Wealth Pt. 03

"I'll take that beer now," Ed told Brooke as she brought their wings and nachos to the table.

Harmony gave Patrick a jammy kiss on his lips, then guided him back to his seat.

"Thanks," BJ and Michael both said, both holding out twenty dollar bills to her.

"Yeah, thanks," Patrick said and fished out a five dollar bill.

"Here," Harmony cooed to Patrick, putting his hand at the top of her thong. "Why don't you put it in there, huh?"

"All right Patrick!" Ed said.

"Oops, getting late," Bob said as he gnawed the meat off a second wing.

"Twenty bucks," Barry said to Henry.

"What?" Bob said

"It's not even an hour yet and you're already leaving," Barry smiled.

"Aw, blow it out your ears," Bob smiled.

"But it is getting late," Jack agreed.

"And twenty bucks," Henry said and Barry and Henry shook hands, laughing.

At the Elgee bar, Caitlin pasted a smile on her face as Raoul thrust his crotch toward her. The girls squealed and screamed encouragement and Raoul smiled as he jumped off the table.

"Really don't see what all the fuss is about, huh?" Shirley laughed and Caitlin laughed and agreed with her.

"And ladies, give a big Hammer welcome to Tony," a man's voice boomed out as a muscular young man, dressed in skin tight jeans and hard hat came onto the small stage. "This construction worker says he has the right tool for any job!"

"Ooh, I wonder what Barry would look like in them tight jeans!" Caitlin said and Shirley and Theresa screamed.

"Ew, Caitlin!" Toni complained, screwing up her face. "Gross; that's like my Dad!"

At the Dead End, Ed savored the taste of his beer and did drink a second one and did a good job of trenching through both wings and nachos.

"Michael , you taking Mr. Saturday Night Fever home?" BJ asked, getting to his feet.

"Yes, go see if Heather needs your help even though we know she doesn't," Michael agreed.

"Hey, I talk with you? Oh, I'm Harmony by the way," Harmony asked Patrick.

"Yeah, here, let me move, um, hope you don't mind but I peed on the seat; that's all right, huh?" Michael smiled.

"Hi, I um, listen, I just found out I got diabetes," Harmony said, sitting next to Patrick.

.""Oh, that's rough!" Patrick sympathized. "My girlfriend's got that."

"And uh, and they said, you know, one of the side effects is you could go blind," Harmony said.

"Yeah, if you're a total dumb ass and don't watch your diet, monitor your blood sugar," Patrick agreed. "That's what happened to Debbie. She was all like 'oh, I don't need to watch the sugar, I don't need to cut back on the carbs, I don't need to exercise, and that's what they make insulin for' and next thing you know..."

"But what's it like? I mean, being blind?" Harmony asked.

"Honestly?" Patrick shrugged. "It's not that bad. I mean, yeah, it's kind of a pain in the ass I can't drive, or sometimes you're watching TV and everybody's screaming and yelling and you don't know what's going on, but really? I went to the Louisiana Center for the Blind, got excellent training..."

"My son went to college..." Barry said proudly.

"You went to college?" Harmony asked, shocked.

"Taught him how to cook, how to clean, swear his place is cleaner than mine," Michael said.

"I mean, all I can think of, I'm going to be totally dependent on my sister for the rest of my life," Harmony admitted.

"Oh that is not true!" Henry shot in. "My godson, this is my godson, by the way, my godson lives on his own, gets himself to work every day, gets himself home every night."

"And does a might mean dance," Ed agreed.

"Harmony, you're up next," Cheryl, an Asian American dancer called out as she led a customer to one of the four Hurricane Rooms.

"Oh, okay," Harmony said.

"Listen, here's his phone number," Barry said, scribbling out Patrick's cell phone number on the back of one of his business cards. "Need more information, give him a call. Or talk to Debbie; she's got diabetes too."

Henry pulled his cell phone out and read a text from his wife and smiled widely.

"Oops, got to go," he said, pulling out the rest of his wad of five dollar bills and jamming it into Patrick's shirt pocket. "Shirley says she had two glasses of red wine and if I'm not home in ten minutes, she's starting without me. Those are all fives, hear boy?"

Henry kissed his godson on the lips, with no embarrassment at all, slapped Barry's back, hugged and kissed Michael and gave a hug to Ed Weinstein.

The kitchen at Side By Side was a controlled madhouse when BJ entered from the rear. Heather stood by the door, directing traffic.

"T Bone, said cut off the horns, wipe its ass and send it out," a petite Asian girl called out. "Baked potato, only butter."

"Hi BJ; Paige, table five," Heather said without turning around as she pointed to a tray for Paige Guidry, an attractive brunette waitress.

"Hi yourself; how's it going?" BJ asked.

