Choices & Decisions Ch. 02

Once inside, Court pulled Ash to her and kissed her, sucking the hot chocolate off of Ash's tongue.

"And if I asked you to marry me, would you become Ashley Vanderkin?" Court asked after releasing Ash's tongue.

"Thought you'd want to be Court Verdot," Ash smiled and kissed her again.

"He hasn't asked me or you, but I am," Court blurted out.

At the Vanderkin home, Helen smiled when she heard the doorbell give its faint chiming wheeze. The smile froze as she opened the door to see a large black man standing in the doorway, uncovered bald head gleaming.

"Hi, Cole Harrison, here pick up Trevor," the man smiled. "Yeah, I can tell you his momma; got that red hair, huh?"

"Uh yeah, yeah, come on in; he's just about ready," Helen stammered, coloring brightly.

Trevor came into the living room, pulling his coat on over his U.L.D. jersey.

"Mom, this is Cole Harrison; he's the Defensive Coordinator," Trevor made the introductions.

"All right, my man, ready see the Storm kick some U.C.K. butt?" Cole asked jovially.

"Some what?" Helen asked.

"University of Central Kansas," Cole said. "Their mascon's this beautiful twenty point buck. Why? Because you can't spell 'Buck' without U C K."

He shrugged and leaned a little closer to Helen while Trevor located his cane.

"They uh, they yell some other stuff during the game; all ends with U C K," Cole chuckled. "Believe me, it can get kind of raunchy; especially if they winning."

"Oh I can imagine," Helen giggled lightly, leaning close to the man.

As soon as she shut the door behind them, Helen clamped her thighs together.

"I can think of a few things with U C K right now," she admitted.

"Clay's car is bigger," Trevor said and Cole laughed.

"Clay's car is bigger than my car, my truck, my boat and my house," Cole agreed. "That is one big car!"

Cole had to admit, he had thought that he would have to do a lot to help the totally blind child, but Trevor had learned well under Clay Verdot's tutelage.

"Aw yeah, here's our boy," Chauncey Dempest laughed and accepted his equipment from Trevor.

"Now we got to check them balls," Trevor reminded Cole.

The pair were the last to leave the locker room, trotting after the athletes out to thunderous screams and cheers from their fans.

Trevor found his place on the bench and Cole joined the other coaches.

The Bucks won the coin toss and elected to receive and the game was under way.

Late in the second quarter, the Storm was ahead, twenty one to three.

"Oh, God, I don't..." Coach Schaeffer said, bent over, threw up, and then collapsed.

The two men of the medical staff rolled the man over then hurriedly waved for the paramedics to back the ambulance up.

"Massive heart attack," Dr. Atwell said to Ed Baggett, the Athletic Director.

"Harrison!" Ed called out and the worried looking man ran over.

"You are the new head coach," Ed said.

"Yes sir," Cole said, waved to the official that they were ready to resume play.

The Bucks quarterback tossed a lofting spiral out and their wide receiver was running at full speed when he plowed directly into Lawrence Hill, their free safety. Their helmets slammed into each other and both boys fell to the ground, unconscious

The second ambulance backed up, loaded both boys and screamed away.

Two more plays and the Bucks punted. Monroe fielded it at the eighteen yard line and got it to the twenty one yard line before being buried.

He jumped up and immediately began pushing at their left cornerback.

"Mother fucker's down there punching on me!" he complained bitterly to Cole when the man angrily waved him over.

"And getting your ass thrown out of here is just what he wants, too," Cole said.

"Seventy nine slant left," Cole said to Arville. "Then fifty eight Delta, but pitch it to Trenton and let him pitch it to Dempest, hear? Then thirteen R Flat; that ought to fuck them up."

"Arville ran out, called the audible but before the ball was snapped, the left cornerback came across, picked Arville up and brought the boy to the ground, hard.

Arville lay, immobile; he couldn't feel anything. He looked into the faces of his worried teammates and tried to smile but it just looked like a grimace.

Leonard Baylor, the head coach of the U.C.K. Bucks called the cornerback over. He glared at the smirking boy.

"Go in the locker room and take that uniform off, boy, you do not play for the Bucks," he screamed at the boy.

At the apartment, Ash had made Court turn on the game; she knew Clay would want to know how the game was. The two girls hugged each other and sobbed as the camera froze on Arville's sweating, immobile face.

"Oh God, why don't they do something?" Court asked Ash.

At the stadium, there were hushed murmurs among the fans and the players.

