Zinnias by JimBob44,JimBob44

*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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“God damn it, okay, Briah, what makes you think I know how fix this piece of shit car?” the woman was yelling at a cute girl as they stood in the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store parking lot.

Randy Wilson paused his stroll from pickup truck to front door of the grocery store when he heard the woman’s tired complaints. He watched as she struggled to open the hood of the old car; Randy wasn’t sure what make and model or the age of the rust bucket might be. It was an American automobile, the pride of a bygone Detroit era.

The girl appeared to be nine or ten years old. There was a boy approximately the same age standing by the girl; obviously her brother. Both kids had the same light brown hair and deep brown eyes and haggard expressions on their cute faces.

The woman, all Randy could see of the woman was her sweet bubble butt and her thick legs and round hips as she bent, trying to figure out how to open the hood. Randy did like those thick legs and round ass. He liked her denim cutoffs and the few tendrils of brown pubic hair he could see as he approached them.

“Hi. Mind if I take a look?” Randy asked.

“I yeah, go ahead,” Heather Aucoin sighed, exasperated.

“Okay, first off, what’s it doing or not doing?” Randy asked as he deftly opened the hood.

“Whoa! How’d you do that?” the girl asked, amazed.

“Right here? There’s a latch,” Randy pointed, showing Briah Aucoin where the latch was. “Push it up and the hood pops open.”

“Cool!” the boy smiled.

“It, it just kind of grinds,” Heather said, soft brown eyes begging with Randy to perform a miracle and get her car started.

“All right, mm hmm, and, go ahead and see?” Randy asked as he fiddled with the engine.

Heather scampered to the driver’s door and opened the car.

After a moment, the car gave a reluctant gurgle, cough, then started. Randy moved the rod aside and verified that neither child had their hands near the hood. He slammed the hood shut and gave the woman a wave before walking to the store.

“Hey, Mister,” Randy heard as he was looking over the selection of honey crisp apples.

“Yeah?” Randy smiled at the cute girl.

“My momma said give you this,” Briah smiled, handing him a piece of paper.

‘Heather Aucoin’ and a phone number was on the piece of paper.

“Tell your momma thank you and I’ll call her tonight,” Randy smiled.

The girl gave him a big smile and giggle before scampering away. Randy smiled as he continued to pore over the selection of apples. The kids had been dressed in clean clothing. A little plain, and their feet had been shoved into cheap tennis shoes, but they’d been clean, their clothes had been clean.

The mother was a little on the chunky side, had her some meat on them bones, Randy’s Uncle Jack would have said.

Uncle Jack wasn’t really his uncle. He’d been a good man that had seen a pretty woman with a rebellious adolescent boy and had done his best to lift both mother and son up. Janice Wilson had been grateful, and Randy had just been surly and obnoxious.

And when that surly and obnoxious attitude and behavior had put Randy behind bars, serving five to eight years in Stratton Medium Security Penitentiary, Uncle Jack drove Janice the ninety four miles from Oakleaf, Texas to Stratton every other month so she could visit Randy. Uncle Jack never spoke down to Randy, never disparaged Randy. He did point out to the no longer arrogant young man that the penal system had programs designed to help Randy and encouraged Randy to take advantage of these programs while he was behind bars.

“Shit, boy, not like you got anything else to do, huh?” Uncle Jack said.

So, Randy obtained his GED while behind bars. Then he studied welding. The Alejandro Lopez Grant, set up by Senor Alejandro Miguel Lopez, Jr. in his father’s memory paid for the training, with the state of Texas matching the grant dollar for dollar. Thanks to the training, as well as keeping his nose clean, Randy was released three years and four months after entering the prison. The grant did not stop after the bars clanged shut behind the freed prisoner; they helped Randy secure employment with a factory that fabricated frames for vending machines in Lowridge, Texas.

Hey, Wilson,” the shop floor manager called out one morning. “Holmes wants to see you.”

Watson Holmes was the owner of the factory; Randy wondered why the man would want to see him. Other than his first day on the job, Randy had never spoken with the man.

In the man’s cluttered office, Randy wasn’t even offered a seat. He was simply told of an opportunity to go to work for a company out of Baylor Lake, Louisiana that provided welders for off-shore oil rigs. Watson had noted Randy’s attention to detail, so had recommended Randy for the job.

“When do I start?” Randy asked and Mr. Holmes smiled.

Chris Fontenot was a good man to work for, as long as you worked. Chris was quick to weed out any slackers, or any people that didn’t know what they were doing. Hard work was rewarded. Chris recognized those that put in the effort, and recognized those that were trying to look as if they were putting in the effort. Working with Fontenot Equipment & Services, Randy was making a good, honest living.

Now, two years after being released from Stratton, Randy had a pickup truck, a nice apartment in the Magnolia Courtyard Apartments and a woman’s phone number in his pocket. His cell phone had a few numbers, a few fuck buddies he could call whenever the mood struck him. If the first number was unavailable, Randy would just move on to the next one in line.

That night, ice cold St. Elizabeth Lager in hand, Randy did call Heather Aucoin. She teased him about butchering her last name; apparently he was not from around here.

“OH kwah(n),” Heather giggled.

“Oh what? How you get OH kwah(n) out of Aw coin?” Randy laughed.

They agreed that Randy would come over the next night for smothered chicken, a way of thanking him for fixing her car. Randy did not say anything about Heather’s address being a trailer park; he’d grown up in a trailer park.

Calling his mother, Randy got her to give him her apple crumb cake recipe. Uncle Jack wanted to hear about Randy’s shift on the oil rig; Uncle Jack was fascinated by the act of drilling for oil off-shore, in open waters.

Heather Aucoin’s trailer was similar to Heather Aucoin’s automobile. Randy hoped the steps would hold him as he stepped onto them. The door was weathered and splintering and gave a hollow ‘thunk’ when he knocked on it.

“Hi,” a cute girl answered.

“Hi; you’re Briah?” Randy guessed.

Over the phone, Heather had told Randy of her three children; Briah, the oldest was nine years old; Farley, the next in line was eight, and Danielle, Dani, was five years old. All three were out of school for the summer break and Heather couldn’t wait for school to start in a few weeks so that she could get a break.

The girl giggled and Randy saw that it was not Briah, but Farley. He smiled and shrugged and asked if he could come in or did Farley want to air condition the entire neighborhood?

“Mom! That cute guy’s here,” Farley called out.

“Well? Tell that cute guy come in,” Heather yelled in reply.

“Hi, I’m that cute guy,” Randy said to a cute girl that ran into the living room to see who their guest was.

“Hi,” Danielle smiled before running away again.

“Hi, it’s just about ready,” Heather smiled from the stove.

Randy smiled; Heather had obviously put on some makeup and had teased her soft brown hair a bit. She’d also put on a somewhat shapeless sundress; a yellow dress with blue flowers.

“Whenever Mom puts on makeup, I get to put it on too,” Farley informed their guest.

“Makes sense,” Randy agreed. “Why should she get all the fun, right?”

“I know!” Farley agreed, delighted with Randy’s response.

“Hi,” Briah said.

“Hi; and before you call me ‘that cute guy,’ my name is Randy,” Randy said, seeing that Briah also wore cosmetics on her pretty face. “Randy Wilson.”

“Hi Mr. Randy,” Farley said. “What’s that?”

“This? This is my mother’s world famous apple crumb cake,” Randy said, placing the aluminum foil pan onto the table.

“Now, you didn’t have do that,” Heather protested, smiling.

The meal was good and the conversation was lively. All three children favored their mother in looks and in temperament. She was a soft spoken woman; Randy could sense a subservient streak in her. That same streak seemed to extend to her children. They had very little in the way of toys, or of extravagances. There was a large tube television that stayed silent the entire time Randy was in their trailer. He noticed there was no gaming console system or even a DVD player hooked up to the antiquated behemoth.

“So, why you got no hair?” Farley braved asking Randy and Heather cleared the dishes and got out five plates for the apple crumb cake.

“Farley! That’s rude,” Heather admonished the boy.

“Sorry,” Farley immediately apologized.

“Um, Miss Aw coin, I don’t mind telling him,” Randy said, draining his can of Gratchley’s beer.

“I told you,” it’s…” Heather giggled.

“No, no, Mister Randy,” all three children said, then told him how to pronounce their last name.

After the crumb cake disappeared, they played a board game; Life. Then Briah was asked to please get Dani ready for bed, then help Farley take off his makeup.

While the three children were occupied, Heather and Randy sat on her lopsided couch and made out. Randy’s exploring hands discovered that Heather wore no undergarments underneath the sundress. After he fingered her to orgasm, Heather fished his cock out and performed a very noisy and wet blow job. She was delighted to discover that his head was not the only shaved part of his body.

Randy visited the Aucoin trailer one more time during his seven days on dry land. He took the four Aucoins to a miniature golf course then to Jade Garden Chinese restaurant. Randy worked with Briah and Farley, showing them how to eat with chopsticks. Even the waitress, normally quite surly and rude, did smile as the five people laughed and squealed and enjoyed themselves.

Once at their trailer again, Heather sent her three children to their rooms as she pulled an unresisting Randy to her bedroom. In her bedroom, Heather stripped, displaying a pleasingly plump body to Randy. They performed sixty nine; Randy managed to tongue Heather to two orgasms before she coaxed his first ejaculation from his cock. The entire time he’d been lapping at her fragrant pussy, Randy had been fingering both pussy and ass.

“Okay, I, oh, oh God, I, there’s some lube right there,” Heather wheezed as she pulled her chubby buttocks open with her small hands. “You need stick that big dick up my ass, hear?”

Randy used two fingers to grease Heather’s anus and then greased up his cock. Heather grunted, whimpered and groaned as Randy slowly pushed himself into her incredibly tight ass. She barked and shuddered in orgasm as Randy slowly, forcefully fucked her jiggling ass. She barked in orgasm as Randy spurted his load into her clutching bowels.

As they lay in post-coital bliss, Heather quietly mentioned how grateful she was that Randy had not mocked Farley for wearing makeup during their family outing. Randy didn’t say anything; he’d thought it was fairly ridiculous that Heather had allowed Briah and Danielle to wear makeup. In his opinion, none of the children were old enough for cosmetics.

