Goal Posts

"Think that'd be just fine," Dick smiled.

He gave Arville Rachael's cell phone number, then turned to leave.

"By the way, how'd you know where to find me?" Arville asked.

"Once a cop, always a cop," Dick smiled.

He turned back around.

"By the way, Rachael asks where you got her number, tell her we ran into each other and you asked for it, all right? Don't tell her I went looking for you," Dick cautioned.

Courtney was waiting for Arville when he came out of his French Literature class.

"Listen, I uh, man, that was stupid of me, I should have, I mean, you can teach me, right?" Courtney said.

"Listen, I kind of um, already made other plans for Thursday," Arville admitted.

"Oh," Courtney said, grimacing as the Asian girl that had flirted so shamelessly earlier also exited the same classroom.

"But you doing anything tomorrow night?" Arville asked, smiling.

"To... No, not really," Courtney quickly said.

"Like Mexican? Then we can go right next door and I can beat you real bad at bowling," Arville smiled.

"Beat... Buddy, in your dreams," Courtney laughed. "Bowling's my game!"

Arville trotted to his pickup truck and dug his cell phone out of the console. He whistled as it was hot from the sun beating down on the dark interior of the cab. He punched in the phone number that Sherriff Dick Davis had given him.

"Hello?" Rachael asked warily; very few people had her cell phone number.

"Hey, is this The Ripper's momma?" Arville asked.

"What? Who is this?" Rachael demanded. "Listen, my step father's a cop so..."

"Hi, this is Arville; we met the other day?" Arville laughed.

"This is, really? This is Arville? How'd you get my number, huh?" Rachael asked, feeling flustered.

"Saw your dad, asked him for it," Arville said, keeping it simple.

Rachael didn't believe him for a minute, but did agree that line dancing sounded like fun and so did eating a few ribs.

"Who was that?" Carmen asked as she came down the stairs.

"That was Arville; you watch Elaine this Thursday? He wants to take me line dancing," Rachael asked.

"I will kill that man, but yes, of course we'll watch Elaine," Carmen agreed as Rachael thundered up the stairs to look at her available outfits.

A moment later, Dick entered, carrying the groceries Carmen had sent him for, two hours earlier.

"You are in HUGE trouble, you hear?" Carmen said, pinching his bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, pulling him into her kitchen.

While Dick was kissing his wife, against her protests, Chip Stillman was already on the field, scowling when Arville jogged out of the locker room.

"You can sit down, Brodt; we got our regular quarterback now," Coach Schaeffer gloated.

Oh, okay," Arville infuriated the man by smiling.

"What an ass hole; we fucking won that game because of you," Jack said to Arville.

"No we didn't," Arville disagreed. "We won because of you, and Monroe, and Chauncey, and Pedro and..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Jack said and slapped Arville on the head before trotting out to the field.

"Eh? No like that, huh? Get slapped don't feel good, huh?" Pedro smirked as Arville rubbed his head.

"No," Arville yelled, grabbing the smaller young man and again putting him over his shoulder. "Feels great! I love it!"

Put me down!" Pedro screamed in rage as Arville twirled him around.

"Brodt, put him down," one of the assistant coaches chuckled. "Not going to do any good, our kicker gets all dizzy."

"Ortega, you're a great kicker, you know that?" Arville said, giving the kicker an affectionate one armed hug when he did put the man back onto the ground.

"And you an ass hole," Pedro grumbled. "But you a good quarterback; better than Cheep."

When Coach Schaeffer finally did allow Arville to practice a few plays, Arville executed them exactly as Coach called them, infuriating the man by smiling widely the entire time he played.

"Please tell me, you get the chance, you're not going to do shit his way," Chauncey asked.

"I'll do what I think is best for the team," Arville quietly agreed.

Chapter 3

Courtney scowled at Trevor's friend Doug as the boy taunted her about her date with Arville.

"Hey Courtney, why don't you fart on him, huh?" Doug said. "That will get rid of him real quick!"

"Hey Doug, go home and tell your momma she wants you," Courtney snapped.

"Shut up, Doug; Arville's cool," Trevor said.

"Yeah, Arville's cool; it's Courtney that's not," Doug agreed.

"Douglas, that's enough," Mrs. Vanderkin said evenly.

"Oh oh, she called you 'Douglas;' you're in trouble now, buddy," Trevor said.

"One word out of you boys and Jesus better have mercy on your souls because I sure won't," Mrs. Vanderkin said when a knock sounded at the door.

