's just about ready," Terri ordered.

"What? Terri, this is my house," Pam giggled. "You don't tell me..."

"Fine, don't get changed," Terri giggled and kissed Pam's lips again.

Pam reluctantly let go of Terri's waist and walked to her bedroom. She paused for a moment when she saw Terri's three suitcases next to the bed. She shrugged out of her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. Gratefully, Pam unhooked her bra, then massaged her breasts before sliding the zipper of her skirt down.

She pulled on an outfit of comfortable cotton shorts and a loose tee shirt. Pam jammed her feet into her flip flops then slapped her path to the dining room.

Again, Pam paused for a moment. There was her usual placemat, linen napkin, heavy fork and knife. But to her right was another placemat, another linen napkin and cutlery.

"You, you're eating in here?" Pam asked.

Terri carried in two salad plates. She placed one plate on each placemat. She then kissed Pam on her lips.

"You fired me, you bitch," Terri said. "I don't have to sit in the kitchen like the help."

She gave Pam another kiss then left the dining room. She returned a moment later with two glasses of iced tea.

"Go ahead; dressing's already on it," Terri ordered, taking her seat.

"I uh, I've, no one's ever eaten in here with me," Pam said quietly.

Terri regarded Pam for a long moment, then began eating. She sipped her iced tea and swallowed.

"And?" Terri finally asked.

"I don't know how to do this," Pam admitted.

"Do what?" Terri asked as she speared a cherry tomato.

"Terri, I'm supposed be in charge," Pam shrilled.

"You are," Terri assured her. This is your house. I'm just a guest here. You're in charge Pam. You are still in charge."