“What?” Randy shrugged. “Like he told me, when Momma wears makeup, he gets to wear it too.”

The following morning, Randy pulled up to the job site with moments to spare. He got on the boat and promptly fell asleep for the boat ride from dock to rig.

Randy was pleased with the warm reception he received when he was back on dry land. Heather quickly agreed to a date that would take her and the three ‘urchins’ out for pizza and then to the video game arcade. Randy did mention that the pizza parlor and adjoining arcade would have many children; she might wish to curtail Farley, or Briah and Danielle using any cosmetics.

Either Heather did not believe Randy, or the children prevailed; all three children wore rouge and eye shadow and lip gloss. They even had painted their fingernails a very noticeable blood red color.

Some boys taunted Farley for his use of makeup. The sight of an unsmiling Randy showing up and standing behind Farley quickly stopped the taunting. Soon after, the five decided to return to their trailer.

“You know, my apartment’s got a swimming pool,” Randy suggested as he and Heather entered her bedroom.

“Oh?” Heather asked, wiggling out of snug jeans.

“There’s even a couple of them charcoal grills,” Randy said. “Why don’t we do a little swimming party tomorrow?”

“No makeup required,” Randy thought as he pressed his greasy cock to Heather’s shiny anus.

Required or not, the four Aucoins did have on makeup. And Farley wore a one piece girl’s bathing suit, a suit that matched the one piece suit his mother wore. Randy was slightly distressed at the bikinis Briah and Danielle wore; he wondered where Heather had found such inappropriate swimwear for the girls.

Thankfully, most of the residents of the apartment complex were at work; it was the middle of the week. Randy started up the charcoals while Heather and her brood swam about in the small, overly chlorinated pool.

When he took off his tee shirt to join them in the pool, Briah, Farley, and Danielle became goggle-eyed at the diamondback rattlesnake tattoo that covered most of Randy’s back. The artistry the inmate had put into the very colorful, coiled and dangerous snake was truly breathtaking. When they asked him where he got his tattoo, Randy told them it was from his time in prison.

“My dad’s in prison,” Farley said.

“Oh yeah?” Randy asked.

“Uh huh,” Briah agreed. “What it was, Momma? Armed robbery?”

“Briah,” Heather said, tone and facial expression telling her children that she did not want to talk about their father’s incarceration.

After their meal, Randy herded them up the stairs to his one bedroom apartment. As they lolled on the couch and recliner, Farley on the floor watching ‘the animated Ice Age’ on Randy’s flat screen television, Heather whispered in Randy’s ear that his apartment had no place for adults to get some privacy. Randy whispered that not every date had to have sex in order to be an enjoyable date.

Four months after he had helped Heather in the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store parking lot, Randy had deleted the phone numbers of his fuck buddies from his phone. Then Randy broached the idea of them moving in together. His plan was to move Briah, Farley, and Danielle out of their current school district and over to the Baylor Lake school district. One teacher at Andrew Jackson Elementary School had been arrested for sexual misconduct and possession of child pornography and two cafeteria workers and a custodian had been arrested for possession of schedule IV narcotics with intent to distribute. Moving them to Baylor Lake would put the three children into William C. C. Claiborne elementary school.

“Uh, Sweetheart, your apartment isn’t big enough for all five of us,” Heather reminded Randy.

“No, but there’s a house on Tallow Road’s got four bedrooms,” Randy said. “Can put Farley in his own room, Briah and Danielle can have their own room, and we’ll figure out where you go later on, okay?”

“Uh huh, better figure real quick,” Heather giggled happily. “I love you, know that?”

The house was unanimously approved of by Randy, Heather, and Briah and Farley and Danielle. The next time Randy was in from off-shore, Randy filled out all the paperwork and was officially a home owner.

Uncle Jack drove Janice to help Randy move. Truthfully, both Jack and Janice wanted to meet Heather and her children.

“Mm, Sweetheart? Uh, exactly how old is she?” Janice asked when Heather was out of earshot.

“Okay, she got two girls? Or three?” Jack asked as the three Aucoin children sat at the kitchen table, making Christmas tree ornaments.

“Farley’s just kind of going through a phase,” Randy excused Farley’s painted fingernails and long hair. “And I think Heather’s thirty one or thirty two; why?”

“Hmm,” was Janice’s response.

“Hmm,” was Jacks response.

“Hmm,” was Jack and Janice’s response when Randy let them know he planned to ask Heather to marry him?

Both Jack and Janice were very gracious in accepting Farley’s origami Christmas tree ornaments he’d made for his new grandmother and grandfather. Both also accepted his loving hugs as they prepared to leave the warm, lively home.

“And in the summer? I’ll bring you some zinnias from my garden,” Janice said to Heather, pointing to the weed-cjpked flower bed in front of the house.

“That’ll be Randy’s job; I have a black thumb,” Heather said.

“Ooh, I’ll take care of them,” Farley enthused.

“Well, there you go, Mother,” Randy smiled. “Farley will take care of the flowers.”

“I, I’m sure he will,” Janice smiled a tight smile.

Christmas Day, Briah and Farley were delighted, amazed at the expense Santa Claus had gone to in giving them gifts. Danielle seemed to take the largesse in stride; she obviously didn’t remember the meager Christmas season of even one year ago. Randy was off-shore for Christmas but smiled when he returned to dry land; there were numerous text messages from Briah and Farley. Danielle also left him a text message telling him ‘Merry Christmas’ but as far as she was concerned, Santa Claus was whom should get the credit for her new bicycle.

“Mr. Randy, you teach me how ride this?” Farley begged when Randy entered the two story home.

“Aw you know it buddy,” Randy said, hugging the scrawny boy.

“And me?” Briah begged, hand on her new mountain bike.

“Absolutely,” Randy said. “All right, your hands go down here, on these pedal things, and your feet go on the seat and…”

“Mr. Randy! That’s not right!” Briah and Farley both squealed and laughed.

“Hey you,” Heather said, giving her man a tight embrace. “They been dying for you to get home.”

“What ’bout you? You been dying?” Randy asked, giving her chubby backside a good squeeze before shrugging his heavy coat on again.

“You know it,” Heather agreed, pulling on her own winter coat. “And, thank you for the coat; it’s beautiful.”

“Beautiful’s nice, but how about is it warm enough?” Randy asked, helping Danielle button her coat.

“Mm hmm,” Heather agreed.

“Farley, no sir, you need to put that helmet on,” Randy ordered as Farley opened the front door of the home.

“Aw come on; it messes up my hair,” Farley whined.

“Know what else really messes up your hair? A car’s bumper,” Randy said. “Good God, boy; who? Who’s going see you with messed up hair?”

“Well, you,” Farley admitted.

“Oh. Well, still; you need to put your helmet on,” Randy said.

By the time Briah and Farley tired of trying to learn how to ride a bicycle, Randy was exhausted. His legs and his feet hurt from running up and down Tallow Road, running alongside a terrified, agitated Briah and a tearful Farley. But after putting their new bicycles into the garage, both children declared they would be experts by the next day.

“I bet you will; what’s for supper?” Randy asked.

Chili pie,” Heather announced.

“Oh boy,” Randy smiled; chili pie was a specialty of Heather’s.

On New Year’s Eve, Randy, Farley and Briah stood outside in the brutal cold, shooting off fireworks. Every now and then, Heather and Danielle would bring out mugs of hot chocolate, but both Heather and Danielle declared they had too much sense to stand outside in the bitter cold. Randy made Heather squeal and Farley and Briah and Danielle laugh when he put his cold nose on her throat.

And at the stroke of midnight, among the loud barrage of fireworks up and down their street, and in surrounding Baylor Lake neighborhoods, Randy presented Heather Aucoin with an engagement ring. Her beautiful eyes opened wide and her pretty mouth hung open. Unable to speak, she simply nodded her head in agreement.

The next time Randy was in from off-shore, they had Shannon Brown, the nineteen year old daughter of the neighbors across the street come and babysit so that Heather and Randy could go out, could have some adult fun. Shannon was stunningly beautiful, with calf-length whitish blonde hair and large brown eyes. Her round face was highlighted by her plump lips that seemed to be perpetually pink and shiny.

The five foot one inch beauty was blessed with 30D breasts and Shannon seemed to be allergic to bras. Even Heather mentioned Shannon’s hard nipples poking against her soft flannel shirt. Her waist was narrow and her buttocks were round and well-formed from hours of bicycling.

“So, where are you going?” Shannon breathed in her soft voice as she shrugged out of her heavy coat.

“Side By Side, then Vermillion’s got an Amateur Comedy show,” Randy smiled.

“Oh, Mrs. Wilson! You’re so lucky,” Shannon breathed.

“Not Wilson yet,” Heather smiled and kissed Randy as he assisted in putting her coat on.

“Oh! But, oh, okay, oh! You have a swimming pool?” Shannon said, then spotted the in-ground swimming pool through the rear atrium doors.

“Uh huh, but it’s too cold for that,” Farley informed the beautiful teenager.

“And is that, that’s eye shadow? You’re wearing eye shadow? With a tee shirt?” Shannon asked the boy. “Oh no. Come on; we need to find you a better top than that.”

“Okay, I think she’ll do just fine,” Heather tittered and they left the house.

In Farley’s eyes, Shannon Brown earned every penny Randy paid to her for the four and a half hours of babysitting. Briah also liked the pretty, friendly teenager, and Danielle had liked her too. But Farley was smitten and asked Mr. Randy when they planned to go out on another date, when was Shannon coming over again?

As a cyclist, Shannon was a big help in teaching Farley, and to some extent Briah and Danielle as well. She refused Randy’s offer of money; she was a neighbor and neighbors needed to help neighbors.

When Randy suggested Manny’s Mexican restaurant, then bowling at the Bowl-O-Rama, Farley begged for them to invite Shannon along.

“We’ll pay you just like it’s a babysitting job,” Randy whispered into the cell phone.

“You will not,” Shannon whispered in reply. “It’s a date.”