Finally, an ambulance did scream onto the field and the fans watched in silence as Arville was loaded onto the vehicle.

Leonard Baylor ran out onto the field, waving Cole Harrison over.

"Threw that boy off my team," he said to Cole and the Storm football players that huddled around. "We do not play football like that and I do not want any boy on my team plays football like that."

"Yes sir," Cole said, shook the man's offered hand and nodded to the worried looking officials.

Cole grabbed Chip Stillman, easily lifting the boy with one hand.

"Son you better play the game of your life, hear?" he ordered. "Now, seventy nine slant left, then fifty eight Delta, then thirteen R Flat, got it?"

"Seventy nine?" Chip asked. "I don't have the arm strength for seventy nine!"

"Better get it," Cole ordered.

Chip called the audible, then hurled the ball with all his might. Thankfully, Monroe knew Chips limitations and stopped short and caught the ball then dove for the end zone.

At half-time, Ed Baggett called St. Elizabeth Trauma Center to get updates.

Walking heavily into the locker room, Ed called for everyone's attention.

"Coach Schaeffer did not make it," he somberly told the people in the locker room.

"Uh, so, hey guys? Uh, how about we make this win for him, huh?" Cole said after a long moment of silence.

'And how about we make this win for you, huh?" Ed asked. "Each and every one of you has worked hard and it shows. Even your equipment manager can see that, and that's with his sunglasses on."

"Yeah," Trevor agreed, which got a forced laugh from everyone.

The final score was thirty one to ten, and, although most of the players were still very upset about Arville's injuries, Cole made them shake hands with the Bucks players.

"Good luck if Myndee loses," Leonard Baylor said, shaking Cole's hand.

It was close to four thirty by the time Cole brought Trevor home. Helen greeted them at the door.

"I uh, you wouldn't, how about some coffee?" Helen stammered.

"Coffee sounds good about right now," Cole admitted.

"I mean, Courtney, that's my daughter, Courtney says I can't make coffee worth a damn, but..." Helen blabbed, nervous.

"Ma'am, unless it's like water, it'll be fine," Cole assured her.

"Water? No, no, Courtney says you can paint walls with it," Helen laughed nervously.

The pot finished gurgling and Helen poured two mugs.

"Um, what you take in yours?" Helen asked.

"Cream," Cole said. "Used to take cream and sugar but when I quit smoking it messed my taste buds up and now sugar's way too sweet for me."

The lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. They could hear Trevor playing a video game on his computer.

"Oh who the hell am I kidding?" Helen finally blurted out.

"Huh?" Cole asked.

"I mean, handsome man like you, working around all them college girls," Helen said. "Like you'd even be interested in an old woman like me?"

"I'm sitting here in your kitchen, drinking what has got to be the worst coffee I've ever had," Cole smiled. "I'd say I'm pretty interested in you."

"Think my coffee's bad? Ought to have my cooking," Hellen admitted.

"Can't wait," Cole laughed.

Chapter 12

At the Jackson Arms Hotel in Houston, Texas, Clay smiled as he talked with his girlfriends.

"And tell him we're getting married," Court urged, rubbing ash's belly as Ash told Clay about the Mexican hot chocolate they'd had at Sarah and April's apartment earlier that day.

"Oh, and Court's got this crazy idea we're getting married, like Sarah and April," Ash laughed.

"It's not crazy," Court defended as she wiggled her finger in Ash's exposed navel.

"So who's wearing the tuxedo?" Clay laughed.

"Probably Court but you got to be my maid of honor," Ash said, pushing Court's hand away from her ticklish belly.

"I would love to be your maid of honor," Clay laughed, which got him a strange look from Terry Bennet, his roommate for the weekend seminar.

"But don't worry; there'll always be room in our bed for you," Court declared, taking the phone away from Ash.

"All right, love you, see you, damn, I get back on Monday," Clay said and ended the call.

Terry smiled and pretended to be interested in Clay's personal life but was quite overwhelmed as he looked through the handbook Pilot Petroleum Exploration and Development, Incorporated had given to them to study.

"You uh, you ain't..." he asked, holding up the handbook as Clay prepared to leave the room to look for a place to have an early supper.

"It's on-line; I read it as soon as I applied for the job," Clay replied. "You think Spuds is a decent place to eat or what?"

Terry scowled at Clay's back; there was already murmurs of Clay being offered a position at either their Lowridge office, or Corporate Headquarters, here in Houston. Instead of having to kiss their collective asses when he registered, the three executives had been kissing Clay's ass.

