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"Son, what's this about some money you stole?" John asked.
"Huh?" Carl asked.
"Says here you stole some money, some shit about birthday cards or something?" John asked, pointing to the petition.
"I don't have a clue," Carl lied, squinting to look at the petition.
"Oh, who cares what that little bitch says?" Corrine said, coming to her son's defense.
In her hospital bed, Alida practiced biting down with the implants they'd given her.
"Now, the real ones will be ready in about twelve days," the orthodontic surgeon smiled as Alida practiced smiling. "But these will hold up fine until then."
"Anything she can't eat?" Pan asked.
"Well, she's going to want to avoid any sticky foods, you know, bubble gum, taffy..." the man told her.
"Jelly beans?" Alida asked.
"They do get kind of sticky," the man agreed, checked the fit one more time, and then left the room.
"We'll call as soon as your implants are ready," his assistant simpered before leaving the room.
"Wait, wait, how you going to call?" Alida called out, but the man had already dashed down the hall.
"I don't have a phone any more!" Alida yelled.
"Keep it down!" Pam chided her. "I gave them my phone number."
"Oh," Alida said.
"Now, you get out of here tomorrow; they said it'd be about ten o'clock; call me and either me or Cindy will come get you."
"And then what?" Alida asked.
"What you mean, 'and then what,'" Pam asked.
"Where'm I going?" Alida asked.
"My house," Pam said.
"Pam! Really? I mean, you got what? Five or six kids running around there? You got room for me?" Alida asked.
"I'll always had room for you," Pam assured her, gave her a hug and a kiss, then left.
Chapter 11
Ryan cursed as he pushed the lawnmower through the dense clumps of weeds that dotted his property.
He could have had his landscaping crew come out and do his yard, but somehow, he thought that it would give him a sense of ownership, a source of pride to cut it himself. So he drove to Lafayette, Louisiana, bought a brand new lawnmower, weed whacker, edger, and broom.
"And where in the fuck are all these weeds coming from?" he cursed, and then screamed in panic as the lawnmower hit a fire ant mound.
"Aigh!" he screamed as the hellacious insects began to attack.
Another trip to Home Depot in Lafayette armed him with the tools to deal with the tiny devils.
Nearly seven hours after he started, Ryan completed the yard work. Looking around at the lawn, and at the bags of grass clippings, he did actually have a sense of accomplishment.
Ryan put everything away in the shed in the back yard, entered his laundry room, and stripped off his clothes. Entering his bedroom, en route to his shower, he heard his cell phone ding. There were three messages, all from the same, unknown phone number.
"Hey, um, Ryan? I'm um, I'm out of the hospital; I'm at my sister's house," he heard Alida's voice.
The second message had come about an hour later, obviously Alida had been bored. It was just a rambling monologue about her sister's house and how many people were living there.
The third message had come twenty minutes earlier, about the time he was shoving everything into the tool shed.
"Hey, um, I miss you," she said. "I um, I just kind of you know, um, just wanted to let you know I um, I miss you."
Ryan called the telephone number.
"Hello?" a man's voice answered.
"Hi, um, this is Ryan, Thibodeaux," Ryan said.
"What's up? That storage unit's coming together real nice; damn I love those plans you say you got them off the 'Net? Man, they are so easy to follow; almost like Legos, I swear," Paul Robichaux said.
Then he grew serious.
"But, um, how'd you get my home number? I don't give this number out," Paul said.
"I um, I was actually calling for Alida," Ryan admitted.
"Oh, her? Stuffed her in the tool box; she never shuts up, damn I swear!" Paul said.
"Give me that is that Ryan, give me that phone!" Ryan heard Alida demand.
"What's the magic word and remember there are children around," Paul teased.
"If you don't give me that phone," Alida threatened.
"Hi," Ryan said, chuckling lightly.
"Hey, where were you? I called like a hundred times!" Alida said.
"What you doing tonight?" Ryan asked.
"Nothing; earlier I seen that Miss Penny, my lawyer? She wants me to come back tomorrow, but..." Alida said.
"Want to go to that Bombay Café?" Ryan asked.
"You know it!" Alida enthused.
"Well, I just finished cutting the grass; let me grab a quick shower; where you live? I'll swing by..." Ryan said.
It took Ryan twenty minutes to shower, masturbate, get dressed and drive to the Robichaux house.
Paul smiled sympathetically as Pam gave Ryan the third degree, even as Alida tugged him toward the door.
"And what time you think y'all be home?" Pam hollered out as Alida slammed the front door shut.
"Soon as I feel like it, 'Mom,'"" Alida snapped at the door.
"Hey; she's worried about you," Ryan chided.
"What time you want her home?" Ryan asked after he opened the front door again.