“You can’t tell me her momma let her out of the house like that,” Heather complained into Randy’s ear; the tight sweater made Shannon’s bra-less condition very apparent.

“Know what? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Kathy with a bra on either,” Randy mused, speaking of Shannon’s mother.

“You looked?” Heather complained, lightly slapping Randy’s arm.

“So, Mr. Randy, why you shave your head?” Shannon purred, even rubbing her small hand along Randy’s head. “You not going bald, huh?”

“In Stratton? They had a big problem with lice,” Randy said bluntly. “Even with the de-lousing stuff they sprayed us down with, lice got into everything. So, we shaved it off.”

“EVERYTHING?” Shannon asked, big eyes flickering down to Randy’s crotch.

“None of your business,” Heather said tersely.

The triumphant smile the girl wore did not set well with Heather. But Farley distracted both women by his clumsy attempt at flirting with Shannon. The waitress bringing their food discouraged any further conversation.

At the bowling alley, Heather decided they would be two teams; Mr. Randy and Mommy and Danielle against Shannon, Briah, and Farley. The six of them had a terrific time, teasing, taunting, and encouraging one another. And as they dropped Shannon off at her house, the teenager again refused to take any money from Randy.

“Everything?” Heather cooed breathlessly into Randy’s ear as they lay in their bed after getting Briah and Farley and Danielle into bed.

“Everything. Want to see?” Randy laughed, kissing Heather.

“Oh Mr. Randy! You DO shave everything!” Heather squealed in a breathless little voice as she stroked Randy’s cock in her small hand.

In their bedtime whispering and cuddling, Heather let it slip that neither Damien nor Donnie, Damien’s father were Briah’s father. In truth, Heather was certain that Donnie, Damien’s father was actually the father of both Farley and Danielle; Damien had been in Mumphrey, serving eight to twelve for a burglary that had resulted in bodily harm to the victim of the burglary when Farley was conceived. As for Danielle, either Damien or Donnie could have fathered the sweet child, but given the date of Danielle’s birth, Donnie was most likely her father.

“I, this, this David McMahon, Briah know about her daddy?” Randy asked.

“No. I, why?” Heather asked.

“And this David guy, he a con like Damien or Donnie?” Randy pressed.

“Donnie wasn’t, no, no David, he’s, he’s a good guy. Got a job and everything,” Heather admitted.

“Oh. Oh, hey wait a minute! I got a job! That mean I’m a good guy?” Randy asked, smiling.

“You? Hmm. I don’t know ’bout that,” Heather teased.

“Seriously, Briah, you don’t think she needs to know ’bout her Daddy? I mean, supposed something happens and she needs some medical information or something?” Randy pressed.

Heather kept promising she would contact David, would let David know about his child. Seven days, from Tuesday afternoons to Tuesday mornings did not give Randy any window of opportunity to press Heather about the issue. There was always something else that needed their immediate attention.

Spring finally started to make its presence known. Randy found himself cleaning the pool, prepping the pool, telling Briah and Farley and Danielle it was still too damned cold to go swimming. He also found himself cutting the grass, a job he absolutely loathed.

And Heather was in full wedding planning phase. She spent much time on her cell phone with Janice, Randy’s mother, deciding this and that. Janice still did not fully endorse her son’s relationship with a woman nine to ten years older than Randy, and did not like Randy stepping into a ready-made family. But she did appreciate Heather’s desire to include her in the planning stages.

“And that boy of yours, boy’s a sweetheart,” Uncle Jack told Randy. “Damned near every time that Heather’s on the phone with your mom, Farley’s got talk with your mom too.”

“Yeah, he’s a good boy,” Randy agreed.

April 27th, Randy wasn’t fully in the door before Briah and Farley and Danielle were demanding to go swimming. When Randy affirmed with their mother, he gave his consent.

“Where’s he going?” Randy asked Heather when Farley ran out the front door rather than up the stairs.

“Where you think? Swimming pool? Means bathing suits? Bathing suits means we need get that Shannon Brown over here,” Heather said, pretty mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste.

“Oh? Think we need get her momma over here too?” Randy teased and laughed at Heather’s bark of indignation.

Just as Briah and Danielle thundered down the stairs, Farley raced back into the house. He whooped that Shannon was coming right over as he pounded up the stairs.

“Seriously, you can’t get him no other bathing suit?” Randy asked as Farley ran past, dressed in his one piece swimsuit.

“I COULD,” Heather said, walking to the front door when the doorbell chimed. “But, would he wear it?”

Shannon’s bikini of red and white peppermint stripes was stunning. Heather pinched Randy’s arm, hard when Randy looked just a little too long at the thong bottom, at Shannon’s sweetly rounded backside.

Heather wanted to pinch Shannon’s arm; actually, Heather wanted to scratch the girl’s eyes out as the girl gawked at Randy’s muscled chest and arms. Shannon’s gasp when she saw the coiled rattlesnake ready to strike on Randy’s back had Heather ready to punch the girl’s face to a bloody pulp.

“Okay, y’all can’t tell me this isn’t too cold,” Randy gasped as he swam to the ladder of the pool.

“No it’s not,” Briah declared.

“Briah! You got, your arms nothing but goose bumps,” Randy laughed but did swim a few laps.

He gave Danielle a tour of the pool on his back. Briah then wanted the same, so of course, Farley wanted a ride on Mr. Randy’s back.

“Don’t. Don’t even think about it,” Heather snarled at Shannon.

Shannon said nothing as she smiled sweetly at Heather. The girl then playfully ‘tackled’ Farley. Both Shannon and Farley then decided they’d tackle Briah.

“Hey; didn’t want to get in?” Randy asked, plopping onto the chaise lounge next to Heather.

“Oh? Well, unlike you, I got enough sense know it’s too damned cold,” Heather said.

“Okay, so, let’s have chili pie; you know they’re going be popsicles by the time they finally figure out they’re cold,” Randy suggested.

On May 18th, twenty five days before their wedding, Heather quietly told Randy that Damien had managed to somehow become paroled from Mumphrey State Penitentiary. Randy looked at her, a slow boil beginning to form in his gut.

Okay, I, I’m fixing go off-shore, need leave here in five minutes,” Randy said, hefting his heavy duffel bag. “You’re not going tell me you just found this all out just now, huh?”

“I, uh, um,” Heather stammered, unable to meet Randy’s eyes.

“We’ll talk about this when I get back,” Randy said. “My ass ain’t on that boat? My ass ain’t getting paid.”

The entire trip from Baylor Lake to the Industrial Canal, Randy fumed. He played and replayed the tape of Heather’s stammering declaration that somehow, her ex-boyfriend had managed to get a parole from Mumphrey. Randy did not think it was a coincidence that Heather just happened to make this announcement five minutes before he had to leave the house.

Randy wasn’t surprised that the house was deathly quiet when he returned on Tuesday, June 1st. He was surprised, livid at the stench of urine, though. He was also enraged at the numerous holes kicked into the walls, the smashed glasses and plates. The sight of his 54 inch LCD television lying on the floor, destroyed was also infuriating. Randy called 911 to report the vandalism.

Officer Rochelle Esposito came out and walked through the home with Randy. She took countless photographs with her digital camera, shaking her head at the callous and unnecessary carnage.

“Aww, well shit,” Randy sighed heavily when he saw that Briah’s and Danielle’s room was empty. Seeing Farley’s empty room hit him hard as well.

“Jesus, that, really?” Randy screamed, smelling his soiled bedding in the bedroom he and Heather had shared.

“Know what? Bet he’s going be real sorry he did that,” Officer Esposito offered, taking a photograph of the lumps of feces on the crisp white sheets. “He’s in our system? His DNA will show up in that.”

“And? According to Heather, he just got out of Mumphrey. Like he’s got any money pay for any of this?” Randy snapped.

The three bicycles were gone from the garage. Apparently, Damien had no ill will toward the washing machine or dryer, or the lawnmower; those had not been tampered with or sullied.

“Oh, hey, my, that’s my car,” Randy remembered, thinking about Heather’s 2008 Toyota Camry.

Truthfully, had Heather just taken the children’s’ things and her things and the car, Randy would have written it all off. He would still be quite sad, would still mourn the loss of the relationship with the beautiful woman, would mourn the loss of the relationship with her three beautiful children. But he would have let her keep the furniture, the clothing, the bicycles and the car.

But the wanton, immature and vindictive destruction of his home, the home he’d provided for them, Randy would not let this matter slide. This Damien Hebert would pay for this.

“She still have a key to this house?” Rochelle asked, still making notations on her tablet.

“Shit. Yeah, I guess; I mean, I don’t see her keys anywhere,” Randy said.

“Tried calling her?” Rochelle asked, preparing to put in the requisition for a DNA kit for the fecal matter in the master bedroom.

“”No, I sure haven’t,” Randy said, digging his cell phone out.

“Hell. Low,” a giggling man answered the phone.

“Damien, is that, give me my phone,” Randy heard Heather demand.

“Bitch, I’m talking here,” Randy heard just before the phone call was abruptly ended.

“Well, she hasn’t blocked my number,” Randy said to Rochelle.

“Give me,” Rochelle ordered, holding out her hand.

“Yeah? What you want, bitch,” Damien ordered.

“Sir, this is Officer Rochelle Esposito with the Baylor Lake Police Department. Where are you?” Rochelle snapped, using a very authoritative voice.

“Officer Ro…aw that pussy. That God damned pussy. He called the fucking…” Damien squealed, then ended the call.

It took less than forty minutes for the Baylor Lake Police Department to locate Damien Donald Hebert. He had listed his cousin’s address with Vanessa Leblanc, his probation officer. Baylor Lake Police Department asked the Kimble Police Department to pick up one Damien Donald Hebert.

The next morning Randy was sitting in the courtroom when Damien was brought into the courtroom. Randy’s heart broke again when he saw a haggard, defeated looking Heather standing and watching the procession of the men being herded into the courtroom.

“Mr. Randy! Hi!” Farley squealed and ran over to where Randy was seated.

“Hey Buddy, aw, hey, what happened to your hair?” Randy asked, then ran his hand over Farley’s new crew cut hairstyle.

