Finding A Fresh Violet

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Dennis Dumas fought hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he wished Babette Babineaux a good night. He double-checked the alarm, then locked the front door of DeGarde National Bank then hurried to his car.

"Damned ignorant bitch," Dennis thought, and then chided himself for having such ugly thoughts about the bubble-headed teller.

But because of her carelessness, he would be late making the coffee for The Sundowner's Group and he could already hear the ribbing he'd take.

Dennis and Marjory Benoit had started The Sundowner's Group of Alcoholics Anonymous roughly four months ago, both agreeing that, by the time they got home, got changed into comfortable clothing, got their dinner, it was hard to make themselves get back out to go to an eight o'clock AA meeting. The Fifth Tradition Group, however, was unwilling to change their meeting time from eight o'clock, so, as Dennis's sponsor, Mitch Redmann suggested, they took their resentment and a coffee pot and started their own group.

At first, the seven o'clock meeting time met with some resistance, but more and more people were seeing that being finished with their AA meeting at eight gave them more time to fellowship, or to go grab a bite, or just get home and unwind.

The Baylor Lake Baptist Church gladly rented them a room in their meeting hall for twenty five a week, or roughly twelve dollars and fifty cents a meeting. There had been more than one time when Dennis, who chaired the Tuesday night meetings, or Marjory, who chaired the Thursday night meetings had to pass the baskets twice to get that week's rent, but again, it was picking up in attendance.

"Hey young feller, thought you might have forgotten about us poor miserable old drunks," Mitch smiled when Dennis pulled up.

"Teller was a thousand off of her tally," Dennis said as the two exchanged a quick hug. "Finally found it; she'd sold a five hundred dollar Cashier's check and..."

"Posted it in the debit ledger instead of the credit ledger," Mitch guessed as he grabbed the large urn they'd need for the coffee.

"Have I told you this story before?" Dennis asked.

"Funny thing about sobriety," Mitch smiled as he filled the urn with water. "Longer you go without a drink, more some of them brain cells start working again. Can't wait until you find out for yourself."

"Screw you too, Mitch, screw you too," Dennis smiled as he put the laminated 'How It Works' and 'The Twelve Traditions' out.

"Now my feelings are deeply hurt," Mitch said.

"Stick around; your feelings will change in just a minute," Marjory said as she sniffed the air. "Damn it; coffee's not ready yet?"

"Teller screwed up..." Dennis started but Marjory was busy helping Mitch while flirting with the gray headed man.

By the time the next member came in, though, the coffee was ready.

"Mitch, there is nothing I love more than a good cup of coffee," Marjory said as she sat next to the man.

"Well, thank you," Mitch smiled as she shifted in the hard plastic chairs the church provided for them.

"But what is this?" Marjory asked and Dennis and David laughed

"Cruel cruel woman, I swear," Mitch smiled.

After the meeting, after Mitch and Marjory had helped him clean up the meeting room and lock up their coffee urn and other supplies, Dennis looked across the street at Chuck, a fairly new restaurant.

"Any of y'all ever eat there?" Dennis asked as David, Paul and Carter were arguing about either Backyard's Barbeque or Jade Garden for dinner.

"No, you?" David asked, squinting as if he was just now noticing that there was a restaurant there.

"No, but Backyard's is so damned noisy; think they'd ever heard of putting carpet in, huh?" Dennis said.

"And that bitch at Jade Garden's always in a bad mood," Paul agreed. "'What you want, huh? No separate check. Too much work! You ready you order, huh?'"

Dennis smiled as his friend imitated the surly waitress at Jade Garden Chinese restaurant.

"There's always Casa Ole," Carter offered.

"Ah yes, nothing like that good old 'fresh out of the microwave' Mexican food, huh?" David scoffed.

"Well, while y'all stand around out here attracting mosquitos, I'm going to see if they're any good," Dennis said and started across Highway 19.

"Dude, if they suck..." David said, trotting after Dennis.

"Yeah, yeah, put it on your next fourth step, huh?" Dennis laughed.

"Y'all sit anywhere," a pudgy strawberry blonde girl smiled as the four men trooped in. "Be right with y'all, okay?"

They selected a table near the plate glass window so they could keep an eye on their cars in the church's parking lot.

"Hi, welcome to Chuck," the girl said, passing out four single sheet laminated menus. "As you can see at the top of your menus, it's called 'Chuck' because all of our hamburgers are made from one hundred percent real ground chuck. We use a...."

"Oh, I thought maybe the 'Up' had fallen off your sign out front," Paul said.

The girl looked at him, and then continued her spiel.