"Eleven, twelve; she's got an eight thirty appointment with her lawyer," Pam said, smiling at Alida's scowling face behind Ryan.
"Um, I can take her; Penny's my lawyer too," Ryan said. "And now that I know where she lives..."
"We'll go straight from his house," Alida said.
"You really think..." Pam started.
"Oh look who's talking!" Alida hooted no mirth in her voice. "Paul and Cindy are married but that don't stop you from..."
"I mean, you're not divorced yet," Pam hissed, embarrassment making her blush.
Alida reached around Ryan, slammed the door shut again, and pulled him to his truck.
The cast on Alida's left arm did make climbing into his truck a little more difficult, but she still refused his assistance. | Ryan didn't mind; it gave him a great view of her white cotton panties when her short skirt rode up.
"Pervert," she laughed when he closed the door.
"Uh huh; you'd look too," he smiled
Hashim greeted him like a long lost friend and guided them to a secluded booth.
"Any questions, let me know; I do my best," Hashim assured them.
"That stuff you was bringing me in the hospital?" Alida asked, looking at the menu.
"Ah yes, you like that?" Hashim asked.
"Eh, she said it was all right," Ryan teased.
"You kidding? I couldn't et enough of it!" Alida enthused.
"So we know what she wants," Ryan smirked.
"And we know what you want," Hashim said.
"Carl hates stuff's too hot," Alida said when Hashim left their table.
"Who cares?" Ryan asked.
"Know what? You right, who cares what Carl wants?" Alida said and laughed.
She looked around; the interior was dimly lighted, the walls decorated with Indian art, mostly of couples. The tables were covered by table cloths and the silverware was good, solid silverware. Carl would have never taken her here; he bitched about how expensive Cracker Barrel was.
"Hey, how much was that lunch you brung me?" Alida asked.
"What? Don't worry about it," Ryan sputtered.
"No, come on; how much was it?" Alida insisted.
"I don't know, twenty, twenty five bucks," Ryan shrugged.
"And a strawberry malt from Clark's is five bucks," Alida mused aloud.
"And? So what?" Ryan said.
"Hashim brought out the cups of lentil soup.
"And there's a lime wedge in the bottom," Ryan cautioned.
"And what you do with that?" Alida asked him.
"I eat it," Ryan said.
"I eat it, some people just squeeze the juice into the soup, some people just leave it," Hashim shrugged.
There were other customers in the dim, romantic restaurant, but Hashim seemed to always be within eyesight and was very attentive to them.
"I like this place," Alida said as Hashim cleared away the dishes from their entrée.
"Good, I'm glad," Ryan smiled.
"Okay, spiced tea? And maybe dessert?" Hashim said.
"You still got that jelly bean pie?" Alida asked.
"That? No, no, we do have mango pie, um, saffron rice pudding, ah, key lime pie and this chocolate cake, my sister? She says it's the best," Hashim said.
"His sister's the one made the jelly bean pie," Ryan offered.
"Then two pieces of that cake," Alida said.
"You want anything?" she asked Ryan, causing him to laugh.
After Ryan paid their bill (she had insisted on seeing it and her eyes opened wide) they walked out into the twilight.
"No," Ryan said forcefully when Alida insisted on pulling herself into the truck seat.
There were three teenagers, a girl and two boys that were getting out of a car and were looking right at them. (They did make a slightly odd looking couple; he was nearly two feet taller than she)
He picked her up and put her into the truck.
"I didn't want you flashing them your drawers," Ryan whispered and softly kissed her cheek.
""Girls don't wear drawers," Alida informed him when he got into the driver's seat.
"Oh? What y'all got?" Ryan asked as he started the truck.
"Undies," she said, laughing.
"Uh huh, so where to now?" Ryan asked.
"You need to show me the house; I only seen it that one time," Alida suggested.
"Okay," Ryan said and drove to his house.
As he drove toward Club Fantastic, Carl saw Ryan Thibodaux's old battered pick up truck drive past.
"Oh shit!" Alida squeaked as she ducked down. "That's Carl!"
"So?" Ryan laughed as she hunkered down in her seat.
Carl only saw that loser, Ryan, and felt a rage build up in himself. How could his wife, a woman he had doted on, had adored for so many years, freely give herself to such a loser?
And worse yet, become pregnant by him?
Alida swore it was that one time, but Carl knew the medical improbability of her becoming pregnant from just one time. It was not impossible, just highly improbable.
He sat for a moment and debated on whether or not to follow Ryan back to the apartment and confront him. This time, though, he had his father's snub nose thirty eight. Ryan wouldn't be able to defend himself against the small revolver.