“Dad made me cut it all off,” Farley said, face dark with anger.

“Hi Mr. Randy,” Danielle chirped.

“Aw, well, hell, it’ll grow back,” Randy assured the boy, giving him another hug. “Hi Danielle.”

“I, so why? Why’d you call the police?” Heather demanded bitterly, jerking Farley out of Randy’s embrace.

“Why’d, you, you’re joking right?” Randy goggled. “Your husband pissed all over the place, broke all my stuff, kicked holes in everything and you’re asking why? Bitch, you’re delusional, you hear?”

“He, no, no he didn’t,” Heather gasped, horrified.

“Then you mean, you’re the one done all that?” Randy snapped angrily. “Oh, and hey, where’s my ring, huh?”

“Your, I, I left the ring right there on your nightstand, in that dish,” Heather said.

“Then you need to find out where Damien has it,” Randy said, managing to give Danielle a quick hug.

“I, God. Just. God. God damn it, God damn it,” Heather chanted.

“Hi Mr. Randy; Momma, Daddy’s over there,” Briah informed Heather.

“Hi Sweetie,” Randy said, hugging Briah.

“You. You’re serious. You, he really done all…God damn it,” Heather mumbled now looking at the bloated balding Damien Donald Hebert as he glumly sat with the other prisoners in their orange jumpsuits.

When Damien was finally called to stand with the public defender, Judge Marie Robichaux shook her head. She listened to the list of charges from Kenneth Prejean, Jr. the Assistant District Attorney. The judge then turned and looked at Tanisha Brown-Jones, the public defender. Tanisha Brown-Jones simply said ‘not guilty,’ already looking for the paperwork for her next client.

“So now what we do?” Briah asked Heather as Damien was directed to once again sit with the other detainees.

“I, I guess we go on back to Robert’s,” Heather said.

“But I want to go with Mr. Randy,” Danielle said, loudly.

“Well, you can’t go with Mr. Randy,” Heather snapped bitterly, glaring at Damien.

Damien ignored his girlfriend and her three kids. He ignored everything; just sat and waited to be carted back to the Kimble Lockup.

“Guess you going back to Mumphrey, huh Hebert?” another detainee said.

“Yeah, I guess. Shit, ain’t like it’s no big deal,” Damien shrugged.

“Well, bet Snickle’s going be happy get his baby back, huh?” the other man giggled.

Janice, Randy’s mother tried to be supportive, but Randy could tell she was relieved that the wedding was cancelled. Uncle Jack was more sympathetic than Randy’s mother. And Uncle Jack’s commiserating about the loss of Briah and Farley and Danielle did twist the knife in Randy’s heart just a little more. With a heavy sigh, Randy reminded Uncle Jack he had some cleaning up to do.

Randy was busy carting sections of the carpet and padding out to the dumpster when Shannon whipped her carbon fiber 21 speed road bike around the corner. Her beautiful brown eyes opened wide as she saw her neighbor outside, large dumpster in the driveway.

“What happened? What are you doing?” Shannon demanded, pumping her brakes to coast to a stop.

“God damn, ought to be illegal ride around like that,” Randy thought, looking at the two perfect globes hanging out of Shannon’s red denim cutoff shorts.

Out loud, he told the beautiful nineteen year old girl that Heather’s old boyfriend had decided he’d ruin several thousands of dollars’ worth of carpet. Shannon asked how Randy knew it was Miss Heather’s old boyfriend.

“Because Heather and the kids moved out,” Randy said and Shannon gasped, brown eyes wide.

“Well, house ain’t going clean itself,” Randy sighed and walked to the garage again.

“They, they moved out?” Shannon demanded, walking her bicycle to the lip of the garage.

“Mm hmm, ‘fraid so,” Randy said.

Ten minutes later, Shannon entered the home through the garage. Randy saw that she now wore a snug tee shirt and some grubby, stained sweat pants. Her long blond hair was tied back and wrapped in a bandana. Her beautiful eyes took in the sight of the damage and she shook her head. Then she bent and began assisting Randy in tearing out the old carpet.

“What are you doing?” Randy asked as he hefted the other end of the strip of carpet.

“What you mean?” Shannon asked. “Oh, hey, where you planning on getting your carpet? Flooring XL, on Turner’s got the best. Well, I think it’s the best. Mom says she likes Waggamon’s, next to Wilson’s Fabrics, come on; this is getting heavy. Walk. She likes Waggamon’s because they do it next day, but believe me, you going pay for next day. You give me a key, I can let XL in if you’re off-shore when they come.”

“Oh?” Randy asked, amused at Shannon’s suggestion that he give her a key to the house.

“You keeping that couch? A nice green or brown, no, no, I seen this shag? Got beige and brown and real dark brown; that would look so pretty in here,” Shannon said as she grabbed the next section of carpet.

“Uh huh,” Randy said, watching Shannon’s nipples rub and rasp against the snug material of her tee shirt.

The nubs poked through the thin material of her tee shirt. When they stepped onto the driveway, out in the direct sunlight, Randy could see that Shannon’s areolae were a light brown, roughly the size of a half dollar coin. Her unfettered breasts jostled and jiggled when they swung the heavy carpet up and into the dumpster.

“You changing out that blue in Farley’s room? With his bunk bed, I bet a burgundy would be just right in his room,” Shannon said as she helped Randy move the bulky couch off of the last piece of carpeting.

“Sweetheart, they took the bunk beds with them,” Randy said, tears coming to his eyes.

“Oh. I, uh, oh,” Shannon said.

Randy shook his head when he saw the sly little smile play across Shannon’s lips. As he bent to the task of sweeping the bare concrete floor, he wondered what he would find if he actually did give the young woman a key to his home.

“You, uh, you think you going keep the walls this color?” Shannon asked as she now sauntered along the hall from living room to front door. “Oh, I bet that hurt; look. He hit the stud right here.”

“What color you think we ought do?” Randy asked, pouring some ammonia into a gallon of warm water.

“You do that carpet? A nice sand. Nothing too dark,” Shannon said. “Oh! You know what? A pale pink. You know, something really wake this area up.”

Now she walked around the kitchen and dining area, eyes sweeping over tiled floor and faux granite countertops and cabinets. Randy mopped the floor even as his eyes followed Shannon’s delectable rear end. The sweat pants were bulky and shapeless, but when she bent over to look at things, he could make out the shape of her luscious buttocks.

“In here? I’d go with an ice yellow; a demi-gloss,” Shannon offered. “You like these pulls? You pick out these chrome thingies? “I’d done brass, an antique brass especially with this color cabinets.”

“I’m being serious; you need get some color in here,” Shannon said as she completed her circuit of the downstairs area.

“Mm hmm,” Randy agreed, wringing the mop out again.

“So, got plans for supper?” Shannon asked, now strolling toward the open garage door.

“I, uh no, no, not really,” Randy admitted.

Making my killer sausage and linguini,” Shannon stated. “Mm, ’bout six thirty?”

“I need to bring anything?” Randy asked, amused.

“I like that Terlings Beer. Either barley or their wheat; either one’s good,” Shannon said and walked across the street. “Six thirty.”

“Yes ma’am,” Randy said and started wiping down the counters in the kitchen.

At five thirty, Randy shaved and showered. He found a nice button down shirt and a pair of khakis and his brown leather loafers.

He drove to the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and bought a six pack of Wheat Terlings and a six pack of Barley Terlings Beer. A quick check of the Internet directed him to a half gallon bottle of a red wine. There was a bit of a traffic jam on the next aisle, so Randy pushed his cart one more aisle over and saw a large selection of flowers.

“Flowers? At a grocery store?” Randy asked out loud.

“Way to a woman’s heart,” a Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store employee smiled.

“Not really her heart I’m worried about,” Randy thought to himself but picked up a Spring Flowers arrangement already in an attractive vase.

He found an arrangement of pink roses in a wide mouth vase and put that into his buggy as well. The store employee joked that most women would be happy with just one floral arrangement. She then asked Randy if he’d been a bad boy; was that why he needed two vases?

“You don’t worry ’bout it, hear?” he smiled and pushed the buggy toward a short line.

The older woman working the register seemed familiar to Randy and he greeted her with a pleasant smile. Penny Richards reminded him that she was renting the cute little bungalow on the corner; the one with the blue windmill on the front lawn. He chatted with the neighbor, then wished her a good evening.

Claude Brown opened the door and grunted at the sight of Randy and the two vases of flowers in Randy’s hand. He said nothing as he opened the door wide for Randy to enter.

“Oh I know, his warmth and outgoing personality is a bit overbearing,” Kathy Brown said, glaring at her hostile husband. “Hi; I know we’ve waved ‘hi’ to one another, but hi, I’m Kathy Brown.”

“Randy Wilson,” Randy said, holding out the spring floral arrangement to her. “These are for you.”

“Oh! Well Claude look, flowers,” Kathy said.

Claude gave a grunt of acknowledgement. Kathy rolled her eyes at her husband’s attitude.

“By the way, whatever that is, it smells amazing,” Randy said. “Mr. Brown? You have a beautiful house, sir.”

“Thank you,” Claude said, the first words he’d spoken.

“Welcome. Oh, could you give me a hand here? I’ve got this beer and some wine and…” Randy said.

“Beer huh? Well, all right now,” Claude said, becoming animated. “Oh hey now! Barley Terlings? And Wheat? Yes sir! Yes sir!”

Shannon was in the kitchen, dropping the linguini into the pot of boiling water. She squealed then cooed at the sight of her vase of pink roses.

“Oh, thank you, but you didn’t have to do that,” Shannon protested and plastered her lithe body against Randy.

She was dressed in a sleeveless dress of light beige; it was hard to tell where her dress ended and her legs began. Her braless breasts pushed the front of the dress out and when she turned, her taut buttocks strained against the snug material.

“It’s just about ready; why don’t you go to the dining room?” Shannon suggested.

“I uh, so where, where are y’all originally from?” Randy asked as they sat in the formal dining room. “I mean, what I’m smelling, that’s not some Cajun dish.”

