Necessities - the Sequel

"Mr. Wilson, what's the meaning of this?" queried Judge Vallone.

"This is the remainder of my debt I owe to Lorraine Ravens, your honor - fifty cases of Charmin toilet paper."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Even though he was grinning, the judge didn't care much for my grand gesture. That might have been due to Lorraine's explosive, hysterical outburst.

(Finally. Decibel nirvana achieved.)

He ordered me to pay the $2000.00 balance immediately and fined me another $50.00 for my prank.

(It was sooo worth it!)

The divorce sailed through without much further ado. Abigail hugged me and shook my hand. She then went up to the judge and said quietly, "Thank you, Uncle Tony."

"My pleasure, Abs," he told her.

She returned to our table and I had to make a conscious effort to close my mouth.

'Okay,' I thought, 'we're even now.'

Abby giggled, "Good friend of my Dad's."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day she started the paperwork to file suit against Wilbur H. Hocki, et al...and in two weeks they'd settled for $400,000.00...and slut girl was out of a job. Her fuck-buddy was also removed as a senior partner. Two other lawsuits were also filed by two other husbands of secretaries he'd been banging. Sadly, there were also two other divorces. All the suits were handled by the law firm of De Lorens and Craig. My suit? It was handled pro bono.

(My attorney informed me that I was "in need," and I had been hurt enough. Besides, she said I was cute.)

We worked on our relationship for sixty-one days and dated often. Then she asked me to marry her.

"Awww, shucks, I don't know..." I hedged, rubbing the back of my neck.

She slugged me.

We went to Jared Jewelry and picked out a ring, then I proposed to her, figuring her family would want that. She told me we'd drop by her folk's house on Saturday, to see about talking to her parents. We arrived at her family's house on Saturday about lunchtime.

I'd gotten sandbagged again.

Not only were her parents there...her brothers, four sisters-in law, three nieces, four nephews, and an assortment of uncles and aunts were also there. Including Uncle Tony, his wife Theresa, Francine and her husband, her law partner Alice Craig and her husband and...oh, crap...my boss and his wife.

Gulp.

Abigail pushed me into her father's den and went to do everything imaginable with her left hand in front of all her female relatives and friends.

Her father asked me to close the door and have a seat. I had not met the man yet and he stood an intimidating six feet of muscle, no fat. Turns out he runs, works out, and chases his wife around the bedroom.

(Those were Abigail's words, not mine.)

"Alright, son, what's on your mind?"

I gulped again. "Sir, I would like to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

"Why?"

"Sir, she swept me off my feet and I feel like I haven't any other choice."

"Did she propose to you? He pinned me with a look that turned my liver and kidneys to jelly.

"Yes, sir but I asked her as soon as we bought the ring and I was slipping it on her finger."

"You should have asked for a ring, too, son." He rose from behind his desk and walked towards me. Uhh, Ohh. "That's what her Mother did to me." He shook his head. "Didn't stand a chance. But that's Abby for you...that's my girl." Then he nearly busted a gut laughing and pulled me into a bear hug. Still grinning, he said, "Welcome to the family, son...you did say yes, didn't you?"

"I don't think I had a choice, sir."

"He laughed again, "We never do. We court them, chase them, and romance them until they reel us in. Why don't we go meet your future mother-in-law and the rest of the family?"

We strolled into the formal living room and I was confronted by a wall of testosterone and grim kill-him-now-they'll-never-find-the-body looks on their faces. State Trooper Michael De Lorens, Army Special Forces Capt. David De Lorens, Air Force Capt. Jeremy and Head of Neurosurgery James De Lorens, MD stood facing their Dad and me, shoulder to shoulder in a formidable barrier in front of their sister that was six feet tall if it was an inch. The rest of the room also stared at me somberly in seeming support of the men who faced me.

The Trooper stepped forward, stopping before me and studying me for a moment before extending his hand and offering...sympathy?

"My condolences," he offered gravely, shaking my hand before moving off so the Army captain could take his place.

"My sympathies," he murmured, before he stepped to the other side and faced his dad, a suspicious twitch tugging at the corners of his mouth. I wasn't able to dwell on that, though, as the Air Force test pilot stepped up.

"I'm so sorry. You seem like a nice guy."

My mouth kind of dropped open at that as the brain surgeon took his place. He shook my hand but there seemed to be even more gravity to it, a feeling that was confirmed by his words.

"We have you scheduled for a brain scan tomorrow to see if there's any hope..."

"Boys," their mother's voice cut in with that 'Mom' tone that immediately had them all hunching their shoulders with guilt. Their peeks over those same shoulders confirmed that their sister was fixing them with death glares.

Then the four of them disintegrated into laughter and took turns giving me 'bro' hugs and pounding my back and shoulders.

"GOTCHA!!" they chorused boisterously complete with knee slaps and pointing. "Welcome to the family, Tom!"

I thought fleetingly about considering some sort of payback...but who am I kidding? I don't have the guts for that with those four.

