Girl Inside

"Why are there toys for him in your closet?" Robert demanded.

"Because he and Angela come visit every now and then," Wendy said easily.

Robert opened the hall closet and found the box of toys.

"Oh, hey, here, here's a big truck," Robert said as he and Dustin scattered the toys on the living room floor. "You like the big truck?"

"No!" Dustin said, but took the truck.

Robert crawled around on the floor with his boy, 'racing' the truck and the bulldozer. When he looked up, Angela was sitting on the edge of the couch, watching them. He tried to smile but couldn't.

"So um, how you been?" he managed to ask.

"Been good," she said easily. "Been staying with Dallas."

"That..." Robert almost said 'Slut' but stopped himself.

"That's good, good you got a friend let you stay," Robert managed and Angela smiled tightly.

"She ain't letting us stay; we paying her two hundred a week," Angela said.

"Why you pay..." Robert said, then stopped.

Why she was paying Dallas two hundred dollars a week, rather than get an apartment of her own was not important.

"Because I'm hoping its temporary," Angela admitted.

"What, Sweetheart, what would it take for it to be temporary?" Robert asked.

"That's a start," Angela said. "Calling me 'sweetheart' instead of 'stupid whore.'"

She kissed Dustin on the top of his head and left father and son.

"Angela Duvalier, you are not paying two hundred dollars a week no more," Wendy snapped, almost angry. "After dinner, you go right back there and you get your stuff. You're moving in here and that's that."

While Wendy and Angela were 'arguing' about Angela's living arrangements, Luther stopped at Michelle's trailer. Terrence, his brother in law was the owner and manager of the trailer park and had pointed out which trailer the 'disgusting old drunk' lived in.

Luther knocked, huddled against the Arctic cold that had blown in overnight. There was no answer and after five minutes, he shrugged and got back into his warm car.

"She didn't answer," he said when his wife answered her phone.

"Well, after we eat, I'll make a little plate for her and you take it to her," his wife said.

After dinner, Luther did return to the trailer park. He knocked several times, then went and made Terrence unlock the woman's trailer.

"Good God, man, it's freezing in here!" Luther exclaimed. "Look! I can see my breath!"

Terrence didn't say anything. The AC/HC man had wanted an extra fifty bucks to come out during Thanksgiving week and Terrence had told him it could wait until Monday.

Luther knocked twice on the doorjamb to the bedroom then entered.

Michelle looked peaceful, almost happy in death.

"Damn, her boy's going take this hard," Luther mused.

"That ug..." Terrence started, then stopped himself.

"Yeah, that ugly kid," Luther snapped. "Ugly or not, that's his momma."

There was no contact information that Luther could find as they waited for the police to come. He called his wife to see if she had any suggestions.

"Let her son have his Thanksgiving," Luther's wife gently said. "The police might know how get in touch with him."

"Good God, it is colder in here than outside," Luther stamped his feet. "You didn't know the heater wasn't working?"

"Uh, no, no, she ain't never said nothing," Terrence lied.

"Yeah she did," Marsha, Terrence's wife, Luther's sister said. "You even come out here and checked it."

Marsha looked around; for a drunkard, Michelle did keep the trailer relatively clean.

"Y'all got a body?" a uniformed police officer asked from the door of the trailer.

Forty minutes later, Luther got into his car and turned the heater on full blast. He still had not fully warmed up by the time he returned to his home.

The Oldenburg Police Department contacted the DeGarde Police Department. The DeGarde Police Department contacted U.L.D. Campus Security. U.L.D. Campus Security contacted Vanessa Lopez, Cyril's Student Advisor. She looked up the information for Samantha W. Duvalier, Cyril's girlfriend.

At Wendy's home, Cyril was lugging his footlocker downstairs from the guest bedroom to the living room.

"But Momma, I got..." Sam laughingly suggested.

"No, no, and no," Wendy snapped. "And go get them sheets off that bed; they need be washed."

A knock at the front door stopped their bickering.

"Afternoon, Ma'am," a DeGarde Police Officer politely said when Wendy opened the front door.

The two officers sat down on the furniture and gently informed Cyril about Michelle's demise. Sam burst into tears and clung to Cyril while the young man just stared, uncomprehending at the two men.

On the Monday after Thanksgiving, Michelle Louise Armstrong was buried next to her sister, Mary Lynne Armstrong Young. The funeral was a nice one; five years earlier, a man had knocked on the doors of all the trailers in the trailer park. Michelle had let the salesman in, filled out the paperwork, and faithfully sent in a money order for eleven dollars and forty eight cents every month.

Chapter 7

Two and a half weeks after Michelle's funeral, the still quite stunned Cyril stepped out of his Physics final exam into a harsh winter wind.

"Baby, over here," he heard and jogged toward the bright pink truck.