“Me? I’m from Commonstead, New Jersey,” Claude admitted.

“And I’m from Aitchel, Ohio,” Kathy said.

“She’s a ‘Duhurst,'” Shannon offered, bringing in a basket of warm garlic bread.

“A what?” Randy asked.

“Duhurst? Conrad Duhurst?” Shannon suggested.

“Sweetheart, outside of Aitchel? No one knows who Conrad Duhurst is,” Kathy said.

“And no one cares,” Claude said, guzzling more than half of a sixteen ounce Barley Terlings in one gulp.

“Dad,” Shannon admonished, face tight with disapproval.

With the meal, Kathy, Shannon and Randy had the rich red wine. Claude had four Barley Terlings Beer and only ate a small amount of the linguini and sausage in rich marinara sauce.

“I, where did you learn, I mean, this A what in Ohio? There’s a lot of Italian families there?” Randy asked.

“Aitchel,” Kathy said, amused.

“My momma’s from the old country,” Claude admitted.

“My Nonna? She taught me everything she knows,” Shannon said as she speared a chunk of her homemade sausage.

“Tried to teach me,” Kathy admitted. “I come close, but my Shannon; she really took to it like a duck takes to water.”

“You want more?” Shannon asked, standing and grabbing Randy’s plate as he scraped the last of his food into his mouth.

“I uh, if, if it’s not too much trouble,” Randy said.

“You need to come over on Saturday night,” Kathy invited.

“Oh? What’s Saturday night?” Randy asked.

“Homemade pizza,” Shannon said and placed Randy’s plate in front of him.

“Bet I can have you tossing the crust like a pro in no time,” Shannon laughed happily and wetly kissed his cheek.

Randy couldn’t help but think Briah and Farley would love to learn how to make pizza. Especially the tossing and twirling the dough. The warmth in his stomach turned to bile; he no longer had Briah and Farley or Danielle to father, to parent. Stoically, he finished his second heaping plate and declined a third helping.

Over demitasse cups of a thick brew and small bowls of lemon sorbet, Randy told them he was a welder and worked off-shore for fourteen day shifts. On occasion, when he was in, Chris Fontenot did have Randy come into the shop to help finish orders, but for the most part he had seven days off to wash clothes and cut grass and do whatever.

“Well, you’re not dating my little girl,” Claude drunkenly snarled, roughhewn face becoming quite dark and ugly when Randy admitted that he was a former convict and had served time in a prison in Texas.

“And if your Daddy hadn’t been the honorable Judge Brown, who would have been doing twelve to twenty as a guest of the state of New York?” Kathy hissed at her husband. “He did his time, he learned his lesson, he’s a homeowner and a neighbor.”

“So, I suppose I won’t be learning to make pizza,” Randy said, finishing his dessert.

“Oh yes you will,” Kathy said. “If I have to duct tape his butt to a chair, you will be in that kitchen, making pizza.”

“Sir, I do understand,” Randy said gently. “I have, I had Briah and Danielle; I’d want to make damned sure anyone they brought around would be right for my little girls.”

“I’m not a little girl,” Shannon objected, even thrusting her chest out to prove her point.

“To your Daddy? You are,” Randy said, smiling into Shannon’s deep brown eyes.

“But sir, like your wife says, I’ve done my time, I learned my lesson, and I’m doing everything I can to be a good neighbor and a good citizen,” Randy addressed Claude.

“We start making the pizzas at six on the dot,” Kathy said.

“So you better be here,” Shannon said, playfully poking Randy’s muscled bicep with her finger.

“Sir?” Randy asked.

Claude waved his arm dismissively, knowing he had lost this fight. He decided to start in on the Wheat Terlings Beer and twisted the cap off of the sixteen ounce bottle.

“Listen, this has been great, but I’ve had a long day,” Randy said. “That clean-up really took a lot out of me.”

Shannon followed Randy to the front door. Just outside, she stretched up and plastered her body against his. Her kisses were very hot, wet and insistent.

“Saturday,” she repeated when they heard the porch light click on and off a few times. “Six.”

It was still bright sunlight outside. Even looking directly at the bulb, they would have barely noticed whether the bulb was lighted or not. But they could hear the outside fixture clicking on and off.

“Yes ma’am,” Randy smiled and squeezed her tightly, then let go as they could hear the light flicker again.

“Daddy, really,” Randy heard Shannon’s squeal as he walked across the street to his own home.

In his shower, Randy masturbated to the memory of Shannon’s large breasts mashed against his upper abdomen. He masturbated to the memory of how her boobs had looked in her snug tee shirt as they tossed the remnants of carpet into the dumpster. He stroked himself to a knee-buckling climax to the memory of her luscious buttocks in her obscene red denim shorts.

Thursday, Randy caught up on yard work and housework. Friday, he wasted nearly the whole day, waiting on Brian Loudermilk, the claims adjuster from Young Insurance to come out. When Brian Loudermilk did arrive, he struck the dumpster with his car, sliding the large container several feet across Randy’s driveway. Getting out of the car, the scrawny man was stumbling, falling down drunk. As the man weaved and tottered around the house, Randy called the Baylor Lake Police Department. He then called the DeGarde office of Young Insurance and spoke with Elizabeth Coutre, the division manager of Young Insurance. Elizabeth stated she would be right there; under no circumstances was Brian Loudermilk to get back behind the wheel of his car.

“hey, hope you don’t mind, really had take a leak, hear?” Brian slurred horribly as he stepped out of the downstairs bathroom.

He giggled as he took a few pictures of the busted walls. Pointing through the atrium doors, Brian said he could have used the swimming pool, but figured Randy would prefer him use the toilet inside instead.

“Not like your kids ain’t pissed in it a hundred times, huh?” Brian giggled and turned too abruptly.

“Wow, floor’s slippery,” Brian declared and hoisted himself up by leaning against the wall.

“Mr. Loudermilk,” Elizabeth thundered, stepping into the home.

“Aw shit, what you doing here? Look, I’m on the job. All right? I’m on the job,” Brian snapped at his supervisor.

“Mr. Wilson, we meet again,” Officer Rochelle Esposito smiled as Randy opened the door.

The police officer administered a field sobriety test to Brian Loudermilk. Randy walked away; watching the man’s ordeal was actually painful to Randy.

“Oh my God, what, what happened?” a terrified Shannon squealed, barging into the house. “There’s a police car out front!”

“Nothing, Shannon. “Just a drunk shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car, that’s all,” Randy said.

“But you’re okay?” Shannon begged, squeezing Randy tightly, peering up into his eyes.

“Yes, Sweetie, I’m okay,” Randy said as Rochelle now read Brian’s rights to him.

“Oh good,” Shannon cooed, resting her head against Randy’s chest. “I would hate for anything to happen to my man.”

“The carpet down here was the same as what they have upstairs?” Elizabeth asked, coming down the stairs.

“Yes, well, the carpet in that hallway and the main bedroom,” Randy said. “That blue in the other smaller bedrooms? I’m not sure why they put that in there.”

He smirked as Shannon’s grip tightened around him. Shannon glared with hostility at the beautiful brunette, this woman that dared invade her space.

“Forty two inch, right?” Elizabeth hazarded a guess, looking at the brackets and the torn sheetrock where the LCD television had resided.

“Uh, no, fifty four inch, Miller’s had them on sale,” Randy stated.

The ‘beep-beep-beep’ of the tow truck backing up told Randy that Huvall’s Texaco had been quick to respond to Officer Esposito’s request for a tow truck to take Brian Loudermilk’s car away. Elizabeth took a few more photographs, wished Randy and Shannon a good afternoon then left the house through the open garage.

“Friday night’s anything goes night at our house,” Shannon admitted. “No telling what my Daddy’s cooked.”

“Well, I’m going to Chuck for a burger and beer, then next door for a round of golf,” Randy invited.

“I love golf,” Shannon enthused.

Shannon might love golf; she had claimed she loved bowling but she was horrible at both sports. But, just as in bowling, Shannon did enjoy bending over, stretching, posing and preening. By the seventh hole, Randy quit keeping score and just enjoyed watching the nineteen year old girl’s maneuvers.

For pizza making, Shannon wore her red Daisy Duke Denim shorts and a white halter top. Claude welcomed the case of Barley Terlings Beer and both Kathy and Shannon welcomed another floral arrangement apiece.

Randy enjoyed learning to toss the pizza crusts; they made three pizzas. He did think that Briah and Farley would have loved the act of tossing the crusts, using their fists to punch and spin the crusts about. Danielle would have loved spreading the sauce onto the freshly tossed dough and spreading the cheese all around. Of course, the girl would have had more sauce on herself than on the circle of dough. More cheese would have wound up on the counter and floor than on the circle of dough.

“Did I really love Heather? Or was it them kids?” Randy asked himself.

“So, how many he dropped?” Claude drunkenly asked as the first pie was brought out.

“None,” Shannon laughed and kissed Randy’s cheek. “Nonna would have been proud.”

They managed to demolish two and one half of the pizzas. The ice cold beers were a good compliment to the pizzas and Shannon was slightly drunk when Randy stood to leave.

“Hey,” Shannon slurred slightly as they stood on the small porch of her home. “I love you.”

“I care for you, a great deal,” Randy admitted.

“Best way heat them up?” Shannon said, tapping the leftover pizza slices Kathy had wrapped for Randy. “Skillet. On the stove. Just kind of put some olive oil in the pan.”

“Okay,” Randy said, wondering if he had any olive oil.

“I love you,” Shannon repeated, arms around his neck.

She kissed him passionately. Pulling away, her big brown eyes searched his eyes.

“I know, you just got your heart ripped out,” she quietly said, then kissed him again. “But I, I’m going make you say it. I’m going make you say you love me too.”

“We go to nine fifteen Mass at St. Elizabeth by the Lake,” Shannon informed Randy as she opened the door of her home.

“I, I don’t believe in none of that,” Randy said.

“I didn’t ask if you believe. We go to nine fifteen Mass. Dress nice, okay?” Shannon said and closed the door.