And if Clay noticed the fawning reception he'd been given, he at least had the good graces not to show it. Clay Verdot took notes, asked questions, and clarified points throughout the seminar.

Back at their apartment, Ash cuddled with Courtney on the couch, breasts mashed into Court's back while they watched a romantic comedy on the television.

"Aaahh!" the both squealed and laughed as the female's lead's best friend revealed to the female lead that she was gay and put a hot lip lock on the female lead.

"You um, how you think they do it? Courtney asked after a few moments.

"How who does what?" Ash asked, softly rubbing Court's belly.

"How they, um, how they make love?" Court asked.

"What? Who?" Ash asked, giving an affectionate squeeze to Court.

"April and Sarah, how you think they..." Court asked.

"God, Court, I don't know," Ash smiled. "I mean, I've never asked them."

"April would tell you," Court said.

"Boy, if that isn't the truth!" Ash giggled.

Court wiggled around and faced Ash and they kissed softly.

"Court, I guess they do it just like you and me do," Ash said an combed Court's long hair back.

"Then no wonder they're getting married," Court said. "I love the way we..."

On the television, the female lead's boss, who was trying to seduce, entrap the female lead into a sexual relationship let loose with a string of profanities so Court wiggled back around to watch the movie.

"Yeah, I love it too," Ash agreed and gave Court another affectionate squeeze.

While Court and Ash were laughing at the female lead's boss trying to hit on the lesbian best friend, Helen was in her bedroom, making love with Cole Harrison. She'd sent Trevor next door, to Doug's house, give her some 'alone time' with the large African-American.

It was long, it was dark, it was fat, and it was as smooth as his bald head as he pushed his cock into her dripping pussy.

Just looking between her splayed legs, watching the dark instrument push into her bright red curls was enough to make Helen scream in orgasm.

"Aw fuck me, you fuck me with that big black dick," she screamed and shuddered in orgasm.

"Fuck yeah," Cole groaned, pushing into the tight wet slit.

She grabbed him and pulled him down to shove her tongue into his mouth, groaning and moaning in delight.

She grunted in yet another orgasm as he roughly, almost cruelly twisted her fat nipples. Her plump legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him all the way into her stretched, raw pussy.

"Aw, yeah, aw mother fucker," he groaned, feeling himself balls deep in her hot pussy.

By the time he emptied his balls into her, Helen Vanderkin was just a drooling mess. But she was quick to revive and tried to revive him with her mouth, even wrapping her pale freckled breasts around his cock and stroking it a few times.

Doggy style gave him the opportunity to finger her tight ass while his cock slapped in and out of her stretched, slimy pussy.

Finally, with a groan, he pulled his soft cock out of her, slightly slapped her pudgy ass cheeks with his large hand, and started looking for his clothes.

"You uh, um, how about something to eat?" she asked.

He stopped and smiled at her.

"I was fixing ask you the same thing," he said. "Got to run by my house, let Samson and Delilah out; that's my two pit bulls, feed them, then, you like Mexican? Casa Ole?"

"Sure but we're going to have to take two boys with us," Helen said and nodded grimly as she heard the front door slam.

"That's no problem," Cole said.

Helen also dressed then they grabbed Doug and Trevor as the two boys were starting up Trevor's computer.

Samson and Delilah terrified both Helen and Doug, but Trevor loved them the moment he petted them and they seemed to sense this and both gave the blind boy huge licks.

"That's enough kissing y'all get on out there and go potty," Cole ordered and both dogs raced out to the back yard.

"Aw, Trevor, he's got a swimming pool out there!" Doug enthused.

"Swimming? Too cold for that," Trevor said.

"Not now, dummy, when it gets hot again," Doug said.

Cole showed Trevor where the dog food canister was, and where the dog bowls were and both Samson and Delilah whined and whimpered as they waited for their dinner.

"Why do you have those two animals?" Helen asked when they were all back in Cole's car.

"Moved in here, I'm the only n*gger on this street, yeah, I hate that word too, but that's what they were calling me, house got vandalized three times, police ain't done shit about it," Cole said easily. "Get them two beasts, ain't nobody says nothing to me, house gets left alone."

Trevor was excited about eating at Casa Ole; they actually had a Braille menu for him to read. Doug loved it because of the chips and salsa; he could make a whole meal out of the chips and salsa alone.