"Momma said some guy come by looking for you," Sam said as they drove toward home.

He was still camped out on the couch; Angela and Dustin were still upstairs in the guest room. Truth be known, Dustin was in Sam's room much more than in the guest room.

Sam called her mother and let Wendy know they were done with exams.

"Y'all go on to lunch somewhere," Wendy said. "I been watching Dustin all day and ain't fixed nothing for lunch."

"No, Sam, we are not going to Cowboy's," Cyril said. "Too damned cold for a malt."

So Tommy's Po-Boys got their business. Then they drove home. Wendy grudgingly relinquished Dustin to his big sister and Cyril, then called the man that had stopped by earlier.

David Upjohn pulled his attention away from the buxom blonde that was gyrating, now in just thong and pasties, and signaled to his waitress that he was done with his meal.

"Anything else, Sugar?" Melinda Owens asked, making sure the customer saw her wedding ring and large engagement ring on her left hand.

"Just the check please," David smiled.

He complimented the waitress again on the excellent stuffed pork chop and mashed potatoes and basin gravy.

"Well, glad you liked it," Melinda smiled, grateful that the customer seemed to accept that she was married, therefore, not on the menu.

"Why's this place called Dead End anyway?" he asked when she returned with his charge card and charge slip.

"Street outside used to dead end right in front of here," she said. "Original owner trashed his car when the road suddenly ran out; decided he'd stick around and opened this bar."

"Don't that just make sense?" David chuckled, dropped a five into the tip jar for the blonde just as 'Little Red Corvette' by Prince was dying down, and walked into the bright winter sunlight.

Dustin got fussy when he no longer had Cyril's attention and fussed even more when Sam suggested it might be nap time.

"Man, need me a nap after them pork chops; you ever get a chance to, you got to try that Dead End place," David said as he and Cyril sat at Wendy's table.

"Uh, don't think so," Sam said defensively.

"Oops," David chuckled, then grew serious.

"They're thinking of bringing up charges against Terrence Johnson," David informed Cyril.

"Who?" Cyril asked. "Oh, oh, wait, guy ran the trailer park, right?"

"Right," David agreed.

"So, y'all need him testify?" Sam asked, holding onto Cyril's hand.

David outlined his plan to sue Terrence Johnson and Terrence's insurance company for negligence.

"Why you're supposed carry liability insurance in the first place," David said.

"And how much you keeping?" Wendy asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Standard thirty three and a third," David said.

The insurance company settled almost immediately and David was true to his word; he only kept one third of the two hundred thousand dollar settlement.

Luther testified against his brother in law at both the criminal and the civil trials. As he told both Terrence and Terrence's lawyer, he had put his hand on a Bible and had sworn to God that he would tell the truth.

"Mr. Upjohn," Cyril said into the telephone.

"Man, told you, call me David, huh?" David said.

"David, I don't need that trailer park," Cyril said.

"Know what? I do," David decided.

Opportunistic lawyer or not, David did give Cyril fair market value for his trailer park and the twelve trailers still remaining on the plot of land.

"Miss Wendy, what you think I ought to do with all this money?" Cyril asked as they sat at her table eating toaster waffles.

Even though he did have a dorm room at Sharp Shire Dormitory, Cyril was still at Sam's house nearly every day.

"First thing, you buy me a new couch," she joked.

"One long enough fit me?" Cyril smiled as Sam rubbed his thigh underneath the table.

"Seriously, you planning on staying here?" Wendy asked.

"You ain't throwing him out, huh?" Sam asked, worried.

"No, no, not here my house, here in DeGarde," Wendy corrected.

"Well, yes ma'am," Cyril smiled as Sam squeezed his hand. "Kind of like it here."

"Better love it here," Sam hissed, then kissed his cheek.

"Love it here," Cyril amended.

"Then why you don't get you a little place?" Wendy suggested. "Property keeps going up around here; you decide in say, four, five years you want leave, you probably got you a nice little nest egg you sitting on."

Carmen Davis showed the cute couple a few small bungalows. At first, she'd been a little Leary; they seemed quite young. But Cyril assured the mature woman that he did indeed have the wherewithal to purchase a home.

The fourth one she showed them was out in Baylor Lake and Sam immediately fell in love with the pink bathtub in the master bedroom.

"Look, Sweetheart, it's even a Jacuzzi!" she enthused.

Then she snuggled up against him.

"And it's big enough both of us," she whispered.

"Owner's wife died, that plane crash right there in Jazz Beach," Carmen said, pointing in the general direction of the Gulf of Mexico. "So, just wants to make a quick sell and..."

"He's wanting eighty?" Cyril asked. "Offer him eighty three we can move in right away."

"We?" Sam asked, tears of happiness beginning to fill her eyes.