After church, the quartet went to Side By Side Steaks for their lavish brunch. Randy ordered a Mimosa with his first omelet, but before he could even take a sip, Shannon snagged the alcoholic beverage and smiled sweetly at him. With a laugh, he let her have the drink and enjoyed the dark, rich coffee with his meal.

Monday was a busy day; Randy packed his clothes for the fourteen day stint off-shore. He had the dumpster collected and he sorted through the bills that needed to be paid, and threw out what food would be sure to spoil before his return. In the midst of all of this, Heather showed up, without the kids, to return the Toyota to Randy.

Looking at Heather, Randy felt he was seeing the woman for the first time as she truly was. Randy was shocked at the sight of her, without a ton of cosmetics covering her skin. He saw Heather Aucoin’s lifeless eyes, the deep set wrinkles, the strands of gray woven through her unwashed hair. And he had an epiphany.

“You, you’re afraid,” Randy stated firmly. “You’re afraid of failing. You’re afraid if you actually follow through with something, you might fail and that would just crush you. So rather than go through all that, you just quit. You just give up or sabotage it all and play the victim. Hey, can’t fail if you never even try, right?”

Heather did not say anything; just hung her head as Randy spoke. She silently dug the car keys and the house keys from her purse. The keys jingled as she dropped them onto the breakfast counter.

For a long moment, neither Randy nor Heather said anything. Heather gave a soft smile and shrug of her round shoulders when Randy asked how the kids were doing.

“Oh, I uh, I found the ring,” Heather said, digging the ring out of her purse. “Yeah, Damien gave it to Robert? His cousin for letting us stay there.”

“How nice of Damien,” Randy snapped, accepting the ring.

“I uh, know how much an Uber from here to Kimble would be?” Heather asked, turning to leave.

“Know what, Heather? I, I got no need of that car,” Randy said, taking his house keys off of the cheap key ring. “You, you just hang onto it, huh?”

Randy had thought to give the car to Shannon; she seemed to cycle everywhere. Shannon had laughed and pointed to a silver Alfa Romeo Giulia Ti and showed him the key for the sports car. Randy then thought to sell the car and put the money toward the repairs of his home; after all, there was the one thousand dollar deductible with his insurance policy. But Heather, and Heather’s children had a real need of the dependable car.

With a soft ‘thank you,’ Heather turned to leave. Heather paused and looked at the hole in the sheetrock, where Damien had struck a stud. She even reached out and ran her finger along the jagged impression.

“I, I’m sorry,” Heather mumbled and ran from Randy’s house.

“Me too,” Randy agreed, standing at the open door. “I, you, you need to get some help, Heather. Please. Before you turn Briah and Farley and Danielle into perpetual victims like their momma; get some help.”

Tuesday morning, Randy pulled his truck out of the garage. He sat and watched to make sure that the garage door went all the way down. He almost screamed when an unexpected tapping sounded at his driver’s window.

“What? Girl, trying give me a heart attack?” Randy asked, seeing Shannon in a flimsy robe standing next to his truck.

Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were heavy as she stood there. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

“Bye. You be careful,” Shannon said sleepily. “Love you.”

She turned and shuffled back across the street. Randy saw Kathy standing in the doorway of their home, dressed in a sheer robe that hinted at the beautiful body just underneath the gauzy material. Upstairs, Randy saw a curtain move. With a shake of his head, Randy waved to the Browns then drove away.

“Ew, morning breath,” Randy said to himself as he drove west.

“Uh huh, that’s why your dick’s super-hard, right?” Randy chuckled as he drove the silent streets to I-10.

“Hey Wilson, thought you was going on a honey moon?” a worker asked as Randy waited for the boat.

“Got cancelled,” Randy said simply.

“Aww, she find herself a real man?” the man taunted. “You know, one with a real…”

“No, even worse. She hooked up with your old lady,” Randy shot back.

“Don’t care who started it; I’m finishing it right here, right now,” a foreman snarled. “One more word out of either one of you? Send your ass on home. Don’t believe me? Try me, hear?”

“Yes sir,” Randy nodded.

“‘Yes sir,’ fucking ass kiss,” the first man sneered at Randy.

“Walker, that’s it. Leave. And, yes sir, I will have a nice little talk with your boy at Tri-Carter, hear?” the foreman said, pointing with his clipboard toward the parking lot.

“What the fuck? See? This, this is what’s wrong with America. We all so God damned worried might piss off the wrong mother fucker,” Bob Walker snapped. “Can’t say shit; might upset some little fucking fruit loop.”

“Yeah. And you pissed off the wrong mother fucker. Me,” the foreman yelled.

A few men that had witnessed the altercation from the beginning did offer their sympathies to Randy. But mostly, he was left alone. Too many of the men knew, working seven and fourteen day sifts, leaving their wives and girlfriends alone for too many days had resulted in far too many cancelled weddings, cancelled vacations, cancelled marriages.

“Yeah, but the money’s just too fucking good,” one man muttered to no one in particular. “Just ask my ex-wife’s lawyer.”

After a grueling fourteen day sift, one in which the whole crew kept an eye on a potential storm formation in the Atlantic, Randy returned to find someone had shot up his pickup truck with buckshot. The windshield and the front and rear tires of the driver’s side took the brunt of the blasts. The office did let Randy know they’d called it in and handed him the police report for his insurance company.

“Bet it was that little ass wipe Walker,” an electrician from Tri-Carter surmised. “Come on, Wilson, I’m heading to Pinoak; you’re right there, right on the way.”

Wearily entering his home, Randy noticed the smell of fresh paint. There was another harsh chemical smell and Randy was sure the brand new deep shag multicolored carpet was the source of the odor. There was a brand new wicker basket sitting on the breakfast counter and Randy saw his unopened mail waiting for him.

The light pink did look good with the deep shag carpet. In the kitchen, the ice yellow did look sharp, especially with the antique brass cabinet and drawer pulls. The formal dining room, which he and Heather and the kids had never used did look good with the deep forest green walls.

“Someone’s been busy,” Randy said out loud.

There was even a cut crystal bowl sitting on a brand new side table nestled between the two recliners. Randy smiled softly; Shannon had put silk roses, pale pink silk roses into the heavy bowl.

“You can’t have stuff like that around kids,” Randy said. “That’ll be the first thing they…”

“We, you don’t have kids,” Randy reminded himself as he lugged his duffel bag to the garage, to the washing machine.

Upstairs, Randy noticed that the somewhat worn carpet had been replaced with dark hardwood floors. Entering his bedroom, the bed was the same. The dresser and armoire and low mirrored dresser and two nightstands were the same. But there was dark brown hardwood flooring instead of chocolate brown carpet. The bed itself sat on a red Oriental style rug and behind the bed, in a dark brown frame was a peaceful forest scene with a mother deer watching two fawns wrestling on a bed of deep green grass.

Randy slept on the right side of the bed; he had always slept on the right side of the bed. But his pillows and alarm clock had been moved to the left side of the bed. There were two more pillows and Randy realized the bed linens were a set he’d not seen before. He would have never purchased striped bed linens of green and pink and white. The comforter was also new; a cream colored comforter with two locking rings of red in the center.

His bathroom had also been updated. The slightly bent shower rod had been replaced. The slightly gaudy, playful clear plastic shower curtain had been replaced with a plain white rubber sheet, framed by a natural fiver shower curtain and matching floor mat on the new hardwood floor that replaced the peeling linoleum floor. Three matching towels hung on the decorative rod just before the open closet door.

“Yes ma’am, someone’s been busy,” Randy said again.

“You like it?” Shannon asked breathlessly from the open doorway of his bathroom.

“I, I don’t know,” Randy admitted, drinking in the sight of her in man’s button up dress shirt, long sleeves rolled up, shirt knotted between her large breasts and Daisy Duke shorts.

He liked her long blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Even with her overly-developed body, the simple hairstyle gave a slightly childlike look to the nineteen year old girl.

“I, I hope you, I put a lot of thought, I mean, I, I just want you to have a home you can be proud of,” Shannon whispered, her eyes frantically searching Randy’s for his approval.

“So, show me my new home,” Randy suggested and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

Farley’s room, it had hurt Randy’s heart every time he looked in and saw the empty bedroom. Now, there was a desk and office chair and a laptop computer. There were two wingback chairs that shared an ottoman and an end table and table lamp. There were four bookcases, two on either side of the window.

“It’s my, it’s a study, you know, for doing homework,” Shannon said.

“Mm hmm,” Randy agreed. “See that.”

Other than when he’d taken Officer Rochelle Esposito around, Randy had not been in the girl’s bedroom. Again, it just hurt his heart too much to think of the empty space. Now, it was a fairy princess’s dream bedroom. Everything was soft and fluffy and pretty.

“I, I don’t know why, I, I just, this room just said ‘Girly-girl room’ to me,” Shannon said softly.

The guest bathroom had been cleaned up, but for the most part, it still looked the same.

Downstairs, Shannon sowed Randy the guest bedroom had also been kept the same, other than a fresh coat of antique white paint on the walls. The guest bathroom had likewise been cleaned up, but unchanged.

“You like it?” Shannon begged.

“I, yes, it, it’s well, what’s not to like about it?” Randy agreed. “I, but how, Shannon, I my insurance isn’t going cover all this.”

“Don’t worry ’bout that,” Shannon said, squeezing him tightly. “But you like it? You really, you’re not just saying that. You really do like it?”

“Shannon, it, it’s gorgeous. Ought to be in a magazine,” Randy said and kissed her.

“But do you like it?” she demanded when he pulled away from her.

“Yes, yes Shannon, I like it,” Randy agreed.

“And, we’re having stuffed pork chops tonight,” Shannon said. “Six thirty, okay?”

“Six thirty,” Randy agreed. “Oh, hey, uh, who’s idea was it to move my side of the bed over?”

“I’m a girl. I need to be right there by the bathroom,” Shannon smiled as she sauntered to the front door.

“Oh, hey, wait a minute. How, how’d you get into my house anyway?” Randy suddenly remembered.

“Uh? Heather dropped off her keys?” Shannon said, holding up Heather’s old keys.