Epilogue

Twelve years later

Abby comes into the room as I'm typing this up on my laptop, leading our four-year-old, Abigail Giselle. I turn and smile at the cooing little girl as she reaches for "her bestest Daddy in the whole wide world," and sit her on my lap. Abby leans down to kiss me and lingers, causing our daughter to cover her eyes and giggle. Her brother, Thomas Adam, is out with his uncles 'in the field' and no, neither I nor you want to know. He adores them, and the feeling is mutual. I don't worry when he's out with them.

"What're you doing, Daddy?"

"I'm writing the story about how Mommy and you and Tommy Junior made me the happiest Daddy in the whole wide world."

"Really?" I hear a sniffle and glance at my wife whose eyes look suspiciously moist. She gives me a watery smile, and I grin back.

"Yes, really."

"What part are you telling about now?"

"The part about when Mommy let me marry her."

"Oh goody, Daddy! Tell me out loud, please? That's my favoritest part!"

"Okay, sweetie," as I nudge my chin at Abby to pull up the other chair. This is her favorite part, too.

"Gramma and Grampa wanted a big wedding for Mommy since she's as special to them as you are to us. It was huge...and right at St. Michael the Archangel where we go every Sunday. Father Richard's boss, the Bishop Jackson stepped in to off..."

"Oh-fishy-tate, Daddy?"

"...mhmm, oh-fishy-ate, and all of Mommy's friends were there, and your uncles and aunts and cousins, and Momma May, and even Senator Bob and Grampa's friend Governor Dawson. And then after the church part, we had a big party to celebrate. I danced with Mommy for the first time as my wife and she was so beautiful, I thought I was dancing with a princess!"

"Like Rapunzedell? Or Cinduhrella?

"She was like a warrior princess, sweetie, like Red Sonja."

"Who, Daddy?"

I smiled at my wife, "That's a story for another time, sweetie. But I'm just getting to the best part where Uncle Mike and Uncle David tried to throw me into the pool from the balcony of the ballroom..."

My little girl clapped her hands with glee as she waited breathlessly for me to regale her with the tale of how her uncles had gotten pretty shit-faced and throwing me in the pool was almost the least of their antics that night. They were all sober for their dances with her Mom, though, after her teary-eyed dance with her Dad. I saw all four wipe at their eyes while they swayed with their freshly-married sister, which made me smile as I danced with their Mom, Giselle, where Abs Junior got her middle name from. I do remember something about "she was my responsibility, now."

I leaned down to whisper the next part, "Mommy even drank two glasses of champagne."

My daughter's eyes grew round and she covered her mouth with both hands as she giggled then looked at her Mom, who blushed rosily and flicked my shoulder.

"And then Mommy and I went on our honeymoon to Bermuda, and we stayed at the beach club we visited last spring..."

"The Pom-pan...pom-pom-pon...the Fish Beach Club, where I got to see all the pretty fish in the ocean?"

"That very same one. Only you got to see way more of the island than Mommy and Daddy got to see the first time we went there. And the second time."

"Eww, Daddy don't tell me about the mushy part."

My wife threw her head back and laughed. I thanked all the good nuns and Jesuit priests and her parents for instilling such good morals in her. The ones I was having so much fun corrupting. Yes, it's a hard job, but somebody's got to do it. May as well be me.

My little girl got down from my lap and announced she was hungry, so Abs Senior got up to go make us all some lunch. I returned to my typing and details of our life of the last twelve years. Her pro-bono work with the poor and immigrants. The $300,000 from the settlement I "invested" with her firm as a wedding present. The renovations to my house that she loved so we ended up selling her condo.

How we both set the tone for our marriage by our commitment to each other and by ensuring that none of the shenanigans that ended up leading to my divorce would ever be countenanced at her firm. I do recall a rather intimate conversation where she emphasized her 'no-cheating by anyone' outlook while squeezing the jewels, but c'mon, I love and trust her and she feels the same. Besides, y'know, four badass brothers.

My Mom and Pop, bless their souls, didn't raise their son to be stupid. Especially with my kids' godfathers being a State Trooper and a Special Forces Sniper.

Abs Senior and Junior returned with a tray piled with BLT sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea and three tumblers. My wife wore an enigmatic smile as she let my daughter set my plate in front of me, then set a small plastic device next to it. In the window set in the middle of the pen-length rectangle were two pink lines. I stared at my wife open-mouthed as she teary-eyed grinned and nodded.

"We're having another? What's that? In June?!?!?"

Okay, just what the hell have I gotten myself into?

"Hmmm? Oh...um, nothing, dear." I stood up.

"I love you, too." Oh, yeah my ex-wife? You got me by the shorts. Don't even care.

*****

That's it, thanks for reading. I'm not the best at grammar, (I had a little help from an editor here on Lit- Skye Kahoolii- thank you so much.) But I had a real good time writing it. Again, my first attempt at a story, so please be gentle.

The BEAR ... LT56linebacker