"We," Cyril affirmed.

He playfully pinched her on her buttock.

"Way out here? Remember? I don't know how to drive," he joked.

"Oh, and the back yard's fenced in," Cyril observed as Carmen used her cell phone to send Cyril's offer to the owner.

"Uh huh," Sam said, peering into the back yard.

"So Dustin can come visit and he can play; think we ought to get a swing set?" Cyril continued.

Sam abruptly walked to the hall bathroom and closed the door.

"Momma, I'm so in love with him," Sam sniffled into her phone when her mother answered her call.

"Write me a check for ten percent and you can move in tonight," Carmen said a moment later.

The sales girl at O'Neil's Furniture in Elgee delighted in the cute little red head and her tall boyfriend that simply said 'yes dear' whenever she pointed to something she liked.

The young sales girl smiled at the two older salesmen that had sneered when the two teenagers walked in.

"And we can have this all delivered tomorrow," the girl said as she ran Cyril's Debit card.

"That would be great," Sam said. "Come on, Sweetheart; we need to get some sheets for that bed.

"Remember, it's a pillow top," the sales girl smiled. Not all fitted sheets can accommodate a pillow top."

"Thanks," Sam said as she dragged the slightly befuddled Cyril to her truck.

"This is Robert," Sam's father's harsh voice said when Sam called his office.

"Hi Daddy," Sam said.

"Oh, hey Sammy, uh, Sam, didn't recognize the number," Robert said, almost cheerfully.

He was still having a hard time accepting the fact that his son was really his daughter. But the counselor, Angela, and Wendy had pointed out, whether he accepted it or not, Sam was going to be Sam. And, even though he had a hard time accepting his son's decision, Robert did truly love his child.

"Daddy, remember when you taught me how to drive?" Sam asked.

"Well, yeah, God, you were a natural at it," Robert agreed.

"You teach Cyril? Please?" Sam begged.

Cyril thought he was going to throw up when Sam's father sat him in the driver's seat of the Lexus.

"Just follow a few simple rules and you'll be fine," Robert assured the young man. "Common sense goes a long way in driving, all right?"

Cyril listened carefully, then put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space. They drove around the parking lot of U.L.D. campus, driving around for nearly three hours, until Robert urged Cyril to drive from U.L.D. campus to the new house in Baylor Lake.

"Doing good, doing good," Robert said.

"So, um, Miss Angela said y'all are doing real good at that counseling?" Cyril ventured.

"Yeah," Robert grudgingly agreed. "And believe me, she heard what Sam wanted me do with you? Said I better do it."

He playfully slapped the young man on his shoulder.

"You're doing good, you're doing good," he said. "Oh, hey, that's your house?"

"Yes sir," Cyril said and pulled into the driveway.

He parked the Lexus behind Sam's truck then got out.

Robert looked around the house, looked at the furniture, and looked at the back yard.

The whole time he walked around, Sam nervously followed, desperate for her father's approval.

"Well, Sweetheart, looks like y'all got you a nice little place here," Robert agreed and hugged both Cyril and Sam.

Cyril took the driving test and passed. His Christmas present to himself was a 2007 Nissan Maxima.

The first night he had it, Sam made him get into the back seat so they could fuck.

"Sam!" he hissed, scandalized. "We're right here! In our carport! Suppose the neighbors see us?"

"Should have got tinted windows yeah," she laughed as she pulled his pants down. "Ooh, someone's got on his 'Mr. Grinch' boxers!"

**

He'd told Sam his Christmas present to himself was the Nissan Maxima. Cyril's real Christmas present to himself was a two carat engagement ring. On Christmas morning, Sam woke him up with a blow job, then they did sixty nine. After she sucked him hard again, Sam straddled him and slid Cyril's hard cock into her hole.

After church, they went to Wendy's house. Angela and Dustin were again living with Robert, but Robert, Angela, and Dustin came to Wendy's house so Dustin could unwrap his Santa Claus gifts.

"Nice car you got there," Robert complimented. "Thank God it's not pink, huh?"

"Not yet," Sam said.

"Not ever," Cyril agreed with Robert.

Then Dustin dove into the pile of gifts under the tree. In just moments, the pile had been reduced to rubble.

In front of Sam's family, Cyril got down on one knee, amidst the crumpled wrapping papers and monster trucks and bulldozers and football stuff.

"What? What's happening?" Sam asked. "Is this real?"

"I uh, I don't even know if this is legal, but..." Cyril smiled.

The End.

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment. I do thank you for reading my stories.

I also thank those that take the time to rate my stories and those that take the time to leave critiques, good, bad, or indifferent.

I do not, however, read emails. The few that I had read in the past were so hateful that I simply delete them without even bothering to open them.

Have a slippery and wet day.