Randy looked at the counter, where the wicker basket now sat. He remembered Heather coming over, dropping off the house keys. Randy remembered taking the house keys off the ring and placing the keys on the counter, where the basket now sat. But he did not remember Shannon coming into his home after Heather had left the house.

“Six thirty,” Randy repeated, deciding it would be pointless to worry about the keys, worry about how Shannon had managed to get the keys.

After supper, after Randy yawned for the third time, even while eating a strawberry sorbet and drinking rich expresso, Kathy gently suggested that Randy go home, go to bed. Shannon walked Randy outside, but paused in the small porch of the Browns’ home.

“You, I mean, your pillows are…” Randy said.

“We’re not married,” Shannon said firmly. “We’re not sharing a bed until we’re married.”

“I, okay, but, your pillows,” Randy stammered.

“I got a couple of those My Pillow pillows,” Shannon shrugged. “I can leave them there. Oh! And that old mattress? Oh my God, it still smelled where that Damon guy…”

“Damien,” Randy corrected.

“Damon, Damien, who cares?” Shannon said. “But it smelled so bad. I got us one of them purple mattresses; oh I, I hope you like it. I love it, but you don’t like it, we can return it; it comes with a guarantee.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Randy smiled. “I know it’ll be better than that couch.”

“Good night. I love you,” Shannon said, then turned when the porch light could be heard. “Daddy! I’m telling him good night now, all right?”

“Good night,” Randy laughed and walked across the street.

Randy did enjoy the mattress. He found it disconcerting, though, to be on the wrong side of the bed. With a shrug, he moved Shannon’s pillows aside and wiggled over to the right side of the bed and fell asleep.

The smell of coffee and bacon and the sounds of pots and pans clanging roused him. Looking at the window, Randy frowned; he could see no light. Wiggling around, he glanced at his clock radio and saw that it was eight seventeen in the morning.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Shannon cheerfully greeted her man. “Waffles.”

“Morning, noisy girl,” Randy said.

“Those black-out curtains really work, don’t they?” Shannon cheerfully said as she ladled the first scoop of batter onto the grill. “My mom showed me this trick. This way? You get the perfect amount and you don’t have dripping all over the place.”

When she closed the lid on the four perfectly measured waffles, Randy grabbed Shannon from behind and lifted her off of her feet. He kissed her on her neck and cheek, despite her laughing, squealing struggles.

“You want kids?” Randy suddenly blurted out.

“Three or four; mm, four,” Shannon agreed, twisting in his arms to hug and kiss him. “You ready to say it?”

“I, I…” Randy faltered.

“I’m going make you say it,” Shannon promised and nudged him toward the coffee pot with her hip.

He received the lion’s share of the bacon, but they had two waffles apiece. After she cleaned up the kitchen, Shannon announced they were going swimming and pulled her long tee shirt up and off, revealing her peppermint striped bikini underneath. She walked outside and dove into the pool. Randy finished his cup of coffee, then went up the stairs and wiggled into his own swim trunks.

“Need to get you a pair of those, what’s it called? Speedos?” Shannon observed as Randy dove into the pool.

“Need to come out here tonight and go skinny dipping,” Randy suggested.

“Mm hmm,” Shannon said in a voice that said she would not be coming over for skinny dipping.

Tuesday came before Randy was ready for Tuesday. This time, he was expecting the tapping on his truck window. Her blonde hair was a mess and her eyes were barely open as she leaned into his truck window.

“Love you. Be careful. They said there’s another one of those depressions off the coast of Africa,” Shannon mumbled.

“Yeah, I been watching that,” Randy agreed.

“Be careful,” Shannon repeated, kissed him again and meandered across the street.

Kathy smiled and waved. Again, Randy saw a curtain flutter in an upstairs window as he drove away.

Fourteen days later, Randy’s truck was unmolested when they returned to dry land. The hurricane had decided to hit the east side of Florida and travel along the coast line of South and North Carolina. But there was a hurricane threatening to enter the Gulf and another one beginning to form in the Atlantic.

“Your mom and Uncle Jack, why you don’t call him your step-father? They are married, right? They’re coming for Pizza Saturday,” Shannon announced when Randy had started the first load of dirty clothes. “Hi Sweetheart; that hurricane, they said they’re getting everyone off the rigs right now.”

“Yeah, there were four more boats pulling up when I got off,” Randy agreed. “And when’d you talk to my mom?”

“Yesterday. She sounds like a really sweet woman. Oh, and she’s bringing me some zinnias; we need to replace the ones Heather managed to kill off. And your Uncle Jack; he’s a bit of a pervert, you hear?” Shannon said. “Think you can teach him how to make pizza?”

“He’s not a bit of a pervert,” Randy laughed and playfully swatted Shannon on her juicy rear end.

“Yeah he is,” Shannon protested, kissing him.

“No. He’s a lot of a pervert,” Randy smiled. “So, what you been doing? Other than talking to my mom about my flowers?”

“Got a report due for World Economics. You know, I’m thinking I’ll do it on the oil field. Those weirdos with their Green New Deal? They get even half of that stupid crap done? They would crater our economy and make China the leading world economy,” Shannon said.

“I maybe understood every other word of that,” Randy admitted.

Shannon was on hand to greet Janice and Uncle Jack Belew when they entered the home. Both heartily approved of the changes she’d made to the house, including the new sheets on the downstairs bedroom.

“Those are those My Pillows you see on TV all the time,” Shannon told Uncle Jack. “We’ll totally understand if you steal them when you leave. We’ll just get you some new ones.”

“But when are we going to see this pizza throwing?” Janice asked. “I bet you a hundred bucks Jack drops it first time he even tries.”

“I bet he’ll do just fine,” Shannon smiled up at Jack. “Randy’ll teach him and Randy’s a pro at it. But Miss Janice, you bring them zinnias? I swear, I don’t know what happened to the last ones, but just look at them.”

“Don’t know if you noticed, son,” Jack said to Randy as they punched out their balls of dough. “But that girl? Says ‘we’ and ‘us’ when she’s talking. That Heather? Only time she ever said ‘we’ and ‘us’ was when she was talking about her and her kids.”

Randy thought about this bit of information for a long minute. Then he nodded his head and showed his step-father how to pick up the flattened ball of dough.

“See? See? Told you,” Shannon laughed happily as the two men did spin the dough.

Because of their guests, Claude refrained from his beer. He stuck to drinking the earthy, rich red wine Jack and Janice had brought with them. Also, because Jack and Janice were closer to his age, Claude was more communicative about himself, about his family history. Randy was shocked to find out that Shannon was the baby, and the only girl out of the three children Claude and Kathy had borne. Randy had not known Shannon had any siblings.

“Yeah, Cecil, he’s, how long’s he been in the Navy?” Claude asked his wife. “And then there’s Cliff, Clifton. He’s up in Seattle; some big shot with a cell phone company out there.”

“Takes after his daddy,” Kathy disclosed. “Claude’s computer security with ULD.”

“Why I’m going there for free,” Shannon confided.

“And we go to nine fifteen Mass,” Kathy informed the three guests as they left the Brown house.

“You, they got you going to church?” Janice asked her son.

“Oh yes ma’am, Miss Janice,” Shannon said.

In the morning, Jack asked if that was a new mattress on the bed downstairs. Randy had to admit, he did not know.

“Yes sir, we knew it needed to be upgraded,” Shannon said, giving Randy some of the credit. “Is it comfortable? Did you sleep good?”

“Slept great, even after that coffee; good God, what was in that? Jet fuel?” Jack agreed.

“Well, it’s a long, long drive to Sweet Oak,” Jack said after they’d gorged themselves at the Side By Side Steakhouse Sunday Brunch.

“So when’s the wedding?” Janice whispered to Randy as they hugged in the parking lot.

“Mother, come on, huh?” Randy smiled.

“See you later, son,” Jack said, moving to shake Randy’s hand.

“See you, Uncle Jack,” Randy said, giving his step-father a hug. “Love you. Y’all be careful getting home.”

“Love you too, son,” Uncle Jack admitted, squeezing his step-son tightly.

“Come on, come on, let’s go,” Claude barked.

“Yes, there’s a nap calling him, getting pretty loud,” Kathy teased her husband.

“And need take these teeth out; I’m telling you, they don’t fit right,” Claude said.

“You afraid of heights?” Randy asked Shannon as they held hands in the rear of the Cadillac Escalade.

“No, well, not really,” Shannon said. “I mean, I, I went rock climbing once. I didn’t really like that but not because I was going fall off. Oh! I went zip-lining in Tennessee and that was about eighty feet up; that was so awesome. Why?”

“Just wondering. I mean, didn’t even know you had brothers until last night. What else I don’t know about you?” Randy shrugged.

Tuesday morning, Shannon was once again waiting to kiss him goodbye, waiting to tell him to be careful, waiting to tell him she loved him. Randy smiled and waved to Kathy and to Claude, or the bedroom window where Claude glanced out. A tropical depression nearly forced the evacuation, but the storm died before it could fully develop. But it did manage to dump a massive amount of rain onto the rig.

“Friday night’s still Claude’s night to cook?” Randy asked Shannon when she came into his house Tuesday night.

“Mm hmm. Oh, that paper I did on the Green New Deal’s effect on our economy? Got a ninety one on it,” Shannon said. Professor Gendusa said it would never happen here, but a smaller, weaker country could fall prey to that.”

“Again, I may be understood every other word of that,” Randy smiled. “Friday? Why don’t we go out to that Thai restaurant out in Kimble?”

“The hanging gardens? Oh! I been dying go to that,” Shannon enthused.

Thursday, Randy met with Claude at Claude’s office in MacPherson Hall on the campus of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. Claude shrugged his shoulders; he still did not like the idea of his daughter dating a thug, a felon. But, truthfully, other than Randy’s status of being an ex-con, Claude did like the young neighbor.

“Hell, Kathy likes you,” Claude admitted.

“Uh huh, I like her too,” Randy smiled.

“And, I do see,” Claude said. “You two might not think I do, but I do see. Your hands stay where they’re supposed to be.”

Randy again shrugged but nodded his head. The few times he had tried to initiate more than just very passionate kissing, Shannon had gently guided his intentions away from carnal activity.