Helen Vanderkin could see why Courtney, usually quite indifferent about dates, was so nervous about this date. The tall boy was quite handsome, with long brown hair, soft brown eyes, and wide smile. He was dressed neatly and didn't have any visible tattoos, scruffy facial hair, or piercings. She thought the hair was a little too long, but if that was his only fault, she could learn to live with it.

He was also very polite to her and was attentive to Trevor and Trevor's friend Doug.

"He's such a pain in the ass," Courtney said when they left the small house.

"Who? Doug?" Arville asked as he held the door of his truck open for her.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Uh huh, he's obviously got a real bad crush on you," Arville said.

Courtney looked back at the house, mouth open in surprise. She had never considered that possibility.

"But who could blame him?" Arville asked when he started the truck. "Got that beautiful hair, cute freckles, pretty brown eyes and those big old..."

"Hey!" Courtney screeched, putting a defensive arm across her thirty six E 7breasts.

"...smiles; hell, boy would have to be crazy not to have a crush on you," Arville finished and smiled as Courtney blushed hotly, arm still across her chest.

"Uh huh," Courtney couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"Lot of people like that Casa Ole; I'm not all that crazy about it," Arville said as he pulled up to Manny's in Bender, Louisiana. "Me? I grew up eating this stuff. First time I had Taco Bell? I thought there was something wrong with my taco; it just didn't taste right."

"Yeah, love this place too," Courtney agreed.

At five foot six, Courtney was usually the same height or just slightly shorter than most of the Cajuns in and around DeGarde, Louisiana. Arville, she realized, was quite a bit taller than she was as he opened the restaurant door and she easily walked underneath his outstretched arm.

"Ola, two?" Bobbi Dublachon asked and seated them at a small booth.

"My husband? He says great game Saturday," Bobbi said as she put a bowl of chips and two different bowls of salsa on the table. "Says you try this green salsa; tell him what you think."

"Oomph!" Arville coughed as the fiery salsa burned his esophagus.

"He doesn't like it," Bobbi called out.

"Listened to the game in the back; Bobbi kept coming back there and telling me quit yelling," Marlon Dublachon, Bobbi's husband said, approaching the table.

"Well, thank you for supporting U.L.D.," Arville smiled.

"Green's too hot, huh?" Marlon asked.

"Yes Honey, it's too hot; no one can eat it," Bobbi said.

"I'm asking you?" Marlon asked her. "Huh? I'm facing him, I'm talking to him, don't look to me like I'm asking you."

"It is a little bit much," Arville agreed.

"Oh holy..." Courtney cried out, quickly guzzling her glass of water.

"See?" Bobbi said.

"Uh huh, you be quiet woman," Marlon said and gave her an affectionate pinch on her backside before disappearing into the kitchen again.

"My daddy? Hated Marlon the minute they met," Bobbi confided to the couple. "But then taught him how to cook everything on our menu and now even my momma says it's better than my daddy's."

After their meal, which was interrupted a few times by other patrons coming up and talking to the young man, they walked across the parking lot to the Bow-A-Rama.

"You have your own ball?" Courtney asked when Arville grabbed his bag from the bed of the truck.

"I wear a size fifteen shoe," Arville smiled. Largest they got here is thirteen so I bring my own."

He paid for their lane while Courtney got size eight shoes. He patiently waited while she ran around, searching for a ten pound ball with large enough, but not too large finger holes.

"And that's the other reason I bring my own," Arville smiled when she finally showed up, neon blue ball in hand.

"Oh my God!" Courtney said when she saw his candy apple red ball. "I can put three of my fingers into just one hole on that thing!"

"And I can't put my fingernail into one of those," Arville smiled. "Ladies first."

Bowling was one of Arville's favorite pastimes. If they allowed women to play football at the college level, he might like that as much, but bowling forced the woman to bend over, backside only a few feet away from his face. If they wore shorts, as Courtney was wearing, portions of their backsides would peek out from time to time, and he could not be chided for looking.

Arville smiled; Courtney's pale blue panties matched her blouse; he couldn't help but wonder if her bra matched as well.

"Ha! How you like that, huh?" Courtney crowed when she got a spare.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Arville agreed and hefted his sixteen pound ball.

He found his sweet spot on the lane and hurled the ball down the lane.

"Hmm, what you think?" Arville smiled as the pins bounced around noisily, all falling down.

"Oh, whatever," Courtney huffed.

He won the first game, 242 to 167 and won the second game 258 to 180. They decided to try a game of billiards and he let her win, 'scratching' on the eight ball.