"We use a cast iron grill at five hundred degrees..." she continued.

"Not six hundred degrees?" Paul said. "That's it; I'm out of here."

"Pay no attention to him; none of us do," Dennis smiled and the girl smiled at him.

"The heat seals in the natural juiciness of the one hundred percent chuck and the cast iron ensures that the meat is cooked uniformly; can I get y'all anything to drink?" the girl concluded.

"Coke if y'all got it, Coke. Not Pepsi," Paul said.

"Oh, and let me guess; separate checks," the girl said, writing down 'Coke' for Paul.

"Yes ma'am, please," Dennis said to the attractive young lady.

"And what you want?" she asked, looking into his hazel eyes.

"Ice water for me, please," Dennis said.

"You wuss," David accused.

"What? I like water, just good old plain water," Dennis defended.

"He never even drinks coffee; who ever heard of an alcoholic doesn't drink coffee?" David said to the girl.

"You're an alcoholic?" the girl asked, surprised.

"Yes ma'am, coming up on four years without a drink," Dennis smiled.

"Oh, good for you!" the girl praised, putting a hand on his broad shoulder.

"I just picked up my seven year chip," Paul said, pulling the heavy medallion out of his pocket.

"That's good," she praised but didn't touch his shoulder.

"Y'all got root beer?" Carter asked. "I love root beer. One time, when I was a kid..."

"Root beer, and for you?" the girl asked David.

"Diet Coke for me," David said.

"Be right back," she said and sauntered away.

"She's mine, hear?" Paul demanded. "I saw her first."

"Good God, Paul, she's just a kid, huh?" Dennis admonished.

"And we all know you're ancient," David said. "I can't believe DeGarde even lets people as old as you work there; isn't there some kind of law against senior citizens having to work like that?"

"I'm thirty eight and you're only one month and ten days younger than me, bitch," Dennis elbowed the man.

"And here we go," the girl said, putting Dennis' water down first. "And Diet Coke, and root beer and..."

"How you know this is Coke and not his nasty ass Diet Coke?" Paul asked.

"Put a straw in yours," the girl said.

"And spit in it," David joked.

"He wasn't supposed to know about that," the girl said. "Now, y'all know what y'all want or y'all need a few more minutes?"

"You know what? This 'Tropical Chuck' sounds like a winner to me," Dennis said.

"Quarter pound, half pound or full pound?" the girl asked.

"Pineapple slice, fiery Island sauce..." Paul read aloud from the menu. "Now I know you're gay."

"Half a pound and the sweet potato fries with that," Dennis said and eyed the girl's name tag. "Violet, huh? God, now that's a name you hardly ever hear anymore."

"Last name's 'Breaux' and there's like what? A million Breaux's running around here so my momma wanted me to have a kind of unique name," the girl smiled.

""And it suits you," Dennis smiled.

"Homo," Paul loudly whispered.

"And you, Mister Funny Man?" Violet asked, giving Paul a hard glare.

"Now I'm afraid to order anything," Paul joked, flirting with the girl.

Carter took a long time but finally decided on just the Original Chuck.

"Dude, now that is a regal ass; I'd love to just bury my face in that and go 'Brrrrp!'" Paul whispered as they watched Violet's sizable ass wiggle away in her skin tight blue jeans.

"Line starts behind me," David agreed.

"I mean, she's a little too chubby for me, but hey you like them like that, right?" Paul said.

"Wow, we are some spiritual giants in here, huh?" Dennis teased.

"That other girl hasn't even looked up from her phone the whole time we been here," Paul commented, nodding toward an Asian girl that read and responded to text messages on her phone.

"Yeah, she's the manager," Dennis said.

"How you know that?" David asked.

"Because that's all my manager ever does is sit at her desk and text all day long," Dennis said.

"And here we go, Tropical," Violet said, serving Dennis first. "South of the Border, Original..."

"She's serving you first because she knows old people take much longer to gum their food," Paul teased Dennis.

"Did you hear that, David? Kind of sounded like an anal echo, didn't it?" Dennis said.

"Damn, man, that South of the Border looks good," Paul said.

"I kind of like the way that looks," David agreed, nodding towards Paul's Campfire Chuck.

The four men joined hands, said a quick prayer of gratitude, and then started the feeding frenzy.

"So how was it?" Violet asked Dennis as he swallowed the last of his sweet potato fries.

"Eh, it was all right," Dennis shrugged.

"All right?" Violet squealed. "All right? I slaved over that hot stove all day for you and all you can say is 'it's all right?'"