“I know what you want,” Shannon would murmur into Randy’s ear. “And believe me, I want it too. But now isn’t the right time for that.”

Arriving home Tuesday afternoon, Randy had found a pair of plain white cotton panties in his laundry hamper. Giving the gusset of the panties a deep sniff, Randy hoped ‘the right time’ would be soon.

“I can’t do a thing about my past, sir,” Randy said, shaking Claude’s hand. “I can only move forward and not repeat the same stupid mistakes I made when I was a dumb seventeen year old punk.”

The Thai cuisine was excellent. The portions were a tad small, especially for the prices they charged, but the food itself was savory, spicy. Randy suggested they go to the new Spoons Ice Cream parlor that had recently opened up in DeGarde if they were still hungry after their balloon ride.

“Balloon…we, we’re going up in one of them balloons?” Shannon squealed excitedly.

The balloon ride took roughly forty minutes. Randy had been on a few helicopters; once they’d had to evacuate a rig quickly. This was a new experience for him, though. The quiet, serene floating above the trees and buildings and homes, the leisurely pace of the ride genuinely took his breath away.

And having a beautiful nineteen year old blonde gasping and cooing and squeezing him made the moment all the sweeter for Randy. The man at the controls let Randy and Shannon know he was turning the jets down; it was time to bring the big balloon back to earth.

“I, I’m ready to say it,” Randy whispered into Shannon’s ear as he hugged her from behind.

“Mm hmm?” Shannon smiled over her shoulder at him.

“In fact, I’m ready to say it every day for the rest of our lives,” Randy said and fished the ring out of his pocket.

“And I’m ready to hear it every day for the rest of our lives,” Shannon agreed, tears streaming down her face.

**.**.**

Cheerful Christmas music played over the speakers as Randy pushed the buggy up to the display of Fuji apples. He absently hummed along with the song playing as he pored over the apples.

“See you still like Fuji apples,” Heather Aucoin smiled sadly.

“I uh, hey! I, how you doing?” Randy stammered, seeing a weathered looking Heather standing in front of the Red Delicious apple display.

“I, you know,” Heather shrugged.

“I, uh, so, uh, how’s Briah and Farley and Danielle doing?” Randy asked, bagging the selected apples

“They, they’re good. David, Briah’s daddy? He and Honey got them right now,” Heather admitted.

Heather had no intention of letting David McMahon know he had a daughter. As far as she was concerned, there was no need to confuse an already convoluted situation. Until she walked into the living room and caught Robert, Damien’s cousin trying to teach Briah how to kiss. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she took the steps to protect her baby girl from this predator.

In the lawyer’s office, Honey McMahon, David’s wife asked about Briah’s siblings. Heather wanted to dislike the short, freckled red head, but Honey’s warm personality made it almost impossible to dislike her.

“There’s Farley; he’s ten months younger than Briah, then there’s Danielle; she’s the baby of the family; she’s six,” Heather said, pulling their school pictures out of her purse.

“And they’ll be coming with Briah when she visits us?” Honey asked. “Wait, six? So she’s the same age as our Janelle?”

“I uh, well, Briah’s the only one David’s the daddy,” Heather said.

“But, that, well, that really doesn’t seem fair,” Honey said. “Briah gets to come see us and they don’t?”

“And Briah’s the only one gets a new grandma and they don’t?” David agreed.

Amelia Waters, David’s attorney asked Heather if she’d bee agreeable to them rewriting the visitation agreement to include Farley and Danielle. Heather watched Honey and David passing the three school pictures back and forth and whispering about how excited Janelle and D.J. would be. Wiping at her eyes, Heather tried to answer Amelia’s question, but finally mutely nodded her head in agreement.

“So, you did tell Briah about her daddy?” Randy asked, snapping Heather out of her reverie.

“And Farley and Danielle,” Heather agreed.

“Really? I turn my back for two seconds and you’re talking to some pretty woman?” Shannon demanded, slapping Randy on his buttocks.

“I thought I locked you in the trunk,” Randy quipped, putting his arm around his wife.

Janice was thrilled when Randy called with the news that he was engaged. Uncle Jack let a few tears slide down his face when his step-son asked him to be his best man.

“And, uh, I really got keep calling you ‘Uncle Jack?'” Randy asked. “I mean, shit, what’s wrong with ‘Dad,’ huh?”

“Ain’t a damned thing wrong with it, son,” Jack agreed.

The first Saturday in September was warm, but not hot. The park behind the St. Elizabeth Parish Public Library was alive with the flowers of late summer as Randy and Jack stood under the gazebo. Deacon Derek Bergeron stood in the lightweight gray suit his step-father had purchased for him when he’d become a deacon of St. Elizabeth Catholic Church. The blood red tie he wore had belonged to his step-father.

Shannon had been a vision of loveliness as she approached, holding her father’s arm. The wedding gown had belonged to Kathy Brown; looking at his mother in law, Randy knew he was one lucky man.

Seeing Shannon Brown in her wedding gown had been a treat. Seeing Shannon Wilson out of her wedding gown had actually caused Randy to blow a load into his boxers. She stood in their New Orleans’ hotel room, dressed in pale blue half-cup bra and matching thong panties with white garter belt and white stockings. With a soft smile, Shannon had turned slowly, giving her husband a good look at her semi-nude body.

“I love you,” Randy exclaimed as he struggled out of his clothing.

“I know,” Shannon whispered happily as she crawled onto the bed. “And I love you too. Now, husband, come here.”

Her breasts were large and each was capped with a light brown areole. Shannon’s areolae were crinkled tightly in excitement, her fat nipples stuck out over the shelf created by her half-cup bra. Randy’s mouth and fingers teasing and tugging at Shannon’s nipples soon had her grunting and groaning in need.

Peeling down her skimpy panties, Randy found out that all of Shannon was blonde. The patch of blonde curls could not cover her swollen inner lips and Randy eagerly lapped at her essences until she clamped her legs around his head and screamed in orgasm.

“Condom,” Randy huffed when his bride released her grip on his head.

“Oh no sir,” Shannon said firmly. “We’re having four kids and that starts tonight.”

“I uh, I, so y’all got married?” Heather’s question pulled Randy out of staring deeply into Shannon’s eyes.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, yes we did,” Shannon smiled, tearing her eyes from her husband’s gaze. “September fourth.”

Heather almost laughed when Shannon’s beautiful face showed the moment Shannon recognized Heather Aucoin. Heather put her selection of Red Delicious apples into her buggy and prepared to move on.

“Well, congratulations,” Heather said sadly.

“She was telling me about Briah and Farley and Danielle,” Randy said to Shannon.

“Oh! Oh my God, how, how are they?” Shannon begged to know.

“I, they, they’re great,” Heather smiled wistfully. “Like I told Randy, they’re with David and Honey right now.”

“David’s Briah’s father,” Randy explained to Shannon.

“David? The one that got out of prison? The one that trashed your house?” Shannon asked Randy, face registering her disapproval.

“No, that was Damien,” Heather said. “David, David’s a good guy.”

David McMahon was indeed a good guy. He did not mock Farley for his manner of dressing, did not mock Farley or Briah or Danielle for wearing cosmetics. Instead, David showed Farley there were some advantages to not wearing women’s clothing or cosmetics. There were some advantages to being a little more masculine.

“And, you, you are a big brother,” David said as he and Farley and David Junior, D.J. fished the Atchafalaya Basin. “And some guys are going notice you got three cute sisters in Briah and Danielle and Janelle. You might have kick some ass, you know?”

“Oh,” Farley said, pondering that information.

“And you got a little brother,” David continued, slowly reeling in his line. “Who’s going show him how to throw a football? Or ride a bike?”

“I know how a bike ride,” D.J. stated.

“Without training wheels?” David asked, pulling his hook out of the water and seeing something had taken the worm off his hook but had not been hooked.

But when Robert asked when Briah and Danielle would be coming back, Heather decided that Briah and Danielle, and Farley would not be coming back to the trailer. A quick phone call to Honey confirmed that Briah and Danielle and Farley would be kept safe from Robert Hebert. The women’s shelter on Banks Street was now working with Heather. They had helped her get an apartment and were working with her to help her find gainful employment.

“I, good,” Randy said firmly.

“Miss Hea, Heather, if there’s anything we can do, please, please let us know,” Shannon begged.

“Nothing you can do; it’s got to come from me,” Heather smiled widely. “But thank you all the same.”

THE END

**Author’s Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my stories, as well as those that ‘Favorite’ my work.

Heather Aucoin, Briah Aucoin and Farley Aucoin are all characters introduced in ‘Multiple Units #311’ in the Loving Wives category. At the conclusion of that story, Heather was pregnant with Danielle Aucoin.

Chris Fontenot and Fontenot Equipment & Services were first introduced in ‘X-Rated: Daddy’s Old VCR Tapes’ in the Lesbian Sex category.

Kathy Brown’s hometown of Aitchel, Ohio, as well as her father, Conrad Duhurst were introduced in ‘Happy A&M Day’ in the Transsexuals & Crossdressers category.

Damien Hebert and his deceased father, Donnie Hebert were likewise introduced in ‘Multiple Units #311.’

Officer Rochelle Esposito was introduced in the ‘Yapping Dogs’ series in the Loving Wives category. Her current occupation as a Baylor Lake police officer was introduced in ‘Written Down’ in the Group Sex category.

Penny Richards, the grocery store cashier is a character introduced in ‘Strands Of Gray’ in the Loving Wives category.

Brian Loudermilk, the drunken Young Insurance claims adjuster is a character first introduced in ‘The Good Neighbor’ in the BDSM category.

Elizabeth Coutre, the division manager of Young Insurance is a character first introduced in the ‘The Broussard Sisters’ series in the Group Sex category.

Derek Bergeron, the Deacon that officiates the wedding ceremony is a character first introduced in the ‘The Garbage…’ series in the Novels/Novellas category.

Briah’s father, David McMahon and his wife Honey are introduced in ‘Multiple Units #311.’

Amelia Waters, David McMahon’s attorney is likewise introduced in the ‘The Garbage…’ series.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.