"Hi, welcome to Clark's," a fresh faced girl smiled as she skidded to a stop next to the truck.

"One large hot fudge sundae for the guy who won not one, but two, count them, two games at bowling and a banana split for the girl who won only one measly little game of pool," Arville smiled.

"Shut up!" Courtney screeched, slapping at him.

"You go girl," the waitress smiled, skating away.

"See? She knows pool takes real skill, not stupid bowling," Courtney said.

"Uh huh," Arville laughed.

"Had a great time; hope we can do it again," Arville said as he walked her to her door.

"Yeah," she agreed, linking her fingers with his substantially larger fingers.

"He bent and gave her a soft kiss.

"Um, listen, you um, you don't still have plans for Thursday night, huh?" Courtney wheedled, not letting go of his hand.

"Well, yeah I do," Arville said, losing his easy smile.

"But we went out," Courtney whined.

"Yeah, and I had a great time; hope we can do it again, "Arville said gently. "But I've already made plans with this other girl; how would you feel if I called you up and broke it off with you?"

"Well, if you told me you were already seeing someone, I wouldn't like it but I'd have to understand," Courtney lied.

"Uh huh, see you tomorrow," Arville said, gave her another, slightly longer kiss, then walked away.

"Ass hole," Courtney spat then entered her house.

To Courtney's surprise, her mother was not sympathetic in the least.

"Courtney, y'all went out for one date. One," Helen said. "Now, if y'all had been dating for a couple of months, maybe I could see it, but really!"

She touched her daughter's cheek.

"And he did say he wants to see you again, didn't he?" the older woman said.

"And damn, can he kiss," Courtney thought as she went to her bedroom.

Chapter 4

Charlie LaPointe watched in mild annoyance as Iris, his wife herded the three children to the door.

"Really?" he asked again. "Rachael's got a date so we all have to go over there?"

"Well yeah," Iris said, pale face uncomprehending.

Charlie sighed and got to his feet.

Iris had bought into the Davis mentality, totally and completely. If Henry was playing a tree in the school play, the whole family had to go and watch a boring school play, and then afterward had to tell Henry how proud they were that he was such a wonderful tree. If Carmy and Jennica had a dance recital at Kizzy Clark's School of Dance, they all had to go and watch the two girls basically just jump around to music. Afterward, they all had to tell the two girls how wonderful they were.

"But you're not even a Davis," he wanted to protest, but knew it would do no good.

Iris was a Davis. She had moved in to be the children's nanny after his wife Elaine had been murdered. Carmen, his mother in law and Elain's mother, his father in law, and sister in law had welcomed Iris with open arms. His children had adapted well to Iris' presence.

Then one night, his daughter Carmen had called Iris 'Mommy' and Charlie had fled the room.

Iris had heard Charlie sobbing; he missed his dear sweet wonderful beautiful Elaine so much.

The next morning, he had felt absolutely horrible; he had betrayed his dear sweet Elaine, and taken advantage of Iris. But the beautiful Iris greeted him with a quiet 'good morning,' then fixed their breakfast.

Elise, his sister in law, had asked Iris to be the maid of honor at her wedding. She accepted that Iris was the new woman in her niece and nephews' lives and that was it. Carmen accepted that Iris was the new woman in his life and was watching her grandchildren.

"Get the tray off the stove," Iris ordered. "Hot pads next to it; use them. I don't want to hear you whining you burned your hands again."

Charlie locked the door and followed the procession, admiring Iris' backside as the pregnant beauty waddled after the children.

Across the street, he could see Elise and Darren make their way to Elise's parents' house.

When Elise and Darren bought the house right next door to Carmen and Dick, Iris had been among the first to grab paint brush. Iris had surprised them by demonstrating that she knew how to lay tile and carpet almost as well as any expensive expert.

Darren waved to his brother in law and Charlie smirked.

Big, tough Darren, a cop, was just as totally and completely pussy-whipped it wasn't even funny. Elise said 'jump' and Darren said 'yes dear' and jumped. Darren was as much a Davis as Iris had become.

"And why are we suddenly calling Rachael's daughter 'The Ripper' anyway?" Charlie asked as he reached Carmen and Dick's front door.

"Because she's tearing up them diapers," Trey hooted.

It rankled Charlie, galled him thoroughly that Rachael, a girl that had never even met his Elaine, named her daughter after his Elaine.

He stepped into the loud bedlam that was now Carmen and Dick's living room.