"But I'm willing to come back and give you another chance," Dennis smiled and she giggled.

"What's the deal with 'Fast Fingers' over there?" Paul asked as he dredged his French fries through his ketchup.

"Huh? Oh, you mean my manager?" Violet asked, nodding toward the Asian girl that still stood, leaning against the counter, sending another text message.

"Ha! What'd I tell you? Huh?" Dennis laughed.

He smiled at Violet.

"I told him that was the manager; that's all my manager does is sit and text.

Violet looked at Dennis's suit and tie, then back at his eyes.

"And what you do?" she asked him.

"I'm a shift supervisor at St. Elizabeth Public Utilities," Paul offered.

"Database management at DeGarde National Bank," Dennis said.

"Need some more water?" she asked, noticing that his glass was low.

"Dude, I am telling you; that girl wants you," Paul said as Violet scurried away to get Dennis more water, and Carter some more root beer.

"And not you," David needled Paul.

"Dude, she's young enough to be my daughter, Dennis shook his head.

"Daughter!" Paul scoffed. "Uh, more like 'Grand' daughter."

"What a prick," Dennis said as Violet scurried back with the glasses.

"Bye," the Asian girl finally acknowledged them when the four men filed toward the door.

"Yeah, she wants you too," David joked as they gathered around their vehicles. "Saw the way she almost stopped in mid text?"

"Go home and give Emily a kiss for me, huh?" Dennis laughed, shaking the man's hand.

After the Thursday night AA meeting, the four decided to go to Jade Garden; Marjory and Jamie, a newcomer decided to join them.

"How many?" the ill-tempered waitress shrilled at them as they gathered in the foyer.

"Six, little Miss Sunshine," Paul snapped back at her.

"No separate check," she immediately said.

"Why not? If we were all at separate tables, you'd have to do separate checks," Marjory asked her, smiling pleasantly.

"Too much work," the woman yelled.

"God, why y'all come here?" Jamie asked timidly.

"Food's great even if her attitude sucks," David said.

"Get anything but the seafood," Paul suggested.

"Now, Honey, we pray when our food gets here," Marjory told the girl. "I know you said you're not sure if there is a God or not but..."

"What do you say when someone sneezes?" Carter asked.

"Keep your germs to yourself!" Jamie giggled and Carter giggled as well.

The next Tuesday night happened to be the thirty first of the month and Dennis had to do the month's end uploads to File Share and OS-Data so Marjory took his Tuesday night meeting.

Thursday night, Paul filled him in on Jamie and Carter's combined relapses.

"Sick seek out sick," Dennis said.

"Yeah, I know but damn it, it just sucks," Paul complained.

"Hey!" Violet called out happily when Dennis, David, Mitch, Paul and Peter walked into Chuck after the meeting.

"Thought you forgot about me," she playfully complained as she handed out the menus.

"Forget you? Impossible!" David declared.

"No, it just took this long for the vomiting to stop," Paul said.

"Water, Coke, Diet Coke; where's Root Beer?" Violet asked.

"Went back out," David said.

"Dude, anonymity, huh?" Dennis chided.

"Shit!" David said, chastised.

"Yeah, the burgers here are real good for a colon cleanse," Paul told Peter.

"Yours will be," Violet threatened.

"Hot damn, I like this girl!" Mitch laughed. "Hey Paul, she's your new sponsor, hear? I just fired you."

"So, how was it this time?" Violet asked, leaning heavily against Dennis as he finished his Reuben Chuck.

"Eh, it was all right," he sighed.

"I hate you," she said. "I slaved over that burger just for you and all you can say..."

"But mine was yummy," Mitch said.

"That's nice," Violet said and slapped Dennis on his shoulder before walking away.

"Dude, I'm telling you, that girl wants you," David said.

"Damn, boy, I'm blind in one eye and can't see out the other and I can see she wants you," Mitch chimed in.

"Guys, whatever, huh?" Dennis said. "She's what? Still in high school, huh?"

"Listen, I know Kimberly just up and walking out fucked you up pretty good, but still..." Mitch whispered.

"Mitch, you have no idea," Dennis agreed.

"Okay, here you go," Violet said and handed Dennis a check then walked away again.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Dennis laughed when he saw the sixty six dollar and seventy two cent total.

"Oh, I thought you said it was on you tonight," Violet said with a straight face as she handed out the five individual checks.

"Violet, you're all right in my book; I don't care what Paul says about you," Mitch laughed.

In the parking lot of the church, after telling the others good night, Mitch and Dennis did an impromptu fifth step.