"Twenty five minute wait, we're moving," she said, turned around and gave him a soft kiss.

"Any problems?" he smiled and hugged her.

She wiggled out of his grasp as Ernie, the head chef slid out another five plates.

"Polly," she called out as she put three of the plates onto a tray.

The petite Asian stepped up and grabbed the tray.

"Anna!" she called out as she put the other two on a tray and a blonde woman stepped up.

"Had some guy, ate his whole New York Strip, then tried to tell me it was overcooked," Paige said.

"Told him too bad so sad," Heather agreed. "Time to say something is after the first bite, not the last."

At the Dead End, there was nothing left of the nachos and the wings were just a pile of bones.

"And here's your girlfriend again; Dad, you ought to like this shit," Michael said as Harmony, now in gingham blouse knotted under her heavy breasts, blue jeans shorts, and boots, strutted out to Patsy Cline's 'I Fall To Pieces.'

"Here, Michael," Patrick said, counting out five five dollar bills.

"Nuh uh, bull shit. You always all so independent? You go put it in her tip jar," Michael said.

"From where you're sitting, the tip jar's about, what? About ten o'clock," Barry said.

"Yeah, about ten o'clock," Michael agreed. "You hit the wall? You've gone too far."

Patrick extended his collapsible cane, got close, remembered the stage was about two feet up and felt for the jar.

"Right here, Sweetie Pie," Harmony cooed, grabbing his hand and holding it over the jar.

"Thanks," he smiled and she gave him a jammy kiss.

"Looks like the party's breaking up," Brooke said.

"What can I say? We're boring old men," Barry smiled, pulling out his American Express card. "This is for everyone and please add a twenty five percent tip for yourself; you've really been terrific tonight."

"Well, thank you so much!" Brooke smiled happily. "And congratulations again. I just love weddings."

"Oh yeah?" Barry asked her. "Well, father of the bride needs a date, don't you, Ed?"

"Well I uh," Ed stammered, caught off guard.

"Father of the bride asking?" Brooke smiled at the cute red head.

"Damn right the father's asking!" Ed finally found his voice.

"What time's the wedding?" Brooke asked.

"This Saturday eleven thirty, St. Thomas Aquinas; reception immediately after in the hall," Barry said.

"All right, just got to switch my shift; normally I got Saturday day when my ex's got the kids," Brooke agreed.

"Kids?" Barry asked. "How many you got? You can't be more than eighteen, huh?"

"Twenty three," Brooke smiled. "And I have two daughters; one's fixing be five and the other's three, going to be four in about four months."

"Babies having babies," Barry shook his head.

"Miss Rosie; need to switch to Saturday night; that all right?" Brooke asked the heavy set bar owner.

"What? Yeah, thought Graham had Star and Luna this Saturday," Rosy shrugged. "But hey, I know Melinda won't bitch too much."

Brooke ran Barry's credit card, added her tip, and then brought the charge slip and card back to him.

"Thank you again and Ed, I'll see you what? About eleven?" Brooke said, handing Ed a slip of paper with her name, number, and address.

"Ow! Ed! You dog!" Michael slapped the hotly blushing Ed on the back.

"Thank you again, ma'am," Barry smiled, signing the charge slip.

"No, thank you," Brooke smiled and blew a playful kiss at Ed.

Chapter 22

Ed frowned when a strange phone number popped up on his screen, debated for a moment whether to let it go to voice mail or not, then answered it. With Caitlin's wedding just under twenty four hours away, he just didn't know if it would be someone involved with the wedding.

His eyes again filled with tears. His girl, his baby girl was getting married.

"Hello?" he croaked.

"Um, hi? Ed? Hi, this is Brooke. Robertson?" a feminine voice warbled.

"Oh, hey!" Ed cheerfully said, then lost his smile. "Hey, you um, you ain't changed your mind, huh?"

"Huh? No, no, well, maybe," Brooke said. "Graham? My Ex? He's supposed to be getting the kids tonight, but just called, says something came up so I got the girls this weekend; that going to be a problem? I mean, I know this is kind of last minute; swear to God Graham does this shit to me all the time."

"I don't know," Ed said honestly. "Let me call Caitlin and I'll call you right back."

"I mean, I understand if it is; last minute and all, Brooke said.

"Call you right back," Ed promised.

"Hello?" a tearful Caitlin answered on the second ring.

"Aw, don't you start that crying; I'm already crying enough for the both of us," Ed tried to joke but felt a tear trickle down.

"Oh Daddy," Caitlin started to wail.

"No, no, no, no, don't, don't, I need to know something," Ed said, trying to talk over her wails. "My Date? She's got two little girls; it all right if we bring them too?"

"Two little; how old are they?" Caitlin sniffled.

"Um, five and three I think; yeah, five and three," Ed said.