It was this living room that Charlie had stepped into, twelve years earlier, for his first date with Elaine Simone. Elaine, or LaLa as her sister called her, Elise Simone, Carmen Simone and Carmen's boyfriend, Sheriff Dick Davis had embarrassed the sweet, beautiful happy, insecure LaLa by pulling out the family albums and telling Charlie all of LaLa's embarrassing childhood memories and secrets.

They'd made him a Davis too.

Iris took the tray of hot food out of his hands to bring into the kitchen. He could hear his mother in law protest "You didn't have to do that!" and his sister in law Elise proclaim "Chicken roll ups? Yes she did!"

And when Dick Davis, then Sherriff Dick Davis had brought a homeless pregnant Rachael Thibodeaux into this house, Rachael was instantly a Davis too.

Charlie smiled widely, and accepted the bottle of beer his brother in law held out, mentally apologizing to the man for calling him 'pussy whipped.'

Rachael came down the stairs in a snap button Western style blouse, denim skirt, and bright turquoise blue boots.

Charlie recognized the blouse as one of Iris' and recognized the skirt as one of Elise's. When Rachael nervously brushed her long blonde hair back, Charlie saw a pair of his mother in law's silver and turquoise earrings dangling from the girl's ears.

"What's up, Doc?" Dick greeted his son in law.

Charlie's smile widened even more; that was the very first thing Dick had said to him when he came over for his first date with Elaine Simone.

Rachael was immediately swallowed up by the three women and two girls. Henry was loudly telling Richard about some goofy football game they'd seen on television. Trey was trying to look 'too cool' for anything but Charlie could see the glances the youth kept shooting at Rachael.

A knock sounded at the front door and Charlie almost laughed out loud. Dick and Darren immediately became cops, both squaring off their shoulders and approaching the door with purpose.

"Hi, here to pick up Rachael," Arville Brodt smiled.

Dick relaxed, but Darren did not.

"Arville Brodt," Arville held out his hand for Darren.

Darren tried hard to crush the younger man's hand but Arville's hand was too large.

"Darren Richards," Darren growled. "Listen, this Cowboy's Barbeque? I understand they don't card; you not planning on drinking are you?"

"Uh no sir," Arville said, losing his smile. "My mom and dad were alcoholics; I saw firsthand what that stuff can do to a family. In fact, my dad died from it. Then my mom married Jonas Pierce and hasn't had a drink since then; been six years now."

"Hi," Rachael said, wiggling out of the women huddle.

"I know your step-father," Dick said. "Jonas' a good guy."

"Step?" Arville said. "There's no steps in our house, except for the one at the front door."

Rachael stopped walking and looked around the loud, crowded living room.

When Arville had called her for a date, Iris had scurried over, western blouses in hand. Elise had scampered over, with three different western style skirts in one hand and a pair of cowboy boots in the other. Iris had a substantial chest, so her blouses were tailored to accommodate, a fact that the large breasted Rachael really appreciated. The four women put together two really nice outfits, and a third, if Rachael wanted to wear jeans.

But the boots were just a half sized too big. Rachael insisted that she could just wear three pair of socks, but she was dragged down to Miss Carmen's car, Elise and Iris jumped into the rear seat, and they all went to Cal's Western Wear in Flowers, Louisiana, to shop for boots. Dick Davis protested when he was told he was to watch Elaine while they were gone. Darren had laughed, until Elise told him he was to help watch Ellaine.

At Cal's, Rachael tried on some vinyl boots that had a forty nine dollar price tag, but her eyes kept being drawn to the beautiful turquoise blue boots. But the two hundred and seventy nine dollar price tag had her looking at some other vinyl boots.

"Get her those in a size eight," Miss Carmen had said, pointing to the beautiful blue boots.

"But they're too much," Rachael protested.

"Uh huh," Carmen shrugged.

"And it's just one date; suppose we hate each other?" Rachael argued.

"And I know someone's got a nineteenth birthday in a couple of days." Carmen shrugged.

"And see, they got this nice leather sole; love them for dancing," the salesgirl said. "I got this in the red; you want to see the red? Oh, and we got it in purple and green, and of course black too."

"Oh my God," Rachael said involuntarily when she felt the gel insoles on her feet.

Oh, and white; I keep forgetting about the white," the sales girl continued to prattle as Rachael took a few cautious steps in the boots.

"Hey Mom, what you think?" Elise asked, showing her mother a lipstick red thigh high leather boot with a five inch stiletto heel that was on display.

"For me or you?" Carmen asked.

"Ew, Mom!" Elise said. "What you need that for?"

"Same thing you do," Carmen laughed at her daughter's expression. "I like that too you know."