"Worst fucking thing is, Kimberly has my ass over a barrel," Dennis complained. "She knows if I declare bankruptcy I'll lose my job."

It was the beginning of the 1996 fall semester on the University of Southwestern Louisiana when Paul Dumas met Kimberly Louviere. It was lust at first sight; they had very little else in common. Dennis David Dumas was Catholic and Kimberly was Agnostic. He wore his Dole/Kemp button proudly and Kimberly wore her Clinton/Gore tee shirt. He liked Pearl Jam and she adored The Indigo Girls and Tracy Chapman. He liked beer and was developing a taste for whiskey and she liked pot and wine.

But he liked her thirty six double D breasts and slim, almost boyish hips and she liked his thick seven and seven/eighths inches of cock.

Before midterm exams, Kimberly discovered she was pregnant. The two had a solemn civil ceremony and moved into his mother's house in DeGarde, Louisiana.

Since Kimberly was struggling to even make Cs and Ds in most of her classes and Dennis was maintaining a 4.0 GPA, Kimberly dropped out of school and began working as a cashier at a SpeeDee Oil Change.

Just after Christmas, Kimberly tearfully told Dennis they'd lost the baby.

"I guess you're going to want a divorce now, huh?" she bitterly spat at him.

She pulled on her McDonald's uniform; she never did tell Dennis why she suddenly quit her job at SpeeDee Oil Change and stormed out of the house.

Dennis did what he did best, got out a sheet of paper and tried to figure out the math. Sex was about the only thing keeping them together and even that wasn't the greatest. Kimberly was a straight suck and fuck kind of girl and Dennis wanted a little more excitement. Anal sex was a strict 'NO' for Kimberly. She even refused to shave her thick jungle; wouldn't even entertain the idea.

But he had said he would love, honor, and cherish her until death parted them and he was a man of his word. Or tried to be.

That night, he told Kimberly he really hoped they would try to stay together. She broke down in tears, clinging desperately to him and declared her love for him.

Graduation brought on only a few job opportunities and Dennis took a job at DeGarde National Bank as a teller. By then, Kimberly was on her sixth job and would not even discuss going back to college, even though the University of Louisiana at DeGarde campus had just opened.

But she also never missed an opportunity to blame Dennis for having to drop out of college.

Super Bowl Sunday of 2002 brought Dennis his first DUI. He paid the fines, attended the classes and went to the required twelve AA Meetings and vowed never to do that again.

Mother's Day of 2007 brought Kimberly her first DUI. Even the judge was moved to tears when she tearfully claimed she had realized it would have been her tenth Mother's Day had she not lost her baby.

He was not moved to tears when she showed up in his court less than a year later for her second DUI and a multitude of other charges, including resisting arrest, battery on a police officer, and possession of roughly two ounces of marijuana.

Dennis, who was now the Operations Manager of DeGarde National Bank, had to drive Kimberly to her job as a receptionist for a chiropractor's office (He didn't remember how many jobs she'd had in the twelve years of their marriage) had to drive her to her classes and to her meetings, and, since she made very little as a receptionist, had to pay her fines and legal fees.

Dennis' second DUI came in 2010 and Dennis got a third DUI six months later. By this time, his drinking was daily and even some mornings, Dennis would crack open a beer to still his hands from shaking so he could shave.

Kimberly's marijuana usage was also daily as was her wine drinking; often Dennis would come home from work to find Kimberly already passed out.

Right after his arrest for the third DUI, Kimberly was also arrested for driving on a suspended license and again was found in possession of marijuana.

"Mr. Dumas, my office," Ms. Frentz, Dennis' supervisor snapped.

Dennis rankled mightily under the management of Ms. Kim Frentz. The girl was twenty six years old, had never had any management experience and did not take suggestions or critiques well.

Ms. Frentz hemmed and hawed, crippled by Political Correctness, but the upshot of her babbling and rambling monologue was simple; get help or get packing.

Dennis Dumas checked himself into DeGarde Chemical Dependency Unit for their twenty eight day program and, just like he did with everything else, got out pencil and paper and did the math.

Kimberly did not come visit him for 'Family Day' as she claimed she had no way to get there. Dennis' mother had succumbed to a three pack a day cigarette habit a few years earlier, his brother lived in Atlanta, Georgia, and his sister and her life-partner lived in Seattle, Washington.

"What you thinking?" Dr. Amber Istrey asked Dennis that evening, after everyone else had discussed what having their family members visit had revealed to them.

"I am thinking that this is where alcoholism has taken me," he said as a tear trickled down his cheek. "I'm completely isolated and I have no one to blame but me."