"Now, when our food comes, y'all ain't going get all freaked out we pray, huh?" Cole asked.

Helen and Trevor had no objections. If Doug had any objections, the fact that Cole was easily four times his size stilled those objections.

While Trevor and Doug plowed through the chips and salsa, while Ash and Court nibbled through a simple humus and salad wrap while watching yet another romantic comedy, Clay was in the hotel's bar, enjoying an ice cold beer and watching Terry and a few other of the PPEDI crew try their luck with the women in the bar.

"You having a good time?" a woman in her early forties asked, taking the stool next to him.

"Yes ma'am, I am," Clay agreed.

"So, want to tell me a little about yourself?" the woman asked and pulled a cigarette out of her purse.

"Sure; I'm flat broke; this beer's on the company tab, and my grandmother? The only one in my family ever said she loves me? Died of lung cancer so I really hate smokers," Clay said and got to his feet. "But you have a nice evening, okay?"

He was nearly asleep with a drunk, irate Terry staggered back into the room.

"Had try four doors before key finally opened this one," he slurred. "Hey! There he is! The golden boy!"

Clay ignored him, pretending to be asleep. Terry muttered more insults about Clay, about PPEDI, about the class of women the hotel bar attracted.

Then he found an adult movie on the television and watched it. Clay cracked an eye open and smirked as two women and one man had sex.

"That's not how it goes," he wanted to say as the three participants performed for the camera.

It was obvious, there was no love, there was no affection, and there was no tenderness between the three participants. None of the three looked as if they were even enjoying the sex; they certainly did not seem to care if the others were enjoying the sex.

The following morning, Terry was quite hung over and in his hung over state of mind, was quite insulting to Clay, to PPEDI, in particular the way PPEDI conducted these seminars and in their preferential treatment of Clayton Verdot.

Clay let all of Terry's comments roll off him; it just wasn't worth getting upset about. He finished getting dressed while Terry was still trying to figure out how to shave and drink the motel coffee at the same time.

"Hey, there he is; Clay! Come here," Dennis Stills, one of the vice presidents in charge of territorial developments waved Clay over as Clay entered the hotel's dining room.

"Good morning," Clay smiled and did take a seat when Jack White, another vice president nodded to a vacant chair.

"Jack here's saying we need to look at Somalia; we're getting plenty out of Nigeria, but who knows?" Dennis said.

"First thing you would need to do is determine who actually owns the land rights; the Somalia government will, of course, say that they do, but this war lord or that war lord will claim that they actually own that land," Clay said.

The waitress filled Clay's coffee cup and Clay ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, but only if it was real bacon and not turkey or soy bacon, raisin toast and orange juice.

"Sir, this is Texas," the waitress smiled. "I'd be shot I tried to serve any of that turkey bacon."

"Okay, land disputes out of the way," an older man drawled. "What do you think?"

"Honestly? Labor costs would be considerably lower, but then we do have the costs of transporting the crude; guarding the crew, guarding the work sites. There's developments in North Dakota, we're still pumping in Wyoming," Clay said and smiled up at the waitress as she put a plate down in front of him. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Welcome," she smiled and refilled the coffee cups around the table.

"So what you're saying is..." the older man asked.

"I'm saying, all things being equal, before switching from Nigerian oil reserves to Somalia, I'd concentrate on domestic," Clay said and smiled as he ate a breakfast that Ash would have been loath to serve him. "The supply routes are already established; make use of them."

"Damn, man, could have waited on me, huh?" Terry snarled at Clay, taking another vacant seat.

"Uh, Terry? Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but this is 'invitation only' seating," Dennis said quietly.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry," Clay said.

"And you were invited," Jack whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh, of course it is," Terry said loudly and slammed over to another table.

"A shame," Ray Greene, another executive shook his head as Terry's voice carried. "Looked good on paper too."

The men chatted, veering from oil fields to politics, to sports.

"As long as Jerry Jones thinks he's going to tell them what to do, the Cowboys are not, I repeat, not going to the Super Bowl. Why hire a coaching staff, if you're not going to let them coach?" Clay argued.

The older man laughed and nodded at Dennis.

"Son, I've been saying that for the last five years," the man said and nodded again to Dennis and got to his feet.

"And that's why I hire the best coaching staff," he continued, pulled out his wallet and laid two one hundred dollar bills onto the check the waitress had put on the table.

"I knew that was Norman James," Clay whispered to Jack who merely smiled and nodded his head.

"I'll bring the change right back," the waitress said.