Carl smiled tightly; he already knew which apartment that loser lived in; right now, though, his cock was rock hard in anticipation of Maggie Cox. The dancer was a few years older than him, had some miles on her, but she was willing to suck his cock for twenty five bucks while he played with her heavy breasts.
He walked into the smoky, dimly lighted night club and waved in greeting as Maggie bumped and gyrated to a song that was rendered unrecognizable by the horrible sound system in the seedy bar.
"Hey Sugar Boo," another dancer, a black girl with large, surgically enhanced breasts, and a few gold teeth, greeted Carl as he took a seat at the bar.
"Uh huh," Carl said.
"Buy a girl a drink?" 'Candy' whispered seductively.
"Waiting on Maggie," Carl said, pointing over his shoulder at Maggie.
"Mean you can't buy me a drink?" Candy asked, a hard edge coming to her voice.
"No, means I don't see the point," Carl smirked as she stomped off.
"Man, what'd you do to Candy?" Maggie hooted as she sat down next to him.
Wanted me to buy her a drink; told her no," Carl shrugged.
"Well, buy me a drink?" Maggie asked.
"Sure, why not?" Carl agreed.
The bartender placed a glass of orange juice and 7-up in front of Maggie then charge Carl eight dollars for the drink.
"Damn; shit ain't cheap, that's for sure," Carl complained.
"So, what you in the mood for, huh?" Maggie whispered into his ear.
"Think you know by now," Carl said, a little perturbed.
The bar was smoky, making it hard to breathe. Maggie's perfume was obviously a very cheap one and she wore too much of it, further giving him a headache. The music was unbearable at such a high volume.
And eight dollars for a drink was ridiculous as far as he was concerned.
"Ever been on a picnic?' Carl suggested.
"No, why?" Maggie asked as she lighted a cigarette.
"Nice romantic picnic," Carl suggested.
"Uh huh, and mosquitoes can eat my ass up," Maggie said.
"Bug spray," Carl suggested.
He wasn't suggesting a picnic because of the romance value; she kept indicating she'd like to eat at La Scalia's, a very expensive Italian restaurant. Carl was suggesting a picnic because it was cheap.
And Maggie wasn't fooled. If he thought she would give him for free what she was charging twenty five dollars for, just because he took her on a cheap ass picnic, he was in for a rude awakening.
"So, um, and how about we..." Maggie suggested as she crushed her cigarette.
Carl pulled out his wallet, found the money he'd already set aside, and handed it to her.
"Thanks, Baby," Maggie said as she pulled him toward one of the cubicles.
She pulled the curtain closed, peeled the pasties off of her nipples and shook her breasts in his face.
"Damn and these fuckers are real," Carl moaned as he hefted one in his hands.
Then she expertly unzipped his pants and sucked her fourth cock of the night. She would suck at least six or seven more before the night was over. Most nights, though, it was usually twelve to fifteen cocks. Most of them were smart enough to realize it was just a business proposition. Carl, however, seemed to think it was a relationship.
He spurted weakly into her mouth and she spit it out into a wadded up tissue.
"Thanks, Sweetie; buy me another drink?" she asked as he weakly got to his feet.
"Sure," he mumbled.
At Ryan's home, Alida wrinkled her face at the sight of the painting.
"No, no," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Look closer at it; it's not just all desert and nothingness."
"Oh yeah," she said, leaning back against him. "Okay, there's that cloud so it might rain. And there's that bug..."
"Scorpion," Ryan corrected, kissing the top of her head.
"And that cactus' got that flower on it..." Alida pointed out.
"Huh? There's, wow, I've never seen that before," Ryan said, squinting at the painting.
"Got a new bed?" Alida asked when he showed her the bedroom.
"Yeah, room's so big my old bed looked tiny in here," Ryan said.
"But that was our bed," Alida said, rubbing his belly. "That's where we made..."
She rubbed her own belly.
"How you feel about..." Ryan asked, rubbing her flat belly.
"I'm so happy I could cry," she admitted.
She craned up for a kiss.
"And how do you feel about our baby?" she asked when he released her mouth.
"Like a dream come true," he admitted.
He pulled her out onto the deck and showed her the stakes.
"And we're having a swimming pool put in; don't know if you like swimming but I really miss it," Ryan said. "As soon as Paul finished the storage units he'll jump right on this."
"I seen this ting on TV; babies are like really good at swimming," Alida said, walking around the perimeter of the stakes and string.
"Yeah, read about that," Ryan agreed.
"So, um, if you um you know if you're not living here, you can always bring our boy over," Ryan said, hugging her when she came back around to where he stood.
""Oh yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah," Ryan said. "And mommy can bring her own bathing suit and..."
"Yard's fenced in; Alida said, pointing to the wooden fence. "I'm going skinny dipping."
"And it's a girl," Alida said, undoing a button on her blouse.
"They can tell?" Ryan asked.
"Nope; I just know," Alida smiled as she shrugged out of her blouse. "I just know it's a little girl. Now, you coming swimming or what?"
Ryan looked around, checking to see if any neighbors might be able to see into the darkened back yard.
"Chicken shit," Alida laughed as she dropped her skirt to the ground.
Ryan pulled his shirt off, unzipped his jeans and shimmied out of them.
Alida laughed as he pretended to do a cannonball into the pool.
She dropped her bra, and then shimmied out of her panties.
"Quit, goofball," she laughed as Ryan pretended he was swimming.
She knelt down and kissed him.
"I really did miss you," she said as she lay on the grass next to him.
"Even if I make you sick?" Ryan asked, suddenly remembering her hateful words.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I am so fucking sorry I ever said that, okay?"
"Uh huh," Ryan said and walked to where his clothes were scattered.
"Where you going?" Alida called out. "Water's nice and warm."
"I'll be inside; you want coffee?" Ryan asked flatly as he slid the glass door open.
A moment later, Alida slid the glass door open, and then slid it shut again.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Alida asked, as she struggled back into her blouse.
"Minute I saw you; I was like 'Oh my God! I love her!' but yeah I was all fat and stuff," Ryan said bitterly as he sipped his coffee.
Alida smoothed down her blouse.
"Didn't matter, though; you were all in love with that ass hole Carl Betsingal, fat fucking ass hole," Ryan said.
"Yeah, he..." Alida agreed.
"Oh well, can't win them all so I go off to college, come back and buy up all kind of apartments and shit," Ryan said and put the coffee cup into the sink.
"You what?" Alida asked.
"Still doesn't matter; I'm still just a big fucking loser, right?" Ryan said and patted his pockets for his truck keys.
"Look, I said I'm sorry," Alida yelled.
"But at least this time, you're talking to me instead of just laughing in my face; you're talking to me," Ryan said and headed toward the front door.
"I was lonely; Carl was always at work," Alida protested.
"And then we did it, Alida," Ryan yelled back. "Fuck! We made love and I'm like 'finally! Finally showed her I love her.' Does it make a shit? NO! It doesn't make a shit at all!"
"It did make a shit!" Alida yelled back. "Fuck! You have any fucking idea how good..."
"It didn't make a shit, Alida! Even after I gave you everything I had inside of me, you STILL went back to that sack of shit loser mother fucker tried to kill you!" Ryan screamed in frustration.
"He was my husband! What the fuck was I supposed to do?" Alida screamed back.
"Any idea how I feel? God damn! What a fucking loser! Even after I made love to you, I still lose to that fat ass shit for brains ass wipe!" Ryan snarled, tears of rage pouring from his eyes.
"He was my husband! I didn't have a choice!" Alida screamed.
"And then you come over here with your 'oh I missed you and...'" Ryan snapped, yanking the front door open.
"I do! I do miss you!" Alida protested.
Chapter 12
Carl Betsingal looked into the unsympathetic eyes of Dr. Louis Leblanc.
"Where am I?" he croaked.
"St. Elizabeth," Louis said calmly.
"What? Why? What am I doing here?" Carl spluttered.
"Head injury, blunt force trauma," Louis said, sitting back.
"Blunt..." Carl asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, seems you tried to break your hooker girlfriend's boyfriend's fist with your face," Louis smiled sardonically.
"Big difference between beating up on a four foot tall girl and a six foot tall biker, huh?" Louis sneered as he left the room.
"So what is the extent of my injuries?" Carl demanded of the nurse as she bustled about. "Hand me the chart, please."
She looked toward the door for assistance, shrugged, and handed Carl the clipboard.
"Damn it, where the hell are my glasses?" Carl demanded, pounding on the bed in frustration.
"I uh, I don't see any," the nurse admitted.
"Never mind, stupid bitch," Carl sighed.
"Hey! I resent that! There's no need to call me names," the girl shrilled.
"Whatever, you can go now; send in your supervisor," Carl said, waving the girl away.
"Why? What you need..." the nurse demanded.
"Get your supervisor, NOW," Carl demanded.
"Yes sir?" Molly Dunham asked, stepping into the room.
Carl began his litany of complaints.
"Well, sir..." Molly smiled tightly when Carl took a breath.
"It's 'Doctor,' not 'Sir,'" Carl snapped.
"Oh, excuse me," Molly said, sarcasm dripping from her lips. "Well, Doctor, do not worry; you'll not have any more stupid bitches to deal with. I'll make sure you only have male nurses from now on."