"Oh my God, oh Daddy; you're a life saver!" Caitlin screamed, temporarily deafening her father. "Megan and Britney both got the measles and we need a flower girl and a ring bearer you think they'll do it?"

"I'll see," Ed said.

"Hello?" Brooke asked, picking up on the first ring.

"Think your little girls would like to be a ring bearer and a flower girl?" Ed asked.

"I think they'd love it," Brooke happily agreed.

Graham Johnson, the owner's son, walked by, chatting happily into his cell phone.

"Yeah, no, no, told the stupid cunt I can't get her fucking brats tonight," Graham chortled. "And she's all like 'oh but I got plans' and I'm like 'tough-ski shit-ski."

Ed called Caitlin back and she again deafened him temporarily.

"Okay, you got to pick up the dresses at Babbage's; they're in the Bridal Boutique on the first floor, oh, you'll love it, it's right by the lingerie," Caitlin prattled. "And the shoes are on the second floor; just tell them it's for the Weinstein wedding."

Ed called Brooke, relayed what he could remember of the information, and then hung up.

"Hey, Graham," Ed called out.

"Yeah?" Graham sneered.

The man was almost thirty five, but still affected the mannerisms and attitudes of a teenager. He held Ed, Nine, and Estelle, the cashier of the store in low regard. They were, after all, just employees whereas he, Graham Johnson, was the owner's son, and the store assistant manager.

"Need to take the rest of the day off," Ed said calmly.

"What? Why?" Graham snapped.

"Daughter's wedding," Ed said.

"Oh. Well, need you come in tomorrow," Graham ordered.

"No can do," Ed said. "Remember? My daughter's wedding is tomorrow."

"Fuck! But I'm going sailing!" Graham whined. "We're taking the boat out tonight!"

"Tough-ski shit-ski," Ed smiled.

"Fucking ass hole," Graham snarled.

"Takes one to know one," Ed said calmly and walked out of the rear of the store.

At Superior Motors, Jack made a ticking sound as Barry leaned against his desk, watching traffic drive past.

"Hear that?" Jack said.

"Hear what?" Barry looked around.

"That's the sound of those last seconds of freedom slipping away," Jack said.

Barry laughed and shook his head.

"You're just in a bad mood because Bob's working on Berta's car and you had to get Dr. Biltmore's Astin Martin," Barry said.

"And what a pain in the hiney," Jack agreed.

"Uh huh, give me some of them peanut butter cups," Barry said as Jack popped open his jar of peanut butter cups.

Eight miles north-east, just off of Highway 19, Stacy Falgout felt like crying. She'd made two sales, one for eighty nine thousand and one for seventy thousand even; three percent of one hundred and fifty nine thousand was a pretty good chunk of change for roughly less than one week's work. But she was miserable.

"Our Troubles, we think, of our own making..." Stacy's A.A. sponsor had quoted to her.

That was of little comfort as Stacy listened to Anita Lopez and Toni Delacroix chatter excitedly about what would go where in their new storefront. A man she had wasted four years of her life with was getting married tomorrow. He was happy, he was moving on, and she was miserable.

"Address is Kimble, but we're actually in unincorporated St. Ann," Stacy said but neither girl was listening to her.

"We'll do the closing for both at Richards, Pellichet, and Jones on Wednesday," Stacy pasted a smile on her face as the two girls walked to the door.

"By the way," Stacy asked as Anita prepared to unlock her car door. "Um, why'd y'all ask me to sell you this?"

"Like what do you mean?" Toni asked.

"Yeah, we told you, Barry wants to start working on that Bentley of his," Anita said.

"No, no, I mean, me. There's all kind of real estate agents out there; why'd y'all ask for me?" Stacy asked.

"Well, like, when we told Daddy he said we needed get you to help us," Toni shrugged.

"Yeah, Mr. Barry said you're the best at this stuff and would make sure we get what we needed," Anita shrugged.

Stacy ducked her head and got into her Jaguar and drove off.

"Was she crying?" Anita asked Toni.

"Kind of looked like it, huh?" Toni agreed. "Come on; O'Neil's like having this big sale. Let's go see what they got."

"We are not getting that ugly wagon wheel table," Anita said firmly.

"Then what about that marble one?" Toni bargained.

"For fifteen hundred?" Anita asked, incredulous.

"I just cannot believe, like Caitlin's getting married tomorrow," Toni said as Anita waited for a pick up truck to pass before pulling out of the parking lot.

Ed looked at the address Brooke had written down, found the apartment complex and looked around. Even as beat up as his truck was, he still locked it; the neighborhood looked run-down.

"Hi!" Brooke smiled up at him when he knocked on a flimsy looking door.

He smirked down at her and she immediately slapped his arm.

"Yes, I know, go ahead and say it; I'm short," she smiled.

Without the five inch heels, Brooke stood at five feet, one inches tall. She was wearing a pair of flip flops that looked as if they'd seen better days, had on a long tee shirt that hid her cut off blue jeans from sight, and had her long blonde hair pulled back in a pony-tail.

"He's here?" a little girl squealed out.

"Yes he's here, go tell Luna," Brooke called out.

"She's in the bathroom," the miniature version of Brooke said, craning to look up at Ed. "We really going to Babbage's? Momma says we can't even afford the socks there."

"Oh shit," Brooke said and made a dash for the bathroom door.

"Yes ma'am; we're really going to Babbage's; Hi, I'm Mr. Ed. What's your name?" Ed smiled.

"I'm Star Robertson," Star said.

"And this mess is Luna Robertson," Brooke said, carrying another miniature version of herself.

"Well, um, it's a bench seat; I'm really not sure..." Ed said.

"We'll take my car," Brooke said, pulling the door of the apartment shut.

"You eat yet?" Brooke asked as they got the two girls into the car seats in the rear seat of the car.

"No, no, you know what? I sure haven't," Ed said.

"We just love going to Clark's," Brooke said.

"Ooh, where them girls go real fast on them skates?" Star called out.

"That's it," Brooke agreed.

Ed wiggled around on the seat; it was wet from something. Judging from the smell, there was a crack in the window's seal and the seat was probably mildewed.

"I'll get this," Ed said.

"Three corn dogs, small fries, three small fruit punch," Brooke said to the girl that skidded to a stop next to their car.

"Can you skate backward?" Star asked the girl.

"Yeah, can you skate backward real fast?" Luna echoed.

"Double bacon burger, large fries, coke," Ed said.

""You have to help me eat them fries," Ed said to Brooke.

"Ooh, look! She's doing it!" Luna cried out as the car hop did indeed skate backward for a moment, smiling at them.

Ed watched as Brooke divided up the fries and helped each girl with their corn dogs and drinks before finally eating her own.

"Thanks," she said as she stuffed several of his French fries into her mouth.

He smiled, noticing that she devoured most of his French fries.

At Babbage's, Ed made Brooke smile gratefully when he offered to carry Star.

"Hey!" Star squealed when Ed put her over his shoulder.

"What? That's not how you carry little girls?" Ed asked.

"No!" Star cried out.

"Oh. How about like this?" Ed asked and moved to dangle Star by her feet.

"No!" Star squealed.

"Then by your pony-tail?" Ed asked.

"No, no, Mr. Ed, like this," Brooke said, smiling as she cradled Luna on her hip.

"Oh!" Ed said and did so.

Brooke smiled as Ed took her free hand in his free hand.

"Hi, here uh, for the ring bearer and flower girl dresses for the Weinstein wedding?" Ed told Nicole Dumas, face still burning from having to walk through the lingerie section.

Nicole grabbed two violet dresses from a rack, looked at Star and Luna, put one dress back then grabbed another one.

"Let's try these on," Nicole said.

"Coming, Mr. Ed?" Brooke teased Ed.

"Hey, you saw how much trouble I had carrying little girls; you really think I know how to dress one?" Ed smiled.

"He thought you carry little girls by their feet," Star told Nicole.

"Yes, my Daddy thought the same thing too," Nicole said.

A moment later, both girls came out and modeled the dresses for Ed and he told them both that they were absolutely beautiful.

"Um, how much are these?" he asked Nicole.

"Mrs. St. Martin's already paid for them" Nicole smiled as the two girls bounded out of the dressing room, back in their shorts and tee shirts.

They rode the escalator, again, Ed carrying Star and Brooke holding the smaller Luna.

"Mommy says we can't afford the socks here," Star told the salesgirl in the shoe department.

"Well, who can?" the girl agreed and found the patent leather shoes for the girls.

Ed watched as Brooke looked at a child's shoe, looked at the price and quickly put it back down again.

"Okay, let's see if you can walk in those," Ed said to Luna.

"I want to jump," Luna said.

"Oh, okay, let's see if you can jump in them," Ed agreed.

Brooke smiled and took Ed's hand in hers.

"Whee!" the salesgirl agreed as Luna jumped a few times.

"Star? Can you jump in yours?" Ed asked as he felt around Luna's foot to check the fit of the shoe.

"And, guess what?" Ed told the two girls when they had their tennis shoes back on.

"What?" Star and Luna said.

"Now we need to get socks," Ed smiled and both girls thought that was just too funny.

"Okay, now, we put Star in the trunk and these bags in the car seat, right?" Ed asked.

"No!" Star squealed as her mother opened the trunk of the car.

"You um, there's two little girls need to take them a nap, You uh I can make us some coffee?" Brooke asked when they returned to the dilapidated apartment complex.