Lunches

"At home, laying around, being lazy, typical man," Bailey told them, smiling as she and Father Greg kept the line moving.

Then they drove to St. Joe's and Bailey and Father Greg helped Buzzy and crew.

"Thank you so much, Father," Bailey said as he drove back to Carter's house.

"Oh my dear girl; I should be thanking you," the priest smiled. "You know, we've grown mighty dependent on Carter's donations."

"And I've grown mighty dependent on Carter," Bailey admitted to the man. "And if it hadn't been for you and for St. Joe's? I wouldn't have my man."

Carter was no better when Bailey let herself back into the house.

"Well, shit," she said. "Guess I'm running to the store."

"Bailey, you don't have to..." Carter said.

"Uh huh, yeah I do," Bailey said. "Now, you eat anything today?"

It was nearly ten o'clock that night when Bailey tiredly finished the last of the meals. She softly kissed Carter, then drove his Mustang to the house she and her mother rented.

"Whew, you stink," her mother said.

"Whew, no kidding," Bailey agreed.

Carter was at least on his feet the next morning. He was bent nearly double, was hobbling, each step was delivered with a gasp and grunt, but he was up.

"No sir, you are not going to work like that," Bailey ordered.

"She's right, Carter," Father Greg said. "That back needs time to heal."

"Father, I see you for a minute?" Carter wheezed, pointing toward the living room.

Bailey quickly loaded the bus while the two men talked. When Father Greg climbed up into the bus, he was smiling.

As it was Friday, Bailey was spared of having to shop, and prepare the food, and store the food.

"You're a good girl," Father Greg said as he drove the bus back to Carter's house. "Tell me, dear, are you Catholic?"

"I was confirmed; my confirmation name's Lucy, after Saint Lucy," Bailey agreed.

"Oh, that makes it so much easier," Father Greg said.

Makes what so much easier?" Bailey asked.

"Being in the same bus with you," Father Greg joked and Bailey laughed.

She waved good-bye to the man and again let herself into Carter's home.

Carter was much better, but he still was not one hundred percent healed.

"Kind of wanted to take you out tonight," he admitted.

"Kind of don't need to worry about that; did you eat today?" Bailey said.

She fixed them a couple of sandwiches, made sure he was safely ensconced on the couch, then kissed him and left.

That Saturday, Bailey spent the morning cleaning the house she and her mother lived in, then after lunch, ran/walked back to Carter's house.

"Should be able to go to work Monday," Carter greeted her.

"That's fine," Bailey agreed, kissing him. "Be even better you could do the shopping tomorrow. You know how much work that is?"

"No, how much work is it?" Carter asked and Bailey laughed.

"A lot!" she agreed.

"Father Greg says you make an even better Cole slaw than I do," Carter said.

"I thought priests weren't supposed to lie," Bailey said as she quickly made a lunch for him.

"Baby, why you doing that?" Carter asked as he sat at his kitchen table, watching her juicy rear end jiggle and jostle.

"Because I love you," she said, and kissed him.

Her large breasts brushed against his unshaved face as she put his plate on the table.

Emily had said the same thing, that she loved him.

But Emily would have sat at the kitchen table and watched as he slowly, painfully made them a sandwich.

Emily would have said that the people of St. Joe's could go a day or two without his food.

The house would have been clean, only if Carter had grabbed broom and dustpan and mop and scrub brush.

"I love you," Carter said.

"Good," Bailey smiled.

She tidied up a bit, then shrugged.

"Okay, need anything?" she asked as she prepared to leave.

"Just a kiss," Carter said.

"Then shave that face," Bailey said, but bent and gave him a kiss.

She gave him a second kiss, then left his house.

Carter did shave his face; he even drove to the supermarket and bought all the foods stuff they'd need to start their work week. When Bailey let herself into his house that Sunday, he was busy at work.

"How's that back? You supposed be doing that?" she asked.

"Back's fine, and uh, yeah I'm supposed be doing this," Carter smiled and bent and kissed her.

They worked quickly, efficiently. Then Carter made her squeal when he grabbed her, bent her over the back of one of the dining room chairs and slid her nylon shorts down her legs.

"Oh God yes," she hissed as he slid his hard cock into her wet pussy.

He did not chance a good hard pounding; his back was still a little tender. But Bailey seemed to enjoy the long, slow strokes he gave her.

"Ah, shit!" she screamed out when he reached around her slender hip and gave her clitoris a brisk rubbing.

Then he pumped his semen into her.

"Pick you up, first thing in the morning," he promised, kissed her, then began the task of putting everything into the large refrigerator.

But it was nearly two hours, and one more slow fuck later before Bailey left Carter's home.

The following day, their regulars greeted 'Joe' and told him that he'd better be careful; there was another, better looking guy working with Bailey the previous two days.

"And looked like he could take you in a fair fight," one man persisted.

"Him? Not worried about him," Carter smiled. "More worried about you trying steal her away from me."

"Who told you I'm madly in love with her?" the customer smiled.

"Uh huh, seven forty one," Bailey said. "Make it snappy, Clyde. Line of people behind you."

"Okay, I'm NOT in love with you no more," the man laughed and waved away his change.

As usual, Buzzy was the first one on the bus and greeted Bailey and Carter happily.

Then, as the kitchen of St. Joseph's was in full bedlam, Carter got down on one knee in front of Bailey.

"Bailey Cooper, if these last few days have shown me anything, it's that I cannot live without you," Carter said and pulled a small box out of his shirt pocket.

Bailey looked at the simple diamond ring, at Carter's handsome face, and fainted.

Buzzy, who was hanging on Carter's every word, caught the girl before she hit the floor.

"Oh my God," Bailey said when she came to. "That was so weird. I thought you said..."

"We waiting on a 'yes' or 'no,'" Buzzy chortled and her eyes rolled back in her head again.

The ring was just a tad too big for her ring finger, so Bailey wore it on her middle finger and would not take her eyes off of it. Even at the grocery store, she stared at it, examining it in all angles.

Her mother was less than impressed when her daughter excitedly showed her the ring.

"Kind of small, ain't it?" was her response.

*.*.*

"Really? A million churches all around, and you have to get married here?" her mother hissed as they waited in the kitchen of St. Joseph's Diner.

Buzzy stood, ramrod stiff, very uncomfortable in the too tight suit that someone had donated to St. Joseph's.

"Mother, this is more of God's home than a lot of those churches you see out there," Bailey said.

"And if we could have the mother of the bride," the photographer cheerfully called out.

Bailey's mother was horrified; the dining room was full of homeless people, transients. They were filthy, they smelled horrible.

The photographer posed her in front of the cake, in front of the temporary altar, next to Carter.

And her daughter's fiancé, her daughter's husband was another shock to the woman. He was only a year or two younger than she was. Far too old to be marrying her daughter.

Then the photographer had the usher seat her and nodded to the young man that was playing the small keyboard.

The wedding march started and the assembled guests stood and chattered excitedly.

"She's beautiful!"

"Mommy, I want a dress like that when I get married!"

"Oh look at her!"

"And who gives this woman to be married?" Father Greg asked Buzzy as he escorted a beaming Bailey toward the temporary altar.

"Her mo... Her mo..." Buzzy choked out, weeping uncontrollably.

"Thank you, George," Father Greg smiled as the man used a grubby handkerchief to dab at his face.

"Her Mother, and Saint Joseph give this woman to be married!" Buzzy managed to scream out before collapsing in sobs again.

The ceremony was a simple one and the gathering applauded when Father Greg introduced Mr. and Mrs. Carter Cunningham to the congregation.

Then, the chairs the guests had sat in during the ceremony were quickly gathered and placed around several long tables.

The man at the keyboard walked over to a tape player and started it. Music blared out and Carter and Bailey did a quick dance for the photographer while the men ran to the kitchen and gathered the sandwiches that Bailey and Carter had prepared the night before.

"When they cutting that cake?" a child asked Bailey's mother.

"I'm not sure," she smiled at the small girl. "Why? You like cake?"

"Uh huh," the girl nodded. "Once, when my Daddy was here, it was my birthday and we had cake, and we had ice cream and we had... They got ice cream?"

"No, Nancy, this isn't an ice cream kind of cake," the girl's mother smiled, revealing a mouth of horribly chipped, stained teeth.

"So, what happened to her Daddy?" Bailey's mother asked.

"Lost his job," the woman said, smile fading. "When they took our car, he put his shotgun in his mouth and..."

"Buzzy, you big cry baby," Bailey teased, then made the man cry some more when she kissed him on his cheek.

"Momma, you doing all right?" Bailey asked.

"When I'm big, I'm going be beautiful like you," Nancy declared to Bailey.

"I know you will," Bailey said to the small girl.

"Because you're already beautiful," Bailey's mother said and the girl giggled.

"You want anything?" one of the men asked a woman, wrinkled face stained by tears as she stood by the door, watching.

"No, thank you," Emily said, pushed the door of the shelter open, and stepped out into the bright Texas sunlight.

THE END.

I think we can all see where they go from here.

Bailey and Carter continue to give. Give to one another, to St. Joe's, to those that need it. They continue to work hard, and continue to love each other.

Alan Hackett continues to be a dumb ass punk ass bitch.

Buzzy thinks of Bailey as his own daughter, continues to love her, and continues to dote upon her. Whenever he thinks he's fine, that he doesn't need to take his medication, he imagines Bailey would be disappointed in him so he takes his medication.

Father Greg is transferred to another Catholic parish and starts up a shelter in his new parish. The new priest is from Vietnam and is appalled that, in a country as rich as the United States of America, there could even be such a thing as homelessness.

Bailey's mother starts to donate time, and money to St. Joseph's. In time, Nancy, and her mother Theresa Winemaker move into her home. It's Bailey's mother, Bailey, and Theresa that takes Nancy to her first day of school.

*****

**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.

Have a sloppy